A Healing Place

“Take her to Arizona,” doctors advised first my parents and then my husband, as if going to the desert was some magic remedy for all that ailed me.  Might as well have told me to go to the moon, the possibility of such a journey always just beyond our reach.  Until my husband found a way, deciding to drive me across country in a home on wheels.

Dry air, warm days and cool nights proved to be exactly the elixir the doctors had promised.  Absent the allergens of home, I was able to forgo the anti-histamines, and inhalers that my system had become so dependent upon.  I discovered renewed energy, gained strength, and felt hopeful for recovery. We were there for five weeks.

This year we’re going for three months.  Three months to revitalize my body.  Imagine the possibilities.

Desert days shine blue,
arid temperatures heal –
breathing made easy.

(Submitted for Twenty Four’s 50 word Thursday.  Image provided as part of the challenge.)

Exit Strategy

One more train.

Then she’d be away.  Far enough to lose all communication.  Far enough that he could not find her.

“Can I help you Ma’am?”  a porter reached for her luggage. Passengers crowded in behind.

“Just a moment, thanks.”

Pulling her suitcase aside, she fidgeted with her purse, pretending to be searching for a ticket.  Courage was what she really needed.

She thought of her mother – how torn apart, she’d be.

She thought of her sister – confined to a nursing home, unable to recognize or converse.  Was it fair to leave her?

The porter called to her again, indicating time.

He had a kind face – open and concerned.  The face she’d left behind was not kind, his hands weapons that had lashed out so many times.  What choice did she have?  If she stayed, he would kill her.

So, she would move on.  Start a new life.  Leave behind all that she knew and loved…

The thought stopped her, a sudden rage emerging. How is this just?  Why should he live his life, and I lose all?

She picked up her bag, brushed past the helpful porter, and into the streets.

She needed a better strategy.

(Written for Twenty Four’s 50 Word Thursday – response to be written in multiples of 50 words.  This is 200.  Image provided by Deb Whittam.)

Fatal Fury

Really wasn’t your fault
this fury that overcame –
Words evoked onslaught,
a raging river of pain.

Didn’t mean to push you,
miscalculated my aim,
swimming in swamp waters
not a recommended game.

You floundered, gurgled,
cursed me by name –
our love story, now viral
brought an alligator fame.

( A silly ditty for Deb Whittam’s 50 word Thursday.  Photo supplied by Deb.)