Amie Andrews stepped into her lovely new house and hurriedly closed the door behind her. The wood floors gleamed and the smell in it was of "new home". She had just gotten through decorating the entryway or foyer, as she loved to call it a few days ago, and it was the last room in her home to do. And it had turned out beautifully. She opened the closet door and hung her big purse on one of the hooks, and dropped her keys and sun glasses in a basket she had placed on a table that stood against the wall. She glanced around appreciatively at the colors she had chosen for the walls and the accessories. Then satisfied she had done a great job, she checked her appearance in the round mirror that hung above it. In the reflection, she saw a slightly older woman, maybe in her sixties with a fairly unlined face, with blue eyes and auburn hair.
Amie leaned in a little closer and stared into her own eyes, then stepped back hurriedly as she saw something she did not understand. Now she was familiar with those eyes as she had been looking at them, and looking out of them for years now.
But today she had seen something quicken in their dept that was alarming: a flash, a glimmer. Something that brought about a quick intake of her breath.
But was it a premonition? Something to come? Did it explain that constant pain in her stomach?
She sucked in her stomach, and lifted her shoulders and put a smile on her face, then ruffled her short hairdo, and pinched her cheeks for more color. Upon entering the kitchen she looked around for her husband and was totally surprised as it looked like he did not have any thing set out and ready for lunch. They had talked about having ham and cheese sandwiches on grain bread with iced tea to drink after she got back from her appointment. He loved to putter around in their pretty new room but he usually had the table set with place mats and napkins, and dishes from one of their many luncheon sets when she would let him into her area.
But today for some reason he was not there. Usually soft music filled the room from a small speaker that was hooked up to I Tunes, but this early afternoon the room was quiet.
"Tony, where are you?" Amie called as she went through the rooms, leading to their bedroom first, thinking he must have decided to go back to bed, after all it was his day off from the office. And come to think of it, Amie thought quiltily, he'd seemed so tired lately and after all, he was a hard-working attorney.
But coming into the room, she saw their bed was untouched and nothing seemed disturbed. No clothes strewn around, no closet doors standing open or any drawers out of line.
She saw his bathroom door was closed and paused. Did she hear the shower running? And after standing for a minute and listening and hearing nothing, she called out again.
"Hey sweetheart, are you in there?" And when she didn't get a answer, she knocked discreetly then turned the knob and swung the door inward, then whispered, holy hell!
Follow the adventures of Lindy Lewis from the day her house burns....
Monday, August 24, 2015
Monday, July 27, 2015
Stay tuned.....
Hello Friends: I'm sorry I've had to take some time off and just finish up some family things, and also, have been incredibly busy getting my next book called "Almighty" ready to send out for the finishing touches.
I will be back with a "blood curdling" short story later in Agust.
Thanks
Lyn
I will be back with a "blood curdling" short story later in Agust.
Thanks
Lyn
Sunday, May 31, 2015
AGE and Dreams
"How can you be that old, that's my age!" I said again at one of my children's birthday parties and it always causes laughter. Now and then though, I'd catch a glimpse of worry cross their faces. I would see it often too as they drove away after a visit, as they waved goodbye. They'd throw kisses and smile as they left, but probably all wondered, really how is she?
Well, you know as the parade of time flies by for me, no matter how old I get I can thank my God that I can still think young. Well why not, sometimes I even go so far as to think I'm still in my forties and fifties. And young and taut!
Years ago, a hundred it seems at times, things were so different and I was nesting happily. Bills were paid up with money in the bank. I shopped and cooked and tried new recipes and enjoyed my grandchildren. A bulge had started around my middle, but that was expected at this time and it was okay. Painting, planting, mowing, oiling and filling were just some of the numerous things that were miraculously done around my house and yard,without much notice.
Then abruptly, things changed and the love of my life died! Now my constant companion was lonliness and sadness. And forgive me Lord, I felt so much anger. Here I had been so happy at last, and life was easier, why did this have to happen?
I felt sorry for myself, after all, I was a good person; I didn't deserve this. How would I manage? Who would hold me now and always be there to protect me from the three am demons in the night?
Worst of all, I had to live by myself, alone with me and the inevitable quiet that continued day and night without end. This was something I had never been faced with.
Well, I prowled the house at all hours of the day and night, lost sleep, drove miles and wandered aimlessly trying to find a niche to fit into. I didn't have that safe cocoon I'd built around myself anymore, this was a different world!
Well, I survived but it wasn't easy. But I can acknowledge the changes I had gone through wth a smile, as the solitude in this house forced me to get to know the real me. As over time I stuggled with self-worth, self-preservation and then of course, survivor's guilt. It took time and I started to write about my sorrow, and, I filled many tablets those first years. Which to this day I still write, but now it's for entertainment.
Now, I cook if I please or buy take-out. I decide if I want to send Christmas cards or not. I can blare my music late in to the night or go to bed at six o'clock. And mportantly too, I have learned sleep in the middle of the bed!
So my number of years may be staggering kids, but my thoughts and feelings are alive and well, and again with a youthfull curiousity.
Circa 2005 Lyn Lacoursiere
Well, you know as the parade of time flies by for me, no matter how old I get I can thank my God that I can still think young. Well why not, sometimes I even go so far as to think I'm still in my forties and fifties. And young and taut!
Years ago, a hundred it seems at times, things were so different and I was nesting happily. Bills were paid up with money in the bank. I shopped and cooked and tried new recipes and enjoyed my grandchildren. A bulge had started around my middle, but that was expected at this time and it was okay. Painting, planting, mowing, oiling and filling were just some of the numerous things that were miraculously done around my house and yard,without much notice.
Then abruptly, things changed and the love of my life died! Now my constant companion was lonliness and sadness. And forgive me Lord, I felt so much anger. Here I had been so happy at last, and life was easier, why did this have to happen?
I felt sorry for myself, after all, I was a good person; I didn't deserve this. How would I manage? Who would hold me now and always be there to protect me from the three am demons in the night?
Worst of all, I had to live by myself, alone with me and the inevitable quiet that continued day and night without end. This was something I had never been faced with.
Well, I prowled the house at all hours of the day and night, lost sleep, drove miles and wandered aimlessly trying to find a niche to fit into. I didn't have that safe cocoon I'd built around myself anymore, this was a different world!
Well, I survived but it wasn't easy. But I can acknowledge the changes I had gone through wth a smile, as the solitude in this house forced me to get to know the real me. As over time I stuggled with self-worth, self-preservation and then of course, survivor's guilt. It took time and I started to write about my sorrow, and, I filled many tablets those first years. Which to this day I still write, but now it's for entertainment.
Now, I cook if I please or buy take-out. I decide if I want to send Christmas cards or not. I can blare my music late in to the night or go to bed at six o'clock. And mportantly too, I have learned sleep in the middle of the bed!
So my number of years may be staggering kids, but my thoughts and feelings are alive and well, and again with a youthfull curiousity.
Circa 2005 Lyn Lacoursiere
Thursday, May 7, 2015
Alone with Time
I sit here in my faded robe
My morning coffee at my side
The shades are up, the day has dawned
And all my thoughts are on a ride.
Now I wonder where my time has gone
So fast at times, I ponder
Can these days slow down for me, or
Will they put me under.
What will give me comfort now
I question as I sit here
Will the coldness in my heart
Awaken soon. I hope. I fear.
My buoyant heart is worn and old
My hair is full of wire
My thighs are slim, but hang all wrong
My only warmth is from a fire.
My loves have always been my life
My strength and courage, and my home
Now I wonder if there's time, and
Do I really want to roam.
The times I've loved have been and gone
The lessons sometimes hurt
My feelings have been ripped apart
High and low, then tossed and turned.
Will I be content to rest
Forever in this slump
Or will I trample out to buy
The things I'll need to pump.
Will the lotions and the oils
Revitalize and give me hope
Will I emerge so ravishing
Or will I fail and mope.
Will I really need the lace
The perfumes and the creams
The magic of the "Wonder Bra"
To fulfill all my dreams.
Will I emerge again anew
Or will I cry and whine
Will I stay inside my house
Or will I dance and dine.
Will I dare to venture
Or is it time to sleep
My books, my socks and washed out flannels
Forever in my keep.
I ponder in my faded robe
A new day, warm and bright
My thoughts have circled, now plans abound
The road is now in sight.
No I say, I just won't do it
I'm learning now to live
Alone with me, content with time
Myself, the gift to give.
-Lyn Miller Lacoursiere (Cira 1995)
My morning coffee at my side
The shades are up, the day has dawned
And all my thoughts are on a ride.
Now I wonder where my time has gone
So fast at times, I ponder
Can these days slow down for me, or
Will they put me under.
What will give me comfort now
I question as I sit here
Will the coldness in my heart
Awaken soon. I hope. I fear.
My buoyant heart is worn and old
My hair is full of wire
My thighs are slim, but hang all wrong
My only warmth is from a fire.
My loves have always been my life
My strength and courage, and my home
Now I wonder if there's time, and
Do I really want to roam.
The times I've loved have been and gone
The lessons sometimes hurt
My feelings have been ripped apart
High and low, then tossed and turned.
Will I be content to rest
Forever in this slump
Or will I trample out to buy
The things I'll need to pump.
Will the lotions and the oils
Revitalize and give me hope
Will I emerge so ravishing
Or will I fail and mope.
Will I really need the lace
The perfumes and the creams
The magic of the "Wonder Bra"
To fulfill all my dreams.
Will I emerge again anew
Or will I cry and whine
Will I stay inside my house
Or will I dance and dine.
Will I dare to venture
Or is it time to sleep
My books, my socks and washed out flannels
Forever in my keep.
I ponder in my faded robe
A new day, warm and bright
My thoughts have circled, now plans abound
The road is now in sight.
No I say, I just won't do it
I'm learning now to live
Alone with me, content with time
Myself, the gift to give.
-Lyn Miller Lacoursiere (Cira 1995)
Sunday, March 15, 2015
REVENGE (8)
Red, Laverne and Lola all agreed to meet later in the coffee shop in the hotel. It had been so good to just be themselves and share, like it used to be.
As the grownup former students entered the school for the class reunion, they recognized the same smell in the building, only more pungent now. The furniture polish, old boards and old sweat brought back a reminder of their younger days. The gym was set up with extra tables and chairs, with crepe paper streamers and plastic flowers centerpieces.
The kids were all there; only fatter, skinnier, older and some richer and some poorer. The snobs from the "prominent famillies" were still snobs and spent most of the night in their own circle as usual. All in all, Lola, Red and Laverne talked and danced the night away and the party for them was a sucess.
At the close of the evening, three shadows darted, one by one, each unaware of each other, and made their way to a white house next door to the school. Each one was carrying a small bag that had been hidden in their evening bags.
Lola was the first to get there and she found Jake Rierson wondering the house in his new jeans and flannel shirt, the set he only used for special occassions. When she burst in and he recognized her and saw the look on her face, he felt the first tinges of fear. After a few minutes Red and then Laverne came in. Now his fear was real and he knew something bad was going to happen to him.The girls stood there for a minute as the realization of their purpose registered, and instantly they knew that they were all there for the same purpose.
They met again later in the coffee shop and gossiped about the party and made plans to meet again soon. The next day they each left to go back to their busy lives.
Later, Lola gave up her profession and wrote a book on her life as a prositute. It was published and she became a famous novelist and later traveled the world.
Red decided to challenge her "phobias" finally. One of which was driving on the freeways. One day she got her courage up and thought, this it it! I'm going out there and just do it. And she was doing pretty good until she was going down a ramp to enter heavy traffic, and the old panic attack came back. Her soft humming of a "church song' was drowned out by her terror as she saw she was going to crash. She died instantly.
Laverne raised her four kids and worked hard for years. She stayed in her therapy group and got stronger. Later when she was alone, she went to school and learned how to be creative in her thinking and in her work. She opened a learning center for battered and unskilled women to come to and stay while they learned how to put their lives back together. She was to become famous for her work.
Years earlier, a small article had appeared in a small town paper. A man by the name of Jake Rierson
had burned up in a house fire. There were some strange evidences, but no clues were found. However, his body was burned beyond recognition, and the small remaining residue of rat poison in his stomach went unnoticed. And the acid burns on his head and body may have been from some batteries that had exploded from the heat. The only question remaining that puzzled the police was, why was there piano wire around his balls and tied in a bow?
As the grownup former students entered the school for the class reunion, they recognized the same smell in the building, only more pungent now. The furniture polish, old boards and old sweat brought back a reminder of their younger days. The gym was set up with extra tables and chairs, with crepe paper streamers and plastic flowers centerpieces.
The kids were all there; only fatter, skinnier, older and some richer and some poorer. The snobs from the "prominent famillies" were still snobs and spent most of the night in their own circle as usual. All in all, Lola, Red and Laverne talked and danced the night away and the party for them was a sucess.
At the close of the evening, three shadows darted, one by one, each unaware of each other, and made their way to a white house next door to the school. Each one was carrying a small bag that had been hidden in their evening bags.
Lola was the first to get there and she found Jake Rierson wondering the house in his new jeans and flannel shirt, the set he only used for special occassions. When she burst in and he recognized her and saw the look on her face, he felt the first tinges of fear. After a few minutes Red and then Laverne came in. Now his fear was real and he knew something bad was going to happen to him.The girls stood there for a minute as the realization of their purpose registered, and instantly they knew that they were all there for the same purpose.
They met again later in the coffee shop and gossiped about the party and made plans to meet again soon. The next day they each left to go back to their busy lives.
Later, Lola gave up her profession and wrote a book on her life as a prositute. It was published and she became a famous novelist and later traveled the world.
Red decided to challenge her "phobias" finally. One of which was driving on the freeways. One day she got her courage up and thought, this it it! I'm going out there and just do it. And she was doing pretty good until she was going down a ramp to enter heavy traffic, and the old panic attack came back. Her soft humming of a "church song' was drowned out by her terror as she saw she was going to crash. She died instantly.
Laverne raised her four kids and worked hard for years. She stayed in her therapy group and got stronger. Later when she was alone, she went to school and learned how to be creative in her thinking and in her work. She opened a learning center for battered and unskilled women to come to and stay while they learned how to put their lives back together. She was to become famous for her work.
Years earlier, a small article had appeared in a small town paper. A man by the name of Jake Rierson
had burned up in a house fire. There were some strange evidences, but no clues were found. However, his body was burned beyond recognition, and the small remaining residue of rat poison in his stomach went unnoticed. And the acid burns on his head and body may have been from some batteries that had exploded from the heat. The only question remaining that puzzled the police was, why was there piano wire around his balls and tied in a bow?
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