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Bedoor Bluemoon

Everyday writing to expose the soul

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Afternoon Tea- Repost

Tea

Repost- Afternoon Tea

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The first memory she had of her grandmother’s house was the scent of freshly baked blueberry muffins.  She loved how the aroma filled the entrance and loved the traces of flour on the surface of the working area.  She would draw little hearts and her grandmother would tease and ask if the hearts were meant for her or the muffins, and she would answer the muffins.  She loved her grandmother who introduced her to this wonderful world of baking.

She remembered the sweet lemon pies they would make in the summer to accompany the swimming trips and the warm apple cinnamon crumble that would accompany the winter winds.  She was her grandmother’s little helper.  The person who would hold the rolling pin and the person who would garnish the cake tops with chocolate shavings.  She was the person who would cut the two day old bread to cover with the custard, raisins, and nuts and turn it into warm home-made pudding.  She would always choose the floral tablecloth and tea set for their days together and would help serve afternoon tea to her family and enjoy every second of their tea time together.

All her free time was spent in the kitchen with her grandmother.  she learned everything in regards to the temperatures, recipes, and baking tips. She asked her father for a set of baking pans for her tenth birthday and was ecstatic when she unwrapped the pink wrapping paper and saw them in the box.  Her first baking pans.

She always wanted to settle down and start a family of her own.  She met Owen once she started college in orientation and  things just clicked between them.  Her short dark hair and warm hazel eyes penetrated his heart and he knew that she was the woman of his dreams.

They had some joined classes and Owen was so happy to help Catherine with her work.  They spent so much time preparing for projects and presentations.  After two years of college, Catherine told Owen that she will not be continuing her education and a Diploma was enough.  Her grandmother have passed away and she had to go back and spend her summer in the old kitchen.  He understood her passion and wished her well but didn’t want to lose her so he promised to take some time to visit her for a week during the spring break.

She walked into the old kitchen and ran her fingers across the top of the working area. Dust in place of flour.  She opened the cupboards that once held the dried cranberries and vegetable oil and they were empty.  She sighed.  She opened the fridge that was once packed with eggs and cream to have an empty space stare back.  She took the rolling pin in her hand and started to think of a way to bring life back into her grandmother’s  house.

She smiled and started to work on cleaning up the house.  She started with the kitchen, then the rooms, and finally the living area.  She made sure the place was warm and welcoming as it always was when her grandmother was around.  She left the house and came back with bags of groceries.

She started by making a basic vanilla cake. She sliced the vanilla bean and used half in the custard she was cooking on the stove.  Her heart skipped a beat when she thought the eggs curdled but was satisfied to see that it all went well.  Her grandmother taught her well.

she was expecting her father, mother, and sisters to arrive soon and Owen also confirmed he would be coming over for tea.  He had a different plan in mind and coordinated with Catherine’s mom to propose.  She was ecstatic to hear and gave her blessings.

Catherine chose the floral table spread and got her grandmother’s floral cups and saucers.   She started boiling the water for the tea and was piping creme patisserie in her eclairs when the doorbell rang.

It was nobody.  She felt a bit of wind across her face so she had to make sure the draft was managed by closing the windows.  Catherine arranged the eclairs, vanilla cake, mini sandwiches, scones, and oatmeal cookies on the table and took a seat next to her grandmother’s chair.  She placed a plate with one piece of each baked good and a cup of warm tea as tribute to her grandmother.  She was content with the outcome of four hours of baking and felt her grandmother would be proud.

The guests walked in and were impressed.  Her sister beamed and Owen didn’t believe she didn’t buy the cakes.  She smiled and sat down, making sure every one had a taste of her cakes.

Owen proposed.  He went down on one knee and told her how she filled his life with happiness and what an honor it would be if she accepts to be his wife.  He slipped the ring on her finger.  Her family congratulated them and soon the get together was over.

Catherine was alone in the house, cleaning up and putting things back.  It was the perfect day in her grandma’s little home.  She was wiping the working area and unconsciously started drawing little hearts.  She was exactly where she wanted to be.

“These are for you, grandma,”

The Man Who Buried 

Bury

He was known to bury his feelings. A great actor with a greater teacher. A teacher who taught him that when you were born and cried, your mother wasn’t there to hold and comfort you, for she abandoned you. A teacher who taught him that being bounced from foster home to another only meant friends changing and never settling in. A teacher who taught him that he is not wanted, a dog when families required puppies. 
 So it went on… a child living everyday wishing it was his last and not feeling anything because, come to think of it, why would he want to feel anything?
So he buried a piece of himself.
When He turned 18, he was given the opportunity to leave the home and find his way in the world so his teacher encouraged him to do so, just to slam every door in his face. It was difficult to find a job, any job, so he looked some more. Persisted and chose to bury all feelings of disappointment when he was turned down at interviews. Until he found a job that required him to work night shifts moving truckloads of trash away from civilization.
So he drove all the way out every night, and buried a piece of him. 
His life got better: the orphan boy who could. Many people invited him to their homes, it was a way his teacher showed him what he never had growing up but he still looked with curiosity. He buried all feelings of longing and envy.
His teacher taught him that there is a person out there for you when he met his girlfriend, then he found out that things can only get better… just to get worse. So all he did was bury a relationship before it ever became anything.
He buried his hopes and dreams of a family when he buried his heart. 
The more he learned, the more he grew.

 The more he grew, the more he buried.

Illusion

Illusion

He made sure that what he portrayed was just an illusion. He made sure that when he chose his next victim he would have things set out in order. The car, the shoes, the clothes. 
His name was Jack Carter, a professional illusionist who, in some ways, beats the best illusionists of this time. The only difference is he doesn’t make a big show to flaunt his skills, he makes sure to hide them.
What he does is plain and simple. He moves to a new town after researching his victims and starts stalking her. He watches her every move, studies her actions, likes and dislikes, her social circle, and other important points that help his attack.
He plays with his food before devouring it, makes sure that the temperature is just right, that the woman he chooses is ready to sell her soul to him. Of course, this courtship offer takes a few months but he’s been getting better at his illusion.
Either that or women are losing their sight.
He entered the town Chistal and drove to the East side in his black minivan: a car he once researched was the most used car around the eastern coast. He parked next to the conventional white piquet fence and watched as a woman in her early fifties walks out of the house for her daily walk. 

7:05 a.m, right on time dear Mrs. Robbins, he thought.



Jane Robbins was very attractive for her age. A tall, polished businesswoman who recently got divorced after a 25 year marriage. He stepped out of the car, making sure that his shoelaces are tied and started walking behind her, giving her just enough space to not realize that the illusion was about to start.
She power walked for the next few blocks and he started to gain speed. Only when she decided to take a bit of a break did Jack start his jog; he needed to break a bit of a sweat to compliment his act. 
He walked up to Jane out of breath. He knew that he looked very attractive with his black shorts and blue t-shirt, he also wore his fake Cartier watch especially for this encounter.
He treaded softly, approaching the bench with a big smile on his face. “Hello beautiful, nice day isn’t it? Do you mind if I sit down?”
Jane never knew what happened, never had a chance.
By the end of the year, she woke up one morning looking for her fiancé and found him gone, along with every penny she had. 

The Bridge

Writing prompt 240


He sat on the rail of the bridge watching the people cross, waiting for his next victim.

He didn’t know that he was being watched, followed from the second he stepped out of his house. He didn’t realize that there is someone who wanted to prove his methods were not up to par, not meticulous enough. He didn’t know that during his last attack, the single slip up was the reason he was now hunted.

Once a hunter, now hunted.

Hunted because he let the girl scratch his face and the police found the evidence of his DNA underneath her fingernails.

And now, he was no longer part of  the group. No longer welcomed.

Watching, he was being watched. Planning, his death was being planned, schemed.
The next day, newspapers read “the Bridge Serial Killer was Found Dead Beneath the Bridge.”
How ironic.

School Life is Imaginary

Imaginary

We all know that dreams occur when we’re fast asleep.  So when we are expected to wake up at 5:00 a.m. to get ready for school, some of our dreams are still lingering in our heads.  We manage to pull the energy to get dressed and, in good days, style our hair in a bun other than a high ponytail and we’re off to go.
Life, as we know it, exists within the school premises.  Life, all of life, is what we see, what we learn, who we hang out with, and on weekends, who we go out with.  We spend at least eight hours a day with our fellow classmates (and thus our BFFs forever!) and never reconsider another way of life.
Why is that?
Because it is very rare that social circles are beyond our school life.  We get to meet children from other schools when we play against them in our Junior Varsity and Varsity teams but it usually never advances to friendships.  We are mostly lazy, sticking with our childhood friends because we forgot how to make new friends and thus end up with that girl who just so happened to be sitting next to us in grade one.
How convenient.
Or if our parents are social butterflies, we befriend their children who, surprise surprise, probably go to our school as well because it’s “the best school there is.”
Then we get into groups.  People who like sports hang around with each other, people who play music, people who are technologically advanced, people who are technologically illiterate, cool kids, bad kids, popular kids, it’s all the same across schools and countries.  So you hate certain people, and like certain people.  And that’s the way it goes until the big day.
Graduation day.
You’ve been preparing all your life for this moment (this is probably the most used sentence in graduation speeches, alongside “we’ve done it”), and you’ve looked forward towards wearing that graduation gown and walking down the aisle.  You’ve discussed it a million times with your friends and were so anxious that you didn’t realize the car crash afterwards.  (sadly, a group of girls who graduated with me had a car crash but fortunately we didn’t lose anyone.)
The car crash called life.
Your close friends met your parents and so it’s no surprise when they meet them again in the ceremony.  It’s the other kids who turn all weird.  All of a sudden, that mean boy has parents.  Huh.  He has parents who kinda look like him and who, surprisingly, are very proud of his achievements even though they’re not so impressive.  BAM… Life…
A close friend decides to ignore you and concentrate on her family.  BAM… Life…
A girl who totally ignored you for the past five years comes up and takes a picture with you.  BAM… Life…
A guy who had a crush on you decides to introduce you to his mother who looks at you knowingly. BAM… Life…
People who didn’t really deserve the high achievement reward gets it and you wonder if there’s any foul play related.  BAM… Life…
And you walk in a haze… everything you once knew is completely gone.  Everything you thought was life is imaginary… everyone who walked on the school grounds suddenly is connected to people… It’s like a mind map of who knows who and who knows what and what money is being transferred to pull strings…
Then you realize, your college application could have gone through if only you had the money to “donate” and get into the amazing college of your dreams.  BAM… Life…
Life as you know it does not end within the school premises, life is what your parents have been trying to shelter you from because it’s a cruel cruel world for kids like you…
So be prepared to swim with the sharks, little fish.

No Verbal Confirmation, Please

Verbal Confirmation

 

With children, you sometimes question your sanity.  If you were an outsider looking in, you will see the many repeated questions and the many ignored requests.  Let’s assume you want to ask your child what he would like to have for dinner.  You start by asking like a normal human being.

“What would you like for dinner?”

No answer.

You decide that maybe he didn’t hear you, so you raise your voice a notch.

“Hey, what would you like for dinner?”

Still nothing.

This may go on a few times before you realize that your child isn’t even looking in your direction, so you remember that you should probably try to grab his attention by gently putting your hand on him.  Finally, eye contact.  So you ask again, repeating the question using a normal volume then raising your voice a little bit.  He squirms away, you walk behind him strong, thinking that you’re the mom, you are putting the rules.  He’s not the boss of me, you say to yourself.  He runs, you walk a bit faster.  A few more minutes of this and it turns to a full on game of chase.

Who’s the boss now?

You throw your hands up shouting that this is not a game so your kid says fine but nothing else.  You ask again and get nothing.

You wonder next whether you need to be facing your child when asking so you try that.  It takes some effort but you finally have eye contact.  You look into his eyes and suddenly all his childhood years fly by but no!  You will not succumb to his cuteness.

So you ask, slowly and making sure to articulate each letter: “What would you want to have for dinner.”

It’s happening.  You have eye contact, you see that your kid is listening to you, and then the dreaded answer comes: “anything”.

Scoff, because making “anything” means he will eat “anything,” isn’t it?

With children, looking at the many times I ran around like a headless chicken I salute myself.  I salute myself for closing the door on my finger and for knocking my head into the cupboard for no reason, all in the same morning.  I salute you, mothers, for being able to decipher your child so that no verbal confirmation is needed, you only need to be there to read the clues.

So you end up making some pasta, knowing that he’d eat it… and he does.

Verbal confirmation is not for mothers, they are telepathic,

 

هائمة في حبك

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قد لا توحي لك، يا سيدي ، كتاباتي بشيء ولكنها تحتوي على ما يتدفق في قلبي من ألم، وأمل، وشوق.  فمذ رأيتك آخر مرة تقرأ فيها الجريدة وأنا انتظر على أحر من جمر.  فأين أنت؟  لا زلت امر بجانب المقهى وأقف طويلا في انتظارك ولكنك لا تأتي.  أقف والشمس الحارقة تحرق وجهي ولكني لا أبالي، فكل شيئ يهون من أجل الحب

رأيتك مرة وأنت تلاعب طفلك فلم يؤلمني الأمر، بل وتخيلتك معي، لاحقا، وطفلنا يلعب معك.  أخذتني أحلامي إلى أبعد ما يكون، إلى ما وراء ما يراه الناس عيب، فكيف أفكر بك وأنت متزوج؟  كيف تختلجني الآمال وأنا اتمنى، في داخلي، أن تفكر بي

كيف تفكر بي؟  وكيف أتمنى ذلك؟  تجتاحني التساؤلات وارتطم بين الصح والخطأ.  بين أن اتمنى أن تكون لي وبين أن تستقر مع عائلتك.  بين أن اكون أنانية وبين أن اعود إلى الصواب

لذا قررت أن انتظرك يوميا لأراك قبل ذهابك إلى العمل وأنت تشتري كوبك اليومي، علني أرى عينيك بقرب أو أرى ابتسامتك، ولو لوهلة، عن بعد.  فهذه النظرات هي التي تمدني بالقوة لاستمر في يومي… وأسألك، يا سيدي، ما سبب اعجابي بك؟  هل لأني لا اعرفك وأقوم بوضع حوارات اختلقتها لنفسي وشخصية تخيلت بأنها لك؟  هل سيموت اعجابي إن كلمتك أم هل سأقع في حبك أكثر وأكثر

فلست إلا عابر سبيل اختار قلبي أن ينبض بقربك، وما الحب إلا تجاذب كيميائي.  فكيف دخلت لي؟  هل من خلال عيني، فيا لوسامتك.  أم من خلال أذناي، فصوتك الجذاب يذيبني، أم من خلال عروقي؟  أم هل كنا معا في حياة أخرى ولم التق بك إلا بعد فوات الأوان؟ فيا لحبي للتأخير!

ارجوك، لا تنسى قهوتك اليومية فلا أقوى على بعدك.

هائمة في هبك،

غريبة.

Decision Day

Pursue

A Re-post
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He stood by his desk thinking of the decision he just made and finally followed through after being so reluctant for the past 15 years.  It took him 15 years to take this step and when he finally did, it didn’t feel the way it should.  He wasn’t happy, he was ecstatic.

He looked at the picture of his wife and two boys and wondered how they would take the news.  He didn’t know that today was the day.  He didn’t know that today he would set himself free to pursue his dreams.  He didn’t know that on his way to the water cooler he would deviate and pass by his boss’s office to inform him.

He stood by the glass door of the office knowing exactly what he wanted.  Everything was clear to him.  Everything he did up to this point in his life was clear in his head and he saw exactly where he needs to be next.  He wasn’t emotional and he didn’t have a plan.  Nothing specific happened to trigger the decision, it was just time.

Time.  Oh how much time he wasted doing something he didn’t enjoy.

He had enough.  He had enough with putting on his suit every morning and driving the same route.  He had enough of thinking “what if” and “when will I?’  It was enough procrastination.  He procrastinated his life for the past 15 years and it was time for it to end.

He always knew what he wanted to be and do at an early age.  His passion for the kitchen led him to come back from work everyday and cook, regardless of the workload he carried.  He only felt alive with the chef’s knife in his hand, cutting vegetables and stirring pots on the stove.  He had a calling yet ignored it for so long thinking that his pay was more important than his dream.  He planned to start a small restaurant when he retires but couldn’t go on one more day.  This was it.  This was the day he chose to change his life.  This was decision day.

He knocked on the door and waited for the answer.  He walked in and very calmly explained his decision.  The boss nodded, stood up, and gave him a hug.  The boss knew him too well.  He saw him in the company’s last barbecue dinner and how his eyes lit when he was grilling the burgers, how laid back and comfortable he looked in the apron. He knew he would be losing one of his best employees soon and he was right.

He walked back to his desk and saw he didn’t have many “personal belongings” to pack.  He took the photo frame, his keys, and mobile phone and started walking.  He was never one of the team, he was always a guest that never clicked in.  One step, two steps, three steps, he smiled.  Four steps, five steps, six steps, he turned and looked at the office, everyone was busy working on their computers or talking on their phones. He grinned. Seven steps, he started removing his tie thinking how cliche.  Eight steps, nine steps, 10 steps, he throws the tie in the bin and reaches the elevator.  He presses the down button and waits.

The elevator arrives, he walks in and turns.  This would be the last time he walks into a corporate building and he gladly presses “G”.  He knew that this was the best decision he ever made.

Taking Control- Who’s Pulling Your Strings?

strings

Control

We like to think that we have “everything under control” and that the time spent doing things not on the top of our priority list is an actual choice we made.  Ha!  Wake up and smell the coffee.  Who is really pulling your strings?

Values and preconceptions have been embedded in out minds from a young age and seldom do we question their validity.  We do not question why our parents raised us a certain way and why they enrolled us in a certain school.  We take it as a given that they were and always will be looking out for our best interests.  Now let’s assume that somebody’s parents were selfish people who couldn’t care less what he did in school and who he’s hanging around with.  Does it mean that the strings they are supposed to hang on to and care for get thrown down for anyone to pick up?  Yes, that’s precisely what it means.

If parents are not there to “pull their children’s strings” before the children are all grown up and can pull their own strings, someone bigger and probably not wiser will be more than happy to control them.  Watch out for your kids.

Alright, back to you.  Now after we as children were being controlled by our parents’ values and limits, we quickly graduated to have the school teachers have some control.  This control doesn’t necessary mean it’s bad, on the contrary, it means that we still need some guidance before the time is right and we’re ready to fly from the best.-

The issue lies when we are introduced to a bigger circle.  Friends included in a bigger social circle, the society and its many different ideologies, sometimes religion and people who represent it, celebrities, people with big names, people with no names, your neighbor, your local milk man, anybody can hold your strings and control you when you least know it.  What can you do?  Don’t allow it.

Don’t allow anyone to take control.  Hold your own strings and stand your ground in regards to your beliefs.  You may be surprised that one day you will turn from being the puppet to being the puppet master.

Influence, do not let people influence you

Lead, do not be satisfied with being led.

Make your own mark, find your own voice, and speak.  Believe in yourself: you are your number one everything.  Do not allow yourself to be controlled

Control, who’s really holding your strings?

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