Margaret Whittle's Blog (14)

Fleeting Dreams

It  came to her in the night.  After tossing and turning for what seemed hours, deep rem had finally enveloped her, bringing with it a dream of how she would soon wake  and finally have the answers for all the questions in life. 

Clear as glass she could now see all-encompassing solutions and a smile began to play on her lips.  She could hardly wait for the soft morning light to sneak  thru the window, genteelly awakening her from slumber so that she may rise and show the world what…

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Added by Margaret Whittle on August 4, 2012 at 7:26pm — 3 Comments

The Gift

 Smack in the middle of January's brash bluster, a rare 68 degree day had cropped  up out of nowhere and she was taking advantage of the gift, one she took as a personal sign of a subtle Happy New Year greeting from Mother Nature.  The french doors were wide open allowing a balmy breeze to invade the room.  Both cats had come out of hiding from under her bed to languish in the however brief respite from the winter norm and they were tucked up under her arms,  coiled in circles, creating…

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Added by Margaret Whittle on January 14, 2012 at 9:33am — 5 Comments

A Little Christmas Eve Tale.

Timothy was what you could call a Free-Range mouse, since he was originally a pet for Michael, who as a typical ten year old  boy with the attention span of a gnat,  had forgotten to latch his cage.  Traps were not allowed in the house since that breakout and even Micheal's  mom now only rarely jumped when he skittered across den floor looking for dropped treats: a crumb for some, constituted a meal for one very small rodent with a darling black nose and grey fur as soft as, well a…

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Added by Margaret Whittle on December 24, 2011 at 9:38am — 3 Comments

Through the Grey.

The colors of the holidays could not dispel the grey in her soul.  Two that she loved had passed during the previous months and their memories seemed to drape, over what should be a glorious time of year, a thin veil of melancholy on her life.   Her continual stream of activity: the baking, the shopping, the wrapping, none seemed to enable her to rise above the shroud of what could only be a re-occurrence of mourning;…

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Added by Margaret Whittle on December 22, 2011 at 8:51am — No Comments

The penalty. ( For Sandra)

... and as the gavel fell, the decree being rendered, forthwith and agonizingly; she moaned softly so that only her nearest and dearest could hear, "What's done is done, but I fear I shall never be able to withstand the severity of it all".

She looked forlornly at the calendar hanging on the wall.  Fifty two weeks in the year; fifty two days of anguish ahead of her.

"CRUEL AND  UNUSUAL", that is what the headlines should read in…

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Added by Margaret Whittle on February 9, 2011 at 4:02pm — 2 Comments

Time is Relative

How much longer could he go on?  An eternity had passed and his hope was waning fast. 

Though she had left again in a rush only this morning , abandoning  him with a slight of hand, half a  smile and a "See ya later big guy",  the hours seemed to stretch into days; no months, no years.

Gone, gone, gone, the anguish was breaking his heart and he just could not understand how she could be so nonchalant about leaving him, after all they meant to each other. 

Just when he…

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Added by Margaret Whittle on February 1, 2011 at 3:34pm — 2 Comments

Let Freedom Ring

She slowly savored her last sip of coffee and gazing out over the city she thought, what a beautiful day to die.  She had laid the gun carefully beside her on the towel after a thorough cleaning and buffing,  then loaded it with those new shinny bullets she had found in his top dresser drawer.  The gun had been used, just as she had, and the chill of it's metal barrel felt in harmony with the coldness in her heart.

How often, she wondered, does one develop simpatico with an inanimate…

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Added by Margaret Whittle on January 31, 2011 at 8:39pm — 2 Comments

Nice Puppy



She looked like a big ole teddy bear. Everyone wanted to come up and pat her. She lay there so regal, so polite; her long flaxen fur billowing around her crossed front paws and her huge brown eyes drawing them ever closer. The sign said " Beware the Dog", but they always thought it was a hoax ,a ploy, a mind game designed to keep only the thieves away. Outstretched hands with wiggling fingers, taunted just under her nose, slowly inching nearer to the snap. Few ever noticed the shift in her… Continue

Added by Margaret Whittle on July 16, 2010 at 8:30am — 2 Comments

Gone Fishing

The boat was loaded down with all the best gear: Rods - Shakespeare Ugli-Stick, reels - golden Penns, nylon line - 50 lb test and bait - alive & kickin' shrimp fresh from the docks. Days had gone into the planning: checking the tides and the line of the stars to the moon and potential invitees' horoscopes had been perused, with unlucky participants thrown to the wayside. Licenses were in order, life jackets measured for proper fit and the rest of the required Coast Guard gear was safely… Continue

Added by Margaret Whittle on July 15, 2010 at 9:00am — 2 Comments

Gone today, here tomorrow?

I'm sitting here in my lime green frog slippers and faded orange Miami Dolphin Tee, glaring at the blank white screen before me, listening to "Dancing on the Ceiling" with my wandering mind wondering what "is" Lional doing these days? Maybe I need a snack, something sugary packing a jolt to bring me back on track? Maybe another cup of coffee, with some of that yummy caramel cream that I discovered at the store yesterday; would that do the trick? Ideas circle around my head like a halo but when… Continue

Added by Margaret Whittle on July 10, 2010 at 9:11am — 4 Comments

Share, please?

She sits on the pool steps for hours at a time or so it seems. She's a swimmer, a champion swimmer at that, but with the heat and humidity, swimming just takes too much effort. I watch her from my lounge chair, sneakily peaking over my current thus official "summer read" of the week. I too would like to sit on those steps and enjoy the coolness, but alas there is no room. She is as wide as she is tall and to move her out of the way is problematic. She has staked her claim to those steps, and in… Continue

Added by Margaret Whittle on June 27, 2010 at 1:14pm — 6 Comments

Waiting

Ok, I've had just about enough of this. Sitting here day after day waiting for that all saving e-mail that never comes. You know the one I mean; the one that says "love your manuscript" or "you're hired" or "you've won" or " I love you too". Hopes, dreams, desires live in the potential of that ever elusive email. Hmm, maybe if I can't receive one, maybe I should send one instead. Surely someone out there is waiting just like me.

Added by Margaret Whittle on June 10, 2010 at 12:03pm — 2 Comments

The Word.

"No." It had become her favorite word and she bandied it about shamelessly and without regard as to whom it sent into madness. Her use of it translated, depending on who you were in her world, into such demands as; "Come get me or I'm hungry or Pick me up or Leave me alone" or an array of many other such important topics. Her constant screaming of her word had absolutely sent me to the brink of desperation. "How much longer?, I cried aloud to anyone that would listen. How much longer till she… Continue

Added by Margaret Whittle on May 25, 2010 at 12:55pm — 4 Comments

Me, myself & I.

Being trapped in this madness had become such a way of life, that she had pretty much given up on finding a doorway to salvation. With her ears perked for an answer that she wanted to hear, she continually asked " How in the hell did I get into this mess and now that I'm here who can I blame it on besides myself? She thought she had perfected the art of deflecting the truth but that Nagging Feeling kept a tap-tap-tapping on her shoulder, pointing it's crooked little finger right at her, the… Continue

Added by Margaret Whittle on May 20, 2010 at 9:30am — 3 Comments

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