She stood watching the screen motionless, no real emotion rising one way or another. Why wasn’t she surprised? The others stood waiting. They knew they’d found the thing that would push her to a breaking point, they would get their sick satisfaction seeing her cringe and burst out excuses and condemnations. Unsatisfied and unhappy lot, they had to get theirs somewhere. Finally one spoke, “You call that acting…”. “I wasn’t acting; he’s my husband.” She remembered the producer’s house, all the nights they’d been invited there by the bartender, most of those nights the producer wasn’t home. He’d been filming them, her husband that is, in their favorite bedroom. She was doing what he wanted, making him happy, being herself even though some of it she didn’t like but you were supposed to please your husband, and in turn he should please you, you were supposed to be able to let him see the worst things and it would all be ok because you knew his too. What she didn’t know! “Look how unhappy I was” she was surprised to see the story her eyes told. “No wonder people take my writing the way they do. I’m very obviously there. This is me… and… it makes sense why everyone thinks I’m an actress.”
The room had become quiet. Did they realize what had happened? Maybe. She didn’t know she was being filmed, well, had been. Was there any victory here? “Wow, how lovely I was then, sexy, and flexible” she spoke softly, absentmindedly. She rallied, “Well, I never signed a release. Someone owes me a salary, a pretty hefty one.” She turned toward the host of the event. Everyone was hanging their heads in shame.
“Where did you get this?”
Sliding door blinds pulled back looking out onto the dark listening to the peace, well with the washer in the background… still, that’s joy for me. In fact it got quiet, not like when a child gets quiet there’s cause for concern but quiet that it’s time to put what’s washed in the dryer. Then that hum’ll be in the background. Already done with my first cappuccino, fragrant, warming, clicked on both fragrance warmers, need I say fragrant and warming scent filling the apartment, and the biggest plan I have for today is walking to the local grocery store to buy hot cocoa.
Oh, and resetting the font. Hang on…
Should I succumb to Cambria? Never!
Speaking of beware the silent child, one of my little guys in the infant room – the biggest one, it had to be – has taken to biting so when he gets quiet beware for real. Yesterday he got two of the four, in fact; with one he left a mark that warrants an incident report so I have to rethink what to do with him when I’m cleaning up after meals. It just isn’t safe to turn your back on him; the kids are sitting ducks if you do. I’ll have to keep him with me in one of those busy chairs with the different gadgets to occupy a child then when I’m done we can both go to the ‘bullpen’ (the play area for my boys) and at least I’ll be right there. He’ll grow out of it… hopefully sooner than later. It seems like only yesterday I could let them all play together watching as they figure out how to become a tiny community while getting some cleanup done, my only concern being “don’t bang your toy on the window” and “you’ll be fine, you’re ok”… Yeah, it was only the day before yesterday before all hell broke loose.
Doesn’t life change in a blink…
I knew you before you turned
Before you were bitten
Before your stars changed
Before fate played
Depends on your view
I see it before me now
You must go a new way
With your going comes the past
No sense on that to dwell
Will you control the waning moon?
And the transformation it brings
Will you pass me by?
In the form you take
I don’t fear
You’re still beautiful to see
I want you near
Your guttural howl I can hear
Lay your head
By a warm hearth
Make your bed
Your prompt this week is:
…with your going comes the past…