The CouchWe were on the couch, bodies intertwined. My arms around her waist, hands meeting at the small of her back. Her arms around my neck, holding on as if her life depended on it but I guess it did. We had brought each other back from some pretty dark places and had become fond of each other. Maybe fond isn't the right word for what we were to each other.The Couch by Wanderer-of-Nations
She was my angel, my saving grace. The one person who had been able to pull me back out of the dark recesses of my mind and put me back together. I met her and she painstakingly put every piece back in it's proper place and made sure I wouldn't fall apart again.
I was her way out. A way to escape her family and people who dared to call themselves her friends. I took her away from all her problems and helped her stop the ways she had been using to escape. She doesn't cut herself or try to drink everything away. She holds her head up high now. Laughs, sings, and dances like no ones around, even in a crowded room.
She thanks me every day for
OutThe coughing woke her up, well that and the delightful smell of frying fish and grits helped quite a bit too. "What happened?", she thought,"Did I fall asleep at the bar last night?" It was then she noticed she was laying in a small bed and the shirt she was wearing was definitely not hers and that the bed was moving, or the whole room was moving. Panic started to creep in as she tried to remember what the hell happened last night. "I still have pants and underwear on so I didn't sleep with anyone so how did I get here?" Her train of thought was broken when a man walked in. The first thing she noticed was he had tattoos running down his arms and on his chest though she couldn't quite make out what it was because he was wearing a wife beater. "Mornin' sleeping beauty, you up for some breakfast?", he asked. She noticed the slight southern tang in his voice. "I'm sorry but who are you and how did I get here?", she replied, being very cautious. His laugh was loud, full and deep bellied. "HOut by Wanderer-of-Nations
Journey of the Dragon WindIt was a stormy night at Ciudad de Fuego. The kind of night where the bars are full of people just trying to outlast the storm and have a little fun. What I needed was a bottle of rum and a couple of pretty ladies. What I got was a bottle of rum and a couple of handprints slapped onto my face. I opened the bottle, tipped it up, and took a long draught. Thanking whatever gods there might be that we made port the day before. I looked over the charts laid out on the table, searching for where we might go next. As I was taking another draught from the rum, my first mate Anna barged into the room, looking angrier than usual. "Dammit James! We were supposed to leave port in the morning but this damn storm is going to keep us here for at least another two." "Relax Anna", I calmly said, the rum starting to kick in,"The men want to enjoy themselves and we had a very big haul this go around, just let them relax and blow off steam. Truth be told they need it and you need it too. Grab a drink andJourney of the Dragon Wind by Wanderer-of-Nations
UntitledThe tears dropped down his face as he stood by the side of his beloved spouse. They had been together for fifty glorious years. He stood there silent, already having said what was needed to be said and just waited. The heartbeat monitor started getting slower and slower until it finally...stopped. Nurses and doctors flew into the room trying to bring back the patient, the parent, the lover, the friend, the soul that was laying in the bed. The paddles were charged and used. Compressions were done. The paddles were charged and used again. Compressions were done again. The paddles were charged and used once more. The doctor swore, knocking over equipment and fuming. Why had this happened. The man stood in the back. Tears streaming down his face but he didn't utter a word. Not a prayer, not words to comfort himself. He was broken. What was there before would not be there again...and what was there now could never be fixed.Untitled by Wanderer-of-Nations