Best Friends

He raked his fingers through his disheveled hair, frustrated.  It was no use.  He couldn’t concentrate on his work.  He had come here to the cottage to work on the manuscript which was due in a couple of days.  The quiet, solitude were exactly what he needed to get him going but his mind was refusing to focus.  His eyes shifted to the time at the bottom of the screen.  All he could think about was her with someone else…  Muttering under his breath, he jumped to his feet and walked over to the window.

He looked out at the mountains as they loomed in the distance.  The lake was calm.  He envied it.  Sometimes, he wished he didn’t feel anything.  It would make life so much easier.  Right now, he didn’t want to feel the pain that gnawed at him.  Why on earth did he break his own rule and fall in love with his best friend?  They had known each other since high school.  Back then, she was a skinny girl with the terrific smile and who wore glasses that were too big for her face.   She wasn’t pretty like the other girls but she was smart and he liked hanging out with her.  They were interested in the same things.

Over the weekends, they went to Art galleries, museums, poetry readings and the theatre.  They weren’t into parties or hanging out at the mall.  They went to the prom together and enrolled in the same university.  His major was Creative Writing and hers was Journalism.  Whenever he wrote a story, he would have her read it.  She was his best critic.  She was more excited than he when his first story was published in the local newspaper.  And it was she who encouraged him to consider writing novels.  One snowy day, he sat down and crafted his first novel which he dedicated to her.  It was a bestseller.

They were friends for life—inseparable until her career as a journalist took her to LA where she got to work at the magazine she had always dreamed of writing for.  It was too great an opportunity to pass up.  It was when they were facing each other at the airport that he realized that he wasn’t just saying goodbye to his best friend but he was saying goodbye to the girl he had fallen in love with.  When they hugged, he closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair.  He didn’t want to let go.

When they drew apart, she gazed up at him, her eyes brimming with tears.  “We’ll see each other in the summer and for the Christmas holidays,” she said.  “We’ll keep in touch every single day.”

He smiled even though his heart was breaking.  “Yes, we will.”

“I love you, Jonas,” she said, reaching up and touching his face.

He swallowed hard.  “I love you too.”  He knew that she loved him as a friend but he was telling her that he loved her as a man loved a woman.

“Take care of yourself.”

“I will.”  He watched her walk away, taking a part of him with her.

The drive back to home had been a depressing one and when he got in, he went into the study and sat down in front of the laptop to write.  Writing was the only thing that gave him any comfort and purpose.

They kept in touch through texting, emails, phone calls, Facebook and Skype.  They saw each other during the summer and over the Christmas holidays.   She had changed somewhat.  Gone was the awkward and shy girl.  In her stead was a glamorous and confident woman.   Gone were the glasses and in place of the braids was her natural hair.  She looked great.  Although they had both changed, they still connected.  Neither was dating.   That changed however, last summer when he visited her for Christmas and was introduced to Roger, the man she had started dating.

They met at some function or the other—he couldn’t remember.  His heart was aching.  Pain and jealousy consumed him.  He smiled but it was a facade.  It masked the hurt he was feeling.   He thought that was the worst moment of his life until that afternoon when they were walking through Seward Park where she told him that she was engaged.  It was too much.  He couldn’t hide his distress.  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.  “I can’t do this.  I can’t pretend that I’m happy for you when this is killing me.  I have to go.”  He turned and walked away.

That was the last time they saw each other face to face.  She had called him but when he saw her number on the display, he let it go to voicemail.  She sent him emails but they sat unopened in his inbox.  Last week, she left a message about him going to LA for Christmas which was a week away.  He couldn’t go.  He couldn’t face her.  He couldn’t bear to see her with Roger.  He couldn’t do it.  That was why he came here instead.  He wanted to lose himself in his new novel but it wasn’t working out.  All he could think about was her.  He was losing his best friend.  He was losing the woman he loved.  How was it possible for a person to live with a broken heart?  Right now he couldn’t see past the pain.

I need some fresh air, he decided.  He moved away from the window.  Grabbing his coat, he left the cottage and went down to the lake where he stood, gazing at the mountains.   What a magnificent view.  The sun hovered over them, enshrouding them in its golden hue.  What he wouldn’t give for Rose to be there right with him now.  Just the two of them, alone out there, no interruptions.   They would sit by the lake and or go for a swim.  Afterwards, they would go and have a bite to eat or go for a drive.  At night, they would sit out on the back porch and watch the stars.

He closed his eyes in despair.  They soon opened.  It was so faint that at first he thought he imagined it.  Then he heard it again.  He turned.  His eyes widened in disbelief when he saw her running towards him.  “What are you doing here?” he demanded when she reached him.

“I’ve been trying to reach you,” she said, trying to catch her breath.

“What are you doing here?” he asked again.

“I came back,” she cried, her expression earnest as she looked up at him.  “I left my job in LA and moved back here where I belong.”

Jonas stared at her, dazed and confused.  “You moved back to Seattle?”

“Yes!”

“But what about Roger?”

“I broke off our engagement.”

“Why?”

“I broke it off because I love you, Jonas.”

He blinked.  “I’m sorry, but did you just say…?”

“Yes.  I love you.  I tried to tell you that when I called and emailed you.”

“I didn’t want to talk to you or to read your emails.  I didn’t want to hear anything about you and Roger.”

“That day in the park before you walked away, you said something that made me realize how you really felt about me.  Before that I had no idea.  I had hoped but I thought you said that because you didn’t think that Roger was the right guy for me.  I didn’t think…”

“Yes.  I was hurt, jealous and angry.  You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you that I loved you.  It was too much to deal with so I walked.”

“I wanted to run after you but I was afraid that I would make a fool of myself.  All the way back to LA, I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said and the way you looked. As soon as I arrived at the airport, I called Roger and asked him to meet me at a café near my apartment.  He took it well.  He suspected that I was in love with you.  After we say our goodbyes, I went home and typed up my letter of resignation.  Then, I booked a flight to Seattle.  And here I am.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t.  I went to your place and your neighbor told me.”

Jonas stared at her.  “I can’t believe that you’re standing here in front of me.”

“This is where I belong, Jonas.  Here with you.”

He pulled her against him, his eyes darkening on her upturned face.  “Yes, it is,” he agreed huskily.  “Now, I really won’t be able to get any work done…”

She smiled.  “So, you’re working on a new novel?”

“Yes, but it can wait.”  He bent his head and kissed her.

The Invisible Seashell

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

“We are like seashells upon the beach, beautiful and unique – each with a story of it’s own to tell. ”

What kind of seashell am I?  What story could I tell?  I don’t think I’m beautiful or unique.  I’m best described as average and awkward.  I’m invisible when it comes to the opposite sex.  Boys hardly notice me.  Whenever I’m with my friend, Becky, they speak to her but don’t acknowledge me.  It hurts, of course.  I want to be noticed too.

Greg’s approaching.  My heart flutters…then my shoulders slump as he walks right past me–the invisible seashell.

98 Words

This was written for the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  For more details, visit Here. To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Source:  The Wellness Hippie

The Ruin of Sarah Ann Johnston

Photo by John Brand

Every time Grandma and I walked past the abandoned house with the gigantic grass shaped cross, she would tell the sad story of Sarah Ann Johnston.  I indulged her.  She was getting up there and forgot that she had told me the story many times before.  I just listened as she talked about the downfall of the reputed most Christian woman who ever lived in Green Bay County.

“We warned her not marry him,” Grandma said, shaking her head.  “but she wouldn’t listen.  We told her that she shouldn’t be unequally yoked with a man who didn’t have a religious bone in him but she foolishly believed that she could reform him.

“Everyone in the county except me went to the wedding.  I’m no hypocrite.  I wasn’t going stand up there and pretend like I approved.  Sarah Ann was mad at me, of course, but I had to be true to myself.”

“It wasn’t long before things got bad between them.  She caught him red-handed with another woman and shot them dead.  Now she’s in jail.  Foolish woman, she should have listened.”

Poor Sarah Anne Johnston.  Her blind and foolish love led to her ruin.

195 Words

This was written for Sunday Photo Fiction hosted by Susan Spaulding. For more details visit Here.  To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

The Trees/Caught #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent

I stood gazing up at the tree.  It was unlike anything I had ever seen.  It was twisted with a gaping hole through which the sun streamed through and its limbs looked like tentacles.  Of course, it got my imagination running wild.  I imagined that it was an alien tree planted among normal trees.  It fascinated and repulsed me at the same time.  At any moment, I expected it to come alive like the trees in Lord of the Rings.

I sat down in the grass beside it and opened my notebook.  It never occurred to me to write a story about a tree but this one begged to be my next subject.  I pondered for a long moment, wondering what could one possibly say about a tree?  Then, I began to write.  The words began to pour out, filling an entire page.

Suddenly, I became very drowsy.  My eyes felt so heavy.  I fought to keep them open but I couldn’t…

I had no idea how long I had dozed off for but when I opened my eyes, it was getting dark.  The sun was setting.  It’s bright orange glow blazed across the sky and engulfing the trees in its fiery splendor.   The trees.  With a start I realized that they weren’t regular trees anymore and they were talking among themselves.  Shaking with fear, I tried to figure out how I could slip away unnoticed.

I closed my notebook and began to creep away, hoping to put as much distance between them and me as possible.  Then, I felt something on my leg and I turned around.  The alien tree was bending towards me and I could see that it had a face where the hole used to be.  It didn’t look like an Ent.  What was it? 

As if it read my mind, it said in a low, deep voice, “I am Gargantwart.  The Ents, I and others like myself protect humans from the tree trolls which invade the forest as soon as night falls.  Quick, climb onto my branch and I will take you to the edge of the forest where you will be safe.  No time to delay.  The sun will soon depart and darkness will come.”

I had two choices, make a dash for it and risk running into the tree trolls or climb on this monstrous tree and have it take me to safety.  The sound of what sounded like thunder, the shaking of the ground and the other trees, yelling, “Hurry, they are coming,” made my mind up for me and in one leap, I was in the tree and clinging for dear life to its branches.

When it stood up, I had to close my eyes because I’m acrophobic.  I felt the breeze on my face, heard the swooshing sound of the wind in the leaves and the sensation of moving through the forest.  It was a weird experience–one that no one would believe.  Then, we stopped moving.  And I felt myself being lowered.

When I opened my eyes I realized that I was lying on the sofa in the living-room and my brother was staring at me.  Startled, I sat up.  The television was on and the closing credits for Lord of the Rings were rolling.  Dazed, I looked around me, trying to figure out what had happened.  My opened notebook lay beside me and written in it were paragraphs of my story.

“You slept through the rest of the movie,” my brother informed me.

I stared at him.  “Movie?”

“Yes, sleepyhead.  We were supposed to be watching Lord of the Rings but, you fell asleep right when they were showing the Ents, the coolest part of the movie.”  He shook his head.  “Sisters, I’ll never understand them.”

I sat there, thinking, this had all been a fanciful dream.  Smiling, I picked up my pen and began to write.

This is written in response to the Thursday Photo Prompt – Caught for Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

Sources:  Wikipedia; Masterpiece Generator

Being a Neighbor

Only Jesus could simplify spiritual matters in a way that anyone can understand.  He summed up the Ten Commandments into two–love God and love your neighbor (Mark 12:30, 31).  When a lawyer asked Jesus the question, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus answered by telling a parable about the man who was attacked on his way to Jericho by robbers and left for dead on the road.   Two men passed by, first a priest who passed by on the other side and then a Levite who looked and passed by the other side.   It’s interesting that both of these men who were associated with the priesthood did not minister to the injured man but left him there until a kind stranger stopped to help him.

Through this wonderful illustration of love and compassion, we learn that our neighbor is not only the person who lives next door or opposite but any person in need.  To be a neighbor is to care for others–show kindness and to help them in whatever way we can.  After Jesus finished telling the story, He asked the question, “So which of these three do you think was neighbor to him who fell among the thieves?”  The lawyer replied, “He who showed mercy on him.”  Jesus told him to go and do likewise (Luke 10:36, 37).

A neighbor is not necessarily someone of our race, culture, background or religion.  It was a Samaritan, not a Jew who stopped to help the man.  In those times, Jews didn’t associate with Samaritans (John 4:9).  To be a neighbor is not to allow our prejudices to prevent us from helping those who are different from us.

When it comes to loving your neighbor partiality isn’t a factor.  The Samaritan didn’t see an enemy lying at the side of the road but a person who was badly in need of help.  He felt compassion for him and getting off his donkey, he went over to him and bandaged his wounds before taking him to an inn where he could recuperate.  Being a neighbor means setting aside our differences and demonstrating the love of God to others.

If you really keep the royal law found in Scripture, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” you are doing right – James 2:8

Madira’s Healing

This story is similar to the woman with the issue of blood.  She had suffered for twelve years and the doctors couldn’t help her although she had spent her money on them. Finally, she had sought out the only One who could.  In faith, she touched the hem of His garment and was healed.  Madira was suffering from an unknown sickness.  The doctors could not ease her pain so she turned to witch doctors whose prescribed methods failed to work.  After six years elapsed, they gave up and for years, Madira continued to suffer.

Then, one day in the midst of her pain, Madira remembered the gift her brother had given her sixteen years ago.  It was a Bible.  It was the last resort.  She and her family had tried everything possible to end her suffering, but so far, nothing had worked.

She pulled her son aside and asked him to bring the Bible and read it to her.  As he read to her from it, something miraculous happened.  The pain left Madira’s body and she was able to sleep through the night.  It was possible now for her to move without the struggle and discomfort.  The words filled her with a peace she had never experienced before and brought healing to her tired body.  This stirred within her a desire to know who Jesus was.

One day they met Seth, a Gospel for Asia supporter serving their area with whom they explained their problems to.  He told them about Jesus’ love and how He was the great Healer and Restorer.  He promised them that if they believe in the name of Jesus Christ, Madira would be healed.  However, after years of discouragement and treatments that didn’t work, they were not hopeful.  Seth encouraged them not to worry because God does the impossible for all who believe in His name.

The family decided that since there was no hope anywhere else they would go to church and learn about God’s love.  There they met pastors and believers who prayed regularly for Madira.  Within a few weeks, God healed her completely.  He had answered their prayers.

For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, And His ears are open to their prayers – 1 Peter 3:12a

Through the fervent prayers of His people, God healed Madira.  This all came about when Madira remembered the Bible which contained the living, breathing Word of God. She discovered its great value and in its pages, the God who wanted to reveal His love to her.  It was able to do what the doctors and the witch doctors were unable to do–bring relief and peace from her pain.

God’s Word is powerful and it still impacts the lives of those who are in possession of it. Help Gospel for Asia to put the Word of God in the hands of more families in Asia so that like Madira and her family, their lives can be impacted too.

Sources:  Gospel for Asia; Bible Gateway

The Funeral

It was a gloomy day with intermittent spurts of rain.  It was as if nature itself was mourning the loss of a great woman.  Tracy was not surprised at the large turnout. The church was packed as many came to pay their respects and pay homage to Mrs. Gladys Townsend, the dear lady whom she had nursed for over five years.   She was a remarkable lady with a magnetic personality.   Although her body had succumbed to the Parkinson’s, her mind was still alert.  In the end, she had died in her sleep.

Tracy remembered how Mrs. Townsend had loved it when she read to her before she went to bed.  She loved Charles Dickens and Jane Austen.  Tracy enjoyed reading to her and couldn’t wait to see what would happen next in the story.  She had Aiden to thank for the position which had been a tremendous blessing for her.  Aiden was Mrs. Townsend’s son.  It was his idea to have his mother remain in the comforts of her home but be attended by a live-in nurse.  He contacted the live-in care agency a friend had recommended.

Tracy was selected for the position because of her experience and qualifications.  It also helped that she and Mrs. Townsend hit it off right away.  Whatever misgivings Aiden might have had, they were squashed when he saw how his mother received her warmly, remarking, “What kind eyes you have.”

Aiden.  Her gaze moved exactly where she knew he was standing.  Tall and regal in the black coat, his expression somber as he watched the coffin being lowered into the ground.  He seemed oblivious to the rain that was falling.  His dark hair glistened in the pale light.  She wanted to go over to him and shelter them both with the umbrella but she remained where she was, off to the side like an onlooker.

At the church, they hadn’t spoken to each other.  He was flanked by family and friends and Caitlin Brown.  Caitlin made no secret of the fact that she wanted to be more than friends with Aiden.  Tracy saw her tuck her arm in his and rest her head against his shoulder.  She looked away, feeling ashamed of the jealousy that stirred in her when she was supposed to be mourning the lost of a dearly departed one.

It was no use denying that she was in love with Aiden.  It might have happened the first time she met him or during those visits to his mother’s home on the weekends. He lived in London close to his office and work kept him busy.  So, visiting during the week was not feasible.  She found herself looking forward to those weekends.  Over the years, feelings developed between them but Tracy had to keep things on a professional level because of her job.  She could get fired if she were to become romantically involved with a family member.

Mrs. Townsend was very fond of Tracy and knew that she and Aiden had feelings for each other but she understood Tracy’s reasons for not doing anything about it.  So, to be on the safe side, Tracy avoided being alone with him as much as was possible. She had watched him throughout the funeral service and when she saw him and Caitlin get into his car, it stung.  She got a ride with a friend.

Now, here she was watching him and Caitlin huddled together.  The coffin was being covered with dirt as the priest said the final words.  Then it was over.  She turned and was walking back to where the cars were parked when she heard Aiden call her name.  She stopped and turned.  Her fingers gripped the handle of the umbrella tightly as she tried to appear untroubled at the sight of him and the beautiful redhead at his side.  She noticed the look of disdain Caitlin gave her and how her long red nails curled into the sleeve of his coat.

Aiden was looking at Tracy who met his gaze, wondering if he could tell how much she wished that the two of them were alone.  Her fingers itched to reach out and run themselves through the thick tresses of his hair.  For his part, his expression was drawn.  “How are you holding up, Tracy?” he asked.

“As well as expected,” she said, touched that he was concerned about her when he must be going through hell.  He and his mother were close.  Mrs. Townsend adored him and was always singing his praises.  “How about you?”

“I’m coping,” he said.  He gently disengaged his arm from Caitlin’s, removed his coat and draped it over his arm as he stepped closer to Tracy.  “Will you let me take you back to the house?” he asked.

She nodded.  It had stopped raining.  She closed the umbrella.

He took her arm and was about to walk away when Caitlin, who looked rather put out, exclaimed, “What about me?”

“Jake will give you a ride home,” Aiden told her before he turned walked away, taking Tracy with him.

“I don’t think she likes me,” Tracy commented as they walked to his car.  She had to almost run to keep up with him.  It seemed like he wanted to get out of  there and fast!

Aiden didn’t answer.  In fact he said nothing all the way to the car or even when they were leaving the cemetery.  It wasn’t until they were a good way from there, that he spoke.  “Tracy, what Caitlin thinks is of no importance to me.”

She looked at him in surprise.  “But, I thought that you and she—”

“How could you think that there is anything between Caitlin and me when I have waited for five years for you?  I haven’t dated her or any woman since I met you.  I know that your job prevented you from getting involved with me but now you are not longer employed by me.  So, what is stopping us now from being together?  I love you, Tracy.  And I know that you love me.”

She nodded.  “I do.  You don’t know how hard it was for me to push my feelings aside all these years.”

“Let’s go away,” he said.  They were at a stop light.  He turned to look at her, his eyes intense as they met hers.  “I want to be alone with you somewhere far away from here.”

“Where would you like to go?” she asked.

“It doesn’t matter as long as we are together.  Perhaps somewhere tropical.  It would be good to get away from this dreary weather and the cold.”

“When would you like to go?”

“As soon as possible.  Perhaps as early as Friday.”  Friday was four days away.  “No one will object, and even if they did, I really don’t care.  It’s what Mother would have wanted.  She was rather fond of you, you know.  She knew how I felt about you and always encouraged me to hang on.  I would have waited for you, Tracy, no matter how long it took.  My only regret is that I couldn’t be with you while my mother was still alive.”

“I know.  I also know that we have her blessing.  Jamaica.”

“Jamaica?” he looked puzzled.

She smiled.  “You said somewhere tropical.”

He laughed.  “Jamaica, it is.”  He reached over and kissed her before the light turned green.

It was on the Friday, their first evening in Montego Bay, as they stood on the beach, watching the setting sun as it hovered over the ocean when Aiden proposed to Tracy. As he got down on his knee, Tracy’s hand flew up to her face as the sound of a sob mingled with a gasp rose from her throat.  Aiden took out the box and opened it, displaying the exquisite ring he had bought the year after they met and which he had shown his mother the night before she passed away.  He had kept it hidden in a drawer just as he had kept hidden in his heart the hope of one day putting it on her finger.

And here they were, on a beautiful beach, bathed with the crimson glow of the sun and the sound of the waves as they rolled on to the sand.  It couldn’t have been more romantic.  As he looked at Tracy’s face which glistened with tears, he thought he had never seen her look more beautiful and his heart swelled with the love he felt for her.

He took the ring out of the box and reached for her hand.  He slowly slipped the ring on, savoring the moment.  It was a perfect fit.  He stood up, his eyes held hers for a moment before he took her in his arms and kissed her just as the sun disappeared into the sea.

Sources:  Christie’s Care; Hilary’s Agency