'Death and Politics' and a little spring cleaning

I wanted my heading to reflect the changing season but since we're not really green here yet and the snow is still melting in the foothills as you see from this picture taken on a hike on Saturday (there was more snow elsewhere but I wasn't really into taking pictures of snow!)...

In anticipation, I've jumped ahead to summer in all it's glory. Hope it warms you up as much as it does me!

I want to thank Talei at Musings of an Aspiring Scribe for the 'Stylish Blogger' award she honored me with last week! I have also been remiss in thanking Alberta at Alberta's Sefuty Chronicles for the 'One Lovely Blog' award and JYS at A Writerly Pensheep for 'The Stylish Blogger award. It was a big week for me on the award front and I appreciate the honors that were bestowed. Check all of these lady's blogs out and see what wonderful sites they have! Thanks again for the awards!!! 

Small update: I mentioned that I applied for a new position at work the week before last. I am still waiting for a call about the interview, but I will have one as it is guaranteed if you're already an employee. (Sounds good but it feels a little like an obligation date.) So I wait!!! While I am talking about my job, things have picked up a bit and I am having a harder time blogging during down time (what down time? Is the question that I am beginning to ask) and while I have never had a set schedule for writing, I've been posting about 3 times a week. With less time, I am not sure I can post that often and still have the evenings to write. Of course writing is the priority as you can understand I am sure!!! I am still checking in on YOUR blogs wherever possible and commenting when I have time.

I missed posting my WIP last Sunday so I've posted it below. If you need/want to catch up, you can read the previous pages below and for the full document click on the tabs at the top!

Relative State
_____________________________________________________

Blinding sunlight penetrates the orbital septum, Excalibur to the brain. I flinch and burrow my head in down layers.

It was her.

I start as a door squawks complaint. Was she alive? Shuffling footsteps close in. Was she here? I rise and stumble to the door, wary of the ghost-filled hallway. Where was she? A flutter at the window. What was it? storage? for what? The unsettled calm of the spruce floor threatens collapse. Could I have gotten her out? Did they know who I was? I should have gotten her out. What does it mean? The vibrant hush of the house unnerves. . .

Whose voice had I heard?

What were th—

            Caskets?

My mind spins the exquisite, chaotic mathematics of a spider’s web with perplexities and fear.

“Good morning.”

“Roo-ro-roof”

[Large dog bounds into room]

“Ree-oww-err”

[Cat leaps, flips, clings to rafter, hair on end, eyes bulging]

[Granny enters, shoos dog outside]

“Now, now, out you go.”

[laugh track]

Thettle down Thylvester. Back to earth.

“Sleep well?” The eyes greeting mine were gentle but devoid … void. He seems insensible to my panic, words spoken to express polite but perfunctory interest in my wellbeing. My aunt’s grieving husband bumbles down the hall and descends groaning steps before I can reply.

I stare at my hands, the imprint of the cool metal tattooed on nerve endings. Had I slept? Had it been a dream?  The sudden sting at my little toe as I step onto the cool tile of the bathroom floor recalls the nip of rocks. Not state’s evidence…

More, I need more…

I strip and cleanse myself under the tepid trickle that had become a joke for our little trio. (“Shower? more like a sprinkle… well, really a tinkle. Gives “taking a pee” a whole new meaning.” Lou’s humor was… (is!) quirky, catching her audience off guard and spreading her cachinnations like a yawn. The most ecclesiastically austere beldam was heard to chortle when her rollicking laughter beach-balled around the room.) Distracted and disturbed, I mindlessly scrub and towel off, voluptuous ambiance become function. Murmured consolations drift toward me and I hover at the top of the stairs to drop eaves, unconcerned with the fate of the curious cat.

“Too coincidental…” the discernibly feminine voice is shrill, anxious to be heard. The controlled response in low baritone reveals my uncle’s patience although his words are too quiet for distinction. 

“I don’t believe it…” words topple out, unequivocally strident, interrupted only by muffled responses. “ludicrous! I don’t care what he says… He’s an idiot… the whole town knows… You’re cra--… you can’t allow him to file… There has to be something… Damn it, David! I can’t believe you! You’re… you can’t accept this… There has to be a better explanation… aliens?… Well, it’s no coincidence… not hysterical… I know this isn’t X-Files… three people are missing… sorry! I’m very upset, not trying to upset you…”

The emotional avalanche loses its momentum, whiteout settling to troubled calm. Assurances, directives and solace filter up the landing unheard, buried beneath a rock slide of mental reverb.

Three people missing …

Missing people…

three maybe.      

Explanation! Missing people, town knows.               

They know!                             

Explanation for missing people, no coincidence.                                

Where are they?                   

Sheriff hadn’t mentioned . . .                   

you have to connect . . .

one, two, three…    

not likely isolated, no body found        

                      witnesses from a distance,                  

other people missing . . .

                                     four, five . . .     

No time for fineries … yesterday‘s wadded wardrobe.                      

Missing people.

Three!                 

More surprising if it isn’t connected . . .

sixteen, seventeen, eighteen.  

Oh, look it’s an elephant in the room.

Find a pencil, idiot!

She might be leaving. Downstairs. Move.

Three people missing …

no one connecting…

connected …

connect…”

I reach the bottom stair, a hoarsy whistle escaping, “What people are missing? three? Why didn’t you… this is important, don’t you think?”  questions bubble to my lips, stilled by the clicking latch. The empty room yawns at me lazily.

Apparently not…