Letter to a Ten Year Old (a short story)

Letter to a Ten-Year-Old

Written March 1st, 2012

It was a radiant summer day when I skipped down to the end of the driveway at the bidding of my mother to fetch the mail. Birds sang and butterflies danced, their performances filling the pleasant golden air decorated with sunlight.

            I was only ten then, my proud first year of double digits that I had long anticipated. In those days, the world was so small and simple, consisting of only a fence that I frequently jumped to reach the field and woodlands, my house and family, and above everything a sapphire sky with rabbit tail clouds. What lay beyond those boundaries, my small microcosm, were only distant dreams and aspirations that I still had a long time to wait for.

            I hadn’t the slightest clue I was in for a big surprise when I delved my hand into that black metal box to claim what the world beyond my boundaries had sent my family.

            I was delighted to find that the letter on the very top of the pile was addressed to me. My wondering eyes poured over all the stamps and markings decorating the envelope, announcing the many distant incredible places the letter had journeyed through to reach me. Me, a simple, unimportant American ten-year-old.

Lessons from Sheba

Lessons from Sheba

Written January 8th, 2012

There is one person in particular that I know I could never forget, even if I made an effort. She was present in my life for almost my entire childhood, from when I was a year old until she passed away when I was thirteen. When I remember her, all I can do is smile and shake my head, still amazed to this day that massive influence she had on me as a child.

            One of my most cherished memories is when Sheba helped me overcome my fear of the dark. Growing up, I lived next door to my grandparents. Sometimes my mom would ask me to fetch provisions from their house when we ran out of things, like milk or sugar. When she asked at night, it was all I could do not to cry. I would run as fast as I could to Grandma’s house and back, convinced I could hear some awful monster pursuing me as I ran. When I darted up the porch stairs, I imagined grotesque, slimy, clawed hands reaching out from under the porch to grab my ankles.

One summer night, my family and I were sitting on the porch, just relaxing and talking. I looked out across the field and saw that it was full of fireflies, and I had the urge to catch them. But of course, my fear of the dark stood in my way. The field was a long way away from the comforting light of the house, and handling a flashlight and catching fireflies simultaneously would be cumbersome. But I was determined to go firefly hunting. So, I asked Sheba to come with me, knowing her presence would comfort me. Mom and Dad would be keeping a vigilant watch form the porch too.

Faerie Dreams (a short story)

Faerie Dreams

Written in Winter of 2011

A small boy, no older than the age of five, came to find himself in a large, fantastic house of stunning, brilliant colors. It was as though the house had been specifically designed for Easter celebrations. The walls were adorned with luscious pastel shades and intricate winding patterns, delightfully filling his senses. There were wonderful smells of fresh baked cookies and pies, and the taste of sugary, candied things was in the air.

            Faeries danced and flew about the room, singing and laughing and playing, their voices like summer birds and sweet Sunday bells. They welcomed him with smiles and pinched his round boyish cheeks. One faerie in particular, an impish, mischievous girl with bright orange hair, took his hand and twirled him around. The air shimmered around them as they spun, as though they were a sparkling mirage. With a cry of delight, the boy found he could fly.

The Light in the Fog (a poem)

The Light in the Fog

Written June 20th, 2011

I can see you there

Shimmering somewhere in the shifting abyss

Inviting me with little hands

Materializing, then with a twirl disappearing

Leaving my heart warm

And my cheeks full with a smile

I hang on to this flickering daydream

Like the sunshine dancing on the ocean waves

Leaf Raking (a poem)

Leaf Raking

Swish Swish

A pile of red brown orange yellow

Gathers at my feet

I smell the crisp autumn odor

Wafting up from the ground

It’s not too hot

Not too cold

I can remember so easy now

Frolicking in leaf piles

As a child with my dog

So I do this chore happily

Because in my state of childhood abandon,

It’s so easy to forget

My adulthood sorrows



Big Brother (a poem)

Big Brother

Written March 23rd, 2011

I grew up an only child
Among adults, coinciding in their world
I followed their example
Reading and writing preferred over play
I liked to learn new vocabulary
Instead of playing with dolls all day

I often wished on lonely days
Hanging upside-down off the couch
To amuse myself
With only T.V. for company
That I had a brother.
Perhaps a little one would be nice
To look after like the adults looked after me
But a big one would also suffice
He would play with me and protect me