“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

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Professor on drums” (A Tribute) #Fridayfictioneers

1979: Protest folk music was dying down and Disco had reached its peak.

“Begin the day with a friendly voice, a companion unobtrusive” blasted through the vibrating buzz alarm of the 1960s turquoise clock radio. (Time for school)
“Spirit of Radio”by Progressive Rock band Rush
Lyrics by Peart
Neil Peart that is, aKa The Professor

Photo Source Pinterest

“If you choose not to decide, you still have me a choice”
“And the meek shall inherit the earth”
“Conform or be cast out”
Prophetic words to pubescent outcast teens, proclaiming Peart understood.
It’s been a year since Neil’s passing,
RIP Professor Sept1952-Jan 2020

100 Words

Photo credit Rolling Stone magazine

Thank you Professor🤘🏼-Goroyboy

This was written for the photo prompt for Rochelle Wiscoff’s Friday Fictioneers 100 word story challenge . Although not a traditional short story. Given the photo prompt of an empty drum set along with the appreciation I have for the artist/poet/lyricist, Neil Peart I found a tribute was in order. additional stories based on the photo prompt can be found here

“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

Chapter 2

“The Rescue”

The shock from the fox regeneration, (from Chapter 1)sent an intense spasm through Bella’s body. It started at the base of her neck, traveled down her spine and snapped her curly tail straight like the whip of a muleskinner. 

Traffic whirred by.  

A string of orange barrels dotted the rural state road,

Click clock,

click clock.  

The clacking rhythm of a flashing arrow sign provided a moderate tempo as Bella trotted along the road shoulder. As the mechanized cadence faded , plumes of carbon diesel exhaust clouded the turquoise blue sky, rumblings reminiscent of the junkyard, reminded Bella of her mother.  

Further down the road, Bella came upon a road construction  truck parked on the pavement shoulder, “sniff-sniff”…something smelled heavenly. Bella cautiously cleared the truck’s undercarriage in pursuit of the deliciousness.  A construction worker named Maria Lopez sat in the truck’s passenger side seat. Her boot laden foot propped the door open as she enjoyed the beautiful weather. Unwrapping the foil from her lunch, an egg, potato, and chorizo burrito, she took her first bite and a morsel tumbled out the door, onto the ground. Bellas wet ebony nostrils  flared wide open drawing in the scent to full effect. 

 

Unable to contain herself, she darted to the food scrap, flawlessly picking it up like a ballboy retrieves faulted balls at Wimbledon. 

Taking refuge back under the truck. Bella waited for subsequent mana from heaven. Another morsel dropped, as she retrieved it, her tender paws shuffled the roadside gravel. As Bella retreated under the truck, Maria caught sight of her. Grinning to herself, Maria threw another piece of potato out the door. The playful dance continued for a few minutes then Maria placed some egg just out of Bella’s reach, atop the truck doorstep.  

Letting out an involuntary  whimper, Bella’s  hunger got the best of her.  She creeped cautiously under the step. Wet nose positioned against the cold tube steel of the step and like a gecko catching a cricket, Bella darted out her pink tongue, snatching up the egg. Maria burst out laughing! 

Stepping down to the pavement, sitting on her haunches, Maria beamed with pleasure at the sight of the adorable scavenger. Longing for the  kindness of her mother, Bella sensed tenderness  in Maria’s face. Taking on a submissive posture with her curly tail wagging, she tinkled a bit on the pavement as she drew closer to Maria. 

Sitting down fully on the ground, Maria’s hand extended, “come on Perrito” “I won’t hurt you”, almost at a belly crawl, the weary pup could no longer be contained as she leapt into Maria’s lap, almost knocking her over. Nuzzling and whining, Bella frantically licked Maria’s neck, her needle teeth gently nibbling and whiskers tickling. 

“ Easy  Easy Perrito! “ Maria giggled. “Oh and you stink!” she said laughing. She shared the rest of her Lunch with Bella. With a full melon shaped tummy, Bella fell asleep in the shade under the work truck. 

5 o’clock came, Maria, returning to the truck, the gravel shuffling underfoot woke Bella. Excited to see Maria, Bella whined and wagged up to her. “So Perrito , what am I to do with you?”she said. Bella whimpered and nuzzled in. “It looks like you have already decided for me.” she said, “Vamos Perrito , I am taking you home.”

Thank you for taking the time to visit my blog and read my first chaptered short story. Today is the real-life Bella’s birthday. She brings so much joy to our home, we love her.

-goroyboy

“When The Morning Comes” A poem by Raymond Roy #poetry

A deafening stillness…

A scattering of stubborn stars shimmer, resembling sequins on a cocktail dress that should have been home, hours before.

As dawn arrives, like ice crystals, the stars relent, slowly melting away for a days rest.

A Cardinal’s silhouette appears in the sherbet orange daybreak.

Boldly he bounds to the treetop and gives his first trill of the day, announcing the gift of a new day.

I heard the first Spring Cardinal the other day. After a bleak winter, it reminded me of vibrant colors and fragrances to come. Peace.

-Goroyboy

Harmony (Dealing with Conflict)

I cannot speak for others but, I admit it, I want to be liked, and accepted.

I can feel anxious thinking of unresolved personal conflict with others when the relationship emotional bank account with that person is overdrawn, depleted.

What about reconciliation?

That takes commitment from both parties.

Admittedly, I have fooled myself into thinking otherwise, sometimes you CANNOT reconcile.

Unfortunately our polarized society would suggest a short sighted mindset that someone always has to lose.

What is left?

Breathe deeply and slow down for a moment…..

What is the alternative?

Harmony…. If there is power in kindness, harmony is the fuel that feeds it.

In my humble opinion, Living in harmony is quite simple:

Step 1. Recognize the others humanity

Step 2. Commit to living a harmonious life with or without them.

Step 3. Accept the possibility that you may never reconcile with that person.

Step 4. Accept the fact that others(even those you despise) have the same right to the pursuit of happiness as you.

Peace

Standing Alone, A poem By Raymond Roy. #Poetry

Image: Raymond Roy

Standing alone, I wonder why. No one is there to hear when I laugh, breathe, or sigh.

What have I done? Have I been cast aside? Is this my Ego’s fault, heavy laden with ugly pride?

I have a choice of self pity or self-reflect. A challenge to my psyche, knowing not what to expect.

Self Pity is an easy-out, casting blame with expectations never realized. On those that would dare disagree with me, whilst I judged and unfairly criticized.

Self-reflection leads to most precious of gifts, wisdom, balance, and peace of mind. Received through humility, love, and the courage of being kind.

Peace.

The image above was taken not far from my home on the day of our first frost. Seeing this tree reminded me of times in my life I have had to deal with being alone. I hope you enjoyed the poem. Peace.

Raspberries

Raspberries

As a kid working in the raspberry fields, in Lynden, WA, it was always about how many pounds did you pick?

15 cents a lb. toward school clothes and money for getting into the HS football games. I think the most I ever picked in one day was 200lbs or around 30$, I was on top of the world. Looking at a raspberry at times brought stress thinking of those long days in the fields. Days of hoping to hear to impact heads of the irrigation running for some flooded relief in the July heat. Today I grow raspberries in my garden, how much did I pick? Just enough to enjoy. Peace.

Sins(life lessons)of the Father By Raymond Roy

I watched your slow paced tough guy strut ready to take on the world.

I watched you come and go to the same job for 30 years and not complain.

I watched you be so loving toward your children yet at times not so, toward your life partner.

I watched you fight in alleys outside a bar with men twice your size, while trying to make a living hustling pool.

I watched you be laid off and swallow your pride by working in the fields to demonstrate never to give up and it is not the job, but the effort put forth.

I watched you joke, laugh, and tease, during dire situations so we felt at ease.

I watched you self destructingly isolate yourself from your life partner, express your heartbreak and heal.

I watched you plead your case toward justice based on being abused by those that should have protected you.

I watched you put poison in your body to escape your personal emotional pain.

I watched your outer shell crack open allowing healing love to fill a pessimistic heart and know you are worthy of love.

Today I watch as my children and grandchildren watch me.