“Warriors Never Die” by Raymond Roy 100 word fiction

PHOTO PROMPT © Krista Strutz

DING DONG!

2am. The headlights of a dark sedan illuminated the honeysuckle hedge by the front walkway. Looking through the side window, the porch light reflected off the Marine officers silver insignia. Oh God NO!

We laid him to rest at Arlington.

6 months before he deployed, we laid the foundation of a cabin by the water. “This will be our family’s legacy cabin Pops”! “For generations”!

It’s been a year. I eased up to the shore on my paddle board. Whoosh Whoosh, a bald eagle landed on a log right in front of me. Overwhelmed, I began to weep.

Word count -100

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wiscoff Write a complete story in 100 words or less based on the photo prompt. Click here for additional takes on the prompt.

-Goroyboy

“Just Like Old Times”

PHOTO PROMPT © Penny Gadd

The hunted winced as he tried to remove the blood crusted brick red gauze from his gunshot foot. Easing his foot into the cool creek water, the current softened the dried blood, allowing the removal of the bandage. Some of the pain subsided. Minnows darted at the suspended cotton fibers and coagulated blood particles in the water.

“I’m gunna get you Wabbit”!!!

“This guy is serious” thought Bugs as he hunkered down.

Word Count-70

Written for Rochelle Wisoff Fields Friday Fictonners challenge to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt thanks . You can find other stories here.

Glow

The night is quiet less the shuffled sound of sandal turned desert rocks and labored breathing.

My hands grow increasingly numb with every step, backpack straps from the heavy pack full of all our worldly possessions restrict the blood flow to my arms, but we must keep going.

From the darkness an innocent voice asks, “What is that father?”

Vapor from our warm breath momentarily glows like a cloud, illuminated by the distant bright lights of the Kabul airport.

Without looking down, nor losing a step I respond, that’s hope my son, that’s hope”.

Word Count=94

“Thaw”

“Thaw”

“I don’t want to talk about it, but the quiet might be worse”-Sabrina Song “Thaw” Official video

Powerful lyrics, so reflective of the times we live in. A long emotional winter.

“Emotional Winter” photo by Raymond Roy

Personally over the past year, an increasing number of my relationships, typically after “Speaking my truth” have grown cold and I have literally run out words to say. Left only with the heavy dense fog of silence residing in what seems to be ever widening gaps.

I recently heard that in Vietnam, there is a saying, “before you speak your mind, wait for seven heartbeats” (perhaps a lesson to speak from the heart rather than the mind). I suspect the isolating truths I spoke were not from my heart but rather from my mind(ego). As Tolle puts it so well in “The Power of Now”, Egos win when they convince us to focus on the mistakes of our past and the worries of the future. Living in the present moment is the ego’s nemesis.

In the present moment, neither the past nor the future exist……

By design we all need to feel loved, be treated with kindness, and dignity. We need the warmth of an emotional Spring. I am ready to “thaw” by striving to live in the warmth of the present moment and stand ready to count to seven in order to speak from my heart, and not my mind. I hope you’ll join me.

-Goroyboy

“The Great Deceiver”

My Doctor recently retired, I was under his care for 20+ years. I appreciated his demeanor and willingness to listen. After he would listen to me, out of mutual respect, it was my turn.

Right on cue, his facial expression turned to that of a muse. He would raise his finger and politely ask, “if I may share something” and then skillfully weave his medical guidance with relatable anecdotes and carefully selected metaphors.

He had seen me through years of anxiety management, from Zoloft, Paxil, therapy and today, happily, anxiety med free.

On the topic of alcohol he called it, “The Great Deceiver”. He mused, “alcohol may momentarily numb emotional pain, but it doesn’t address the source of the emotional distress..” I filed this away in my brain housing unit under the category: “Hmm, I might have to think about that”

Recently I read Malcolm Gladwell’s “Talking to Strangers “in which he presents the theory of Alcohol Myopia (short sidedness). My interpretation in layman’s terms was an alcohol induced “tunnel vision” where depending on YOUR individual state of mind(happy, depressed, angry, adventurous, etc..), as you enter “the tunnel”, will effect your alcohol induced experience.

I grew up around alcoholics and had a front row seat to a wide variety of drunks, kind, angry, racist,loving, deceitful, and the list goes on..I always wondered why alcohol effected people differently and to me, the “tunnel vision” theory makes perfect sense.

Not to limit my position as simply being a spectator, I can speak also from personal experience. I have drank my share of alcohol and can attest to many of the theoretical effects of alcohol myopia.

I look at it as if you are going on a ride at an amusement park. Step right up folks! What’s it going to be tonight?

Enter the Happy, Celebratory Ride: Enter the tunnel happy, excited. Who doesn’t love a good wedding or celebration. Next morning: man what a great time! Memories made for a lifetime.

The Cocky ride: Feeling cocky going into the ride and the beer muscles appear. You feel invincible. I still have a busted up nose as proof.

The Lonely Depressed Ride: Enter sad, lonely, perhaps self loathing.Next morning: Low self esteem is even worse than before. This can become an endless cycle, and the rider simply wants to numb the emotional pain..

The Anger Ride: Enter the ride mad at the world and watch out to whomever is in front of you. I saw this first hand as a kid. It was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

The Racist Ride: I had no idea that the person I was with had racist tendencies until he was drunk, and started shouting racist epitaphs at the middle eastern taxi driver.

The Empty Promises Ride: I experienced this as a kid, yeah yeah we will go fishing, next day, had no clue they even said it.

I am not condoning or discouraging alcohol use and any clinical psychologist’s out there please chime in.. After reading about alcohol myopia and the fact thatalcohol doesn’t change, it makes sense that a key factor of your alcohol experience depends on your state of mind and environment while consuming.

Peace

-Goroyboy

“Newspaper” Relationships

As I understand, Hemingway said that writing for a newspaper meant you needed to forget everything you learned from the previous day on the job and wipe the slate clean because there is a new story to be had for the next days headline.

In contrast, Hemingway said writing a story or a novel was to celebrate and apply what you know and learned in life..

I think relationships are the same way. Some are like newspapers and some are like a well written story or novel.

“Newspaper” relationships are all about the headline of the day. Slights, hurts or even joys for that matter experienced from the previous days story, mean little. Newspaper relationships are the days big headline with not allot of substance. At times you may wonder why you keep the subscription. If a newspaper relationship is to work, you must accept it for what it is and not rain on it with expectations lest it stop showing up on your front porch.

“Novel” relationships are like a favorite book that speaks to you. It is based on trust, commitment and mutual respect in which you allow yourself to be vulnerable, open to the story’s point of view and potentially grow as a person.

Peace-Goroyboy

“Heartbeat” A love poem by Raymond Roy #lovepoem #heartbeat

Before we say anything else…..

Listen to my heart beat…..

Before you say another word slow down and listen to my heart beat….

The fact you are so close means I trust you.

The fact that my heart is beating means, I am willing to share the precious gift of life with you

Holding you near….Listening to your heartbeat reminds me that, we are merely human and make mistakes including, saying things that might be hurtful.

Our heartbeats beating means there is still time…..

Time enough to make amends…

Time enough to forgive…

Time enough to be still…

Still enough to hear our hearts beating as one

Happy Valentines Day❤️

-Goroyboy

Time To Go- A short story By Raymond Roy #Friday Fictioneers

The airbrushed retirement cake read, “Happy Retirement Barry”.
Barrie felt the misspelling was a Crisco laden representation of how irrelevant his position had become.

Swing top trash cans overflowing with solo cups and paper plates, conveyed an end to the festivities.

Back at his desk, it was laden with outdated office supplies. The office hummed with impersonal clicking on laptop keyboards, a cold replacement for face-to-face conversations.

Barrie felt a hand on his shoulder.
“You ready Dad?”
He looked up at his Son, “Time to pass the torch I guess Son”.
I’ll take care of it Pops!

100 words

Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff to write a 100-word story based on photo prompt. You can find other stories based on this prompt here

-Goroyboy

The Garden A poem By Raymond Roy

Down the step and through the gate,

My sanctuary, my escape, my garden awaits.

Brushing against mint, a fragrant clean, sunlight on basil illuminates a warm wrinkled sheen.

Earthy sage, for a cleansing smudge, bright tart strawberries best served with ice cream or dipped in hot fudge.

If you are quiet you can hear, Pumpkin leaves and Cucumber vine grow, hiding the walkway, disrupting the row.

The majestic Russian Mammoth Sunflower pays them no mind with round, welcoming face, she’s hosting the honeybees brunch time. .

Beefsteak and Roma leaves droop in the midday heat like waxy umbrellas. A slight breeze carries a geranium-like fragrance.

The warmth on my back, melts away the weight of the world.

Cicadas buzzing as if they were nature’s tea kettle boiling and whistling from the summer heat

-Goroyboy

“I will rise (2020)”, a poem by Raymond Roy

Photo Credit: Candy Staton Gammoh

I will rise….

Distant sunrise, cool morning breeze,

above the clouds, I rise with ease.

Like Ironman flying, I rise above,

Seeing those that have passed, my heart fills with love.

Gone is the weight of daily drama,

Which one is better, Trump, Biden or Obama?

Photo Credit: Denise Fullner Kittleson

I will rise,here souls have no gender, doctrine , origin, or race,

no conflict, hatred, color of face.

Time as we know it, does not exist, social media likes, or media twists.

I will rise, becoming stardust, from whence I came, free of life’s burdens, only love, no shame.

I will rise….

Revamped from an earlier version which I felt was timely. The peaceful pictures generously shared by friends reminded me that we will return to the stardust from whence we came.

Stay Well. https://dversepoets.com/

-Goroyboy