Bedoor Bluemoon

Everyday writing to expose the soul



The Lost Boy

(writing prompt #304.

Source: Writing Prompt #304

He watched through the window as his mother tucked his half-sister in bed and kiss his step father goodnight, then he turned and vanished into the night.  It was a daily ritual for Tom since he ran away from his father’s house six months ago.  His father was an alcoholic who, in his opinion, probably didn’t even realize he wasn’t around.  He was living bad days and worse nights when his father would come back from the bar and wake Tom up from his sleep just to start beating him.  One night, Tom decided it was enough, he was going to go live with his mother instead.

His mother always wanted him in her life.  She never gave him up, on the contrary she fought hard to gain custody of Tom but it was all because Tom’s dad knew how to best beat the system that she lost him.  She cried so hard knowing that her ex-husband didn’t really care about Tom, he only wanted to hurt her by taking him away.

That was five years ago.

Tom lived with his dad and was neglected from day one.  He was abused verbally all the time, listening to how he was the reason his parents got a divorce and why it would have been better if he were never born.  He went to school after he made his own breakfast, changed, and packed whatever junk was available at home.  The place was a mess and Tom tried to keep it clean as hard as any eight year old boy can.  He missed his mother.

Running away was the best thing he did.  It wasn’t like he was living in a better place but at least the homeless man had more paternal instincts and started sharing everything with him.  During the day, Tom would try to sell anything to get some money and buy some food to settle his rumbling stomach and share what little he has with the homeless man.

He wanted to go directly to his mother and that’s when his new habit started.  He reached her new home at seven p.m. one night and saw her new family gathered around the dinner table.  He could smell the roasted chicken but something in him stopped him from ringing the doorbell.  He didn’t want to ruin the beautiful picture with his dirty boots and jacket.  From then on, he continued to watch his mother live her life while he lived his.  She never saw him behind the bushes.

One day, Tom fell asleep watching his mother and step dad watching a movie.  He wanted to feel as if he were a part of her life again.  He sat down and watched from afar until his eyelids could no longer stay open.

He woke up the next morning indoors, on a bed, and with mother’s arms around him.  He knew her smell very well and couldn’t believe it.  He turned around and saw her smiling into his face.

“How long have you known that I’m watching?”

“Just last night.  Do you think I’d let you go if I ever found you?”

When on Vacation- Buy Lollipops



I love traveling.  Who doesn’t, right?  There are many ways in which you can turn your travel experience to better or worse.  Obviously, you must research where you are going, what you’re going to do, and what your budget is.  Who you’re traveling with is very important too because you don’t want to end up stuck with that person you can’t handle for ten days straight, right?

Well, this is the first time I travel with both of my children.  One is three and a half years old and the other is almost a year old.  Things were great, I didn’t expect to have some alone time, nor did I expect to have any free time to shower but, all in all, we created good memories.

Things I learned in this trip could be written in a book but this is a post about lollipops.  Let’s go back to 2009 when I visited Scotland (swoon, sigh, and nostalgic music). I loved every second in Edinburgh and my husband and I would go to St. Giles cathedral and order from their great selection of tarts. I would walk by everyday and see these big pieces of fudge staring at me. I mean, they would look at me walk by, like the Mona Lisa, I tell you!  There was a specific light brown piece which would practically beg to be bought but I never did thinking I’d come back for it.

I never did. (Heartbreaking, tears flowing down my face)

Do you understand, I never did.  I never got that piece of fudge and since 2009 and I regret it everyday!  I never knew what it tasted like, never knew how it would or wouldn’t crumble on my tongue, and I would never know its flavor.

And why’s that? Because I postponed buying it until the day I would travel and to my surprise St. Giles was closed.

Fast forward to 2017. My husband and I were pushing our children in their strollers in the airport and my three year old passes by a big lollipop and says he wants it.

We were running late and my husband refused so we went on.  The light brown fudge popped into my mind and gave me a knowing look, I knew what I had to do.

I held my ground and told my husband that we must buy it or else (OK, not really, I just offered to pay for the overpriced candy) and he lovingly obliged.

We were very late, my husband was very angry, but I got my little boy his candy so it doesn’t haunt him (and me) for the next ten years.

When on vacation, buy your lollipop.

The Pencil

‘Look,’ he said bragging

‘I can twirl the pencil across my fingers!’

Little did they know

that it would be the only thing she couldn’t do,

and the only thing he could…

طفل سوريا


لا تشح بوجهك عني

انظر ما اصبح من حالي

كنت في بلدي البسيطُ

طفلٌ يلعبْ، ولا يبالي

حالتي، نعم، لم تسرُّ

ولكن امي كانت قبالي

تقبّلني كلَّ يومٍ

ارتمي دوماً في الأحضانِ

تُلبسني احمر او اخضرْ

تشتري كلُّ ما في بالي

كنتُ مدلَّلٌ محبوبٌ

تَعَبَتْ لتوفِّر كلُّ آمالي

ويوماً سَمِعْتُ أنّ الحربَ

جائَت لِتسرِقَ كلُّ ما لي

أصبَحَتْ امي كالمجنونة

مصدومة بهالاحوالِ

ولا زِلتُ العبْ وأرقص

فما الداعي لكل قتالِ؟

مطمئنٌ كنتُ كلّ ليلة

العب، أرضع، فأنامِ

وتبقى امي ساهرةً

تضرِبُ اخماسٍ واسداسِ

كأنها علمت بأن الموتَ

سَيُخلِّد يوماً أنفاسي

وجاء ذا اليوم المشؤومُ

انقلبت كلُّ حساباتي

لن اكبرَ وأصبح طبيبا

سأكونُ عَبْرةَ الجيّاشِ

احضنّي يا بحر، احضنّي

لن اري قلمْ او كرّاسِ

سلامٌ لك يا كُرَتي

سلامٌ يا كلّ النَّاسِ

فها أنا ذا الطفلُ البسيطُ

افضحُ نوايا ذوي الكراسي

خيالُ طفلٍ على شاطئ

مات، ومات الإحساسِ

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