A Vincent Price Welcome

     Thank you for visiting my blog!  Over the past month I have come up with Twelve chilling excerpts from which I hope to grow entire stories. I call it: #sinistercountdown.  For now enjoy my very own pictures and twisted sense of writing for Halloween.  You can always follow my writing and pictures on this blog or look for my user name: eatinganelephant on Instagram! 

http://instagram.com/eatinganelephant

Now scroll through my blog to older posts and leave a comment if you'd like! Hope you have a terrifying Halloween! And no I did not take that picture of Vincent, were not that good of friends.

Brother and Sister

     Streetlights flickered on and off while rain fell lightly on black asphalt roads. The neatly trimmed hedges along either side of the sidewalk grew darker with each passing minute. 

     "Hansel you're walking too fast! It's too slickery for my shoes." To prove the point Hansel's sister Gretel slid through a shallow puddle. 

     Neon lights flickered between water droplets, they were alone it seemed. 

     "Did you hear that?" Hansel's hands tightened around Gretel as the unmistakable slosh of feet echoed off locked store fronts. 

     "He's followed us." Gretel began to shake at her own words. Unbidden, both moved quickly, skirting puddles as their plastic rain jackets whipped behind them. 

     "There! See that store! I think it's open, there's a light on!" Gretel fought down rising bile as she scanned shelves and shelves of brightly packaged items through large windows. The foot falls grew louder as their follower splashed heedlessly through puddles. 

     He was getting closer. 

     They reached the door, which was cheerfully frosted to look like a waterfall. Large curved door handles seemed to reach for their open hands. Hansel hesitsted, 

     "This isn't right." 

     "Hansel this is no time to think, we're going to get caught by Him!" Hansel reached out and grasped the brightly colored door. It stuck fast to his skin, as if coated in sugar. 

     "It's sticky...Gretel, I think it's made out of-" Before he could finish the statement Gretel pushed him inside, the door clicking shut behind them. "-candy."

 #sinistercountdown

The Witch

     The rain had subsided, clouds breaking apart to reveal a deep azure sky. They walked me down the main street, hands bound in thick iron cuffs. 
     "Curse thee, wicked woman!" A crowd has gathered in the slick thoroughfare, they brandish burning torches and baskets of rotten food. 
     "How dare thee bring the wrath of the Almighty upon our people!" 
     A priest dressed in black from head to toe brandishes a worn bible, "Thus saith He that those caught in lying and secret combinations with the Devil deserve unending torment!" 
     I stare at the sky, saying a last goodbye to clouds above me. My God has forsaken me, I am surrounded by lies and treachery. More shouts sound as I continue my path, crossing the main square and onto the steps of the town hall. 
     A woman pushes to the step below mine and spits in my face, "It was thee who brought on the plagues, the fires and worms and rotting crops! The Devil can have thee!" 
     These people have no idea what is about to happen, I am the last stone holding back the tide, if I go IT will take every last one. 
     Up flights of stairs and onto a small balcony, my life is to end on a projection of stone, where a noose swings in the gentle afternoon breeze. 
     "Have ye any last words oh Witch?" The hangman asks as he lifts the rope up and around my neck. 
    "They will never learn." 
A firm hand pushes me into open air.
 #sinistercountdown

Resolved to

Voices hissed through dried leaves that still clung to brittle branches. 
     "Come to us." They called, rustling in the cool autumn air. "Come." 
     The small boy stood before the gnarled and twisted tree. It towered over him, branches twisted into a sinister smile. Seth was told never to play next to the Whispering Tree because it would learn your secrets. 
     "It took your father one day." His mother had said, staring out the kitchen window as they sat at the table. "It learned about the darkest part of him and the next day I found him, curled at its roots, his body covered in tangled bark and leaves. 
     "Blood was everywhere. The police said it was suicide, but I knew better. It was that tree." Seth remembered a solitary tear had run down her cheek, falling from hollow eyes. 
     "I promise mom, I promise I will never go near the Whispering Tree." But today, Seth knew he had to break that promise, even though it would mean his death. 
#sinistercountdown

The Meeting

     The table was set, boiled water having been placed by a servant moments earlier. The man obsessively straightened a tray of biscuits, alining it perfectly with the cream container. 
     "Now we are ready." 
He muttered to the room at large, glancing at the gold brushed teapot. It glinted menacingly in the lap light. A gentle knock echoed in the room, "Let him enter, Gerald, the gentleman is expected."
     He glanced one last time at the dragon weaving it's snake like body across the clay surface of the pot. A suited man entered the room, scanning anything everything he could get his eyes on.
     "Ah yes Mr. Holmes, delighted to meet you at long last."
     Mr. Holmes stared quizzically at him, and the red curtains behind the man. "Don't be so courteous  Moriarty, we both know exactly why we're here." 
     Professor James Moriarty smiled, "The game is afoot then!"
 #sinistercountdown

Rememberance

     As the shadows deepen within the great hall one picture seemed to stand out most of all. 
     "Isn't that the one father would always turn around at night?" The speaker turned to her brother,"Said it gave him the willies when he'd walk by it." 
     Charles' eyes widened with horror, "I can see why Sophia. Look!"
     Sophia followed his tremulous finger. The painting had change. She screamed. Her mother's face looked out, eyes sunken, papery skin pulled taught over smiling skeletal teeth. The Witch, it seemed, had lived on.
 #sinistercountdown

Creature

     I'm being hunted, my skin crawls as I feel a single pair of eyes seeking me out.
     "Aaarrrrrooohh!!" It's getting closer, I need to get to the water. My feet slip over wet stone as I hear the thing panting, air sucking down its snout, claws slashing a path through dense foliage. It can smell my blood, my fear. My foot steps into a cool current and I slip down, down into a deep pool.
     "Aaaarrrrooh!!" Water swallows up my head, filling my open eyes, "I hope I'm not too late." #sinistercountdown

The Grove

     Drums echoed within his head, thundering all around the darkness. His body shift side to side as if dangling over an open abyss.
     Boom. Boom. Boom. 
     "Where am I?" Was what he wanted to say but his tongue, it seemed, had swelled inside his mouth. He opened his eyes, fear energizing his body. Colors swirled around his head. Below him ground passed by quickly. Piles of pine needles and leaves stared back at him as he traveled upside down.
     "Mmph!" Gagging, he drew in a deep breath, cool air stinging his nostrils.
     I am upside down. He thought, as the smell of smoke filled his nose.
     Boom. Boom. Boom. 
The drums sounded louder and clearer now. He looked up, tears stinging his eyes as he saw his hands and feet tied to a thick wooden pole. 
     What is going on? Why am I here? Who's doing this to me? 
     Boom. Boom. Boom. 
     Two tall figures stood in front of and behind him, breathing heavily and grunting with the effort of carrying his body. In the dimness he saw their outlines, huge arms and heaving backs, thick horns curling back over their heads. 
     "Mmmrrphng!" His shout did little, but elicit a sharp grunt from the form at his feet. Their pace quickened. 
     Boom. Boom. Boom. The light began to brighten, dancing over the trunks of passing trees. A cloud of smoke passed over the three figures. The man looked past the figure hauling his body. Ahead of him flames danced in an open pit, great branches piled on one another, blacked by heat. 
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. 
     Figures danced in the light, twisted and shimmering around the open flames. His entire body started to shake. He could see two large iron poles, with forked tops, on either side of the fire now.
     "Hhhrrrghng!" He screamed, but only strangled fear leaked through. "I'm going to die." He though, as the light became unbearable to his eyes. 
     I'm going to die. 
The men holding him lifted the pole even higher, flames reached for him. 
     BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! 
     I'm going to die.
#sinsitercountdown

A Portal

     "Sammy we're not suppose to go in there! Mum told us not to!" Mark dug his heels into the dirt as his older sister dragged him towards the watershed's open door. 
     "Stop it! Let go! You're hurting me!" He twisted his arm, but his sister's fingers dug into his skin. The boy cried out, "why are you doing this Sam?" 
     His sister stopped, her head turned to the dark recesses of the shed. "I'm not your sister." 
     "What?" Mark fought down a sob, ears burning from the deeper, more menacing voice coming from Sammy.
      His sister pulled tighter on his arm, continuing to drag him towards the sun worn building. It's single door yawned open, waiting for him. 
      "Wh-who are you?" She gave no reply, merely bent his arm painfully and force him to face the door, feet stopped inches from the darkness. 
     "Who are you!" 
     He looked back into a face he'd never seen, his sister's blond hair falling over a darkened brow. Black pits glared into his face. 
     "The Gatekeeper."
 Mark felt himself thrown through the doorway into the waiting dark. 
#sinistercountdown

An Afternoon in October

     The leaves whispered above me as I laid under the cool shadows of a tree. 
     "Rest, rest." The tree called with every breath of wind. I found myself lost in the moment, unaware of all around me. Which is why when I heard the screaming, I didn't immediately jump from where I lay.
     Something dripped on my face and arm. Curious I opened my eyes. The leaves swung in the late afternoon breeze, red gold in the sunlight, blue sky unrelenting against the autumn colors. 
     The screaming continued. 
     Another drop fell from the bows above, splashing down onto my nose. A metallic tang filled my senses and I quickly raised my hand to my face. I wiped the liquid from my skin, smearing it over my cheek. It was warm and clung to my skin unlike ordinary liquid that fell from the sky. 
     More drops fell on me and I stood up slowly, a drop landing square in my open mouth. My stomach dropped and heart began to race. 
     It was blood. 
     Blood. 
     Blood was falling from the tree. 
#sinistercountdown

Luck Runs Out

     Hands reached out with broken nails and bloodied fingers, swiping blindly through the shattered window. Moans of the dead filled the air as she screamed, "Open the door, open the door!!" 
     His hands fumbled for the key, scraping it against the lock. Behind the two figures wood groaned under the weight of a hundred bodies. 
     "I've got it!" He shouted, "I've-" CRACK! The door gave in, ragged corpses piling in like a mountain of sand. At the same moment the key caught in the lock snapping in half. 
     "-Got it." The woman screamed. 
#sinistercountdown

Tracking the Lost

     They hung there, the smell of rot and decay clinging to their ivory surface as once had muscle and sinew. A diminutive figure on horse back raised a hand to the sky, shielding his face, "We must turn back Master, the Fates have left us their sign." 
     A raven cackled maliciously on a nearby branch. 
     "It is too late Igor," said the slender woman that stood beside her steed. She looked upon the grinning bones, cloaked in crimson, "The predator has become the prey." 
#sinistercountdown

A Debtors Due

A metal spade scraped across dirt and stone, thundering down onto a warn wood lid. 
     "Don't do this! It wasn't me!" Soil continued to pour down heedless of muffled cries. The single pool of light filling the space darkened as he twisted, brushing against damp walls. 
     "Don't. Don't, d-don't bury me alive!" 
#sinistercountdown

Happiness

Happiness is:

Foraging in your own backyard

Eating strawberries leaves and all

This face

Knowing these little hands are my entire world

On a Scale of One to Ten: I am Dolphin.

Seriously, on a scale from one to ten, one being: I'm awake, I put the right shoes on the right feet; and ten being: Oh my gosh, that guy looked like Gerard Butler (when in fact the guy in question was a coat rack); I find myself settling around: Dolphin.

10 hours in a room and hallway, constantly rolling wet paint over textured walls can do that.  I'm not sure if it's an after affect of the non-existent, non-detectable paint fumes my eyes seemed to pick up.  Have you ever tried to stare opened eyed at a mountain of snow?  No?  Try it for 10 hours and that's about what my eyes felt like.

After messing up in every way possible, even while being told what not to do, I got the hang of paint rollers, paint liners, drop cloths and the fact that paint will never come out of clothing. . . .ever.  I really did find out the depth of patients one needs to handle beginning painters.  I have none.  My brother-in-law has an incredibly deep reservoir of patience that I never thought possible.  He never took away the roller and put me in the corner (which I did mentally) nor did he kick me out of the project and tell me to go play in traffic, he just kept on painting, talking and leading me by example.  I know once or twice he probably wanted to pat me on the head (with a folding chair) and say it's okay.  By the time the day had run it's course, we had one bedroom and one hallway coated with three to four coats of paint (including primer).  Now it's on to the baseboards, shelves and carpet.  Do worry brother-in-law, I won't roll the roller backwards.

While spending all my time yesterday industriously working, I came to this realization.  In high school, while other males of my age were studiously memorizing different teams, players, moves, logistics, scores, records and other such things I spent my time memorizing and learning to recognize bands.  Particularly 90's rock bands (I blame my father).  Brother-in-law had his phone playing Pandora.com and eight times out of ten I could name the band.  I don't know whether I should be proud of myself or ashamed.

On the upside of all this, I escaped to Target for an adventure with my wife.  We both were a dolphin on the tiredness scale and thought we should get some Christmas shopping done.  So naturally we came out of the grocery isles with a sweater, salted caramel hot chocolate, chocolate Tim Tams, bagels, Ovaltine and regretfully no tuna fish.

While in line for the checkout next to the couple expecting twins, buying a body pillow, our bangled and pierced cashier twittered over all the pregnant women in her line, telling everyone her friend was pregnant, how she was going to spoil it, baby sit it, love it, squish it, bounce it, turn it into puddy and press it against the Sunday funnies, and so forth.  Hopefully the baby will survive the encounter, and come back unpierced.

I wonder if they will ever make a body pillow the shape of a P. . . .for Pregnancy.

Oh, and speaking of Ovaltine, I don't think I have ever experience it's chocolaty goodness until today.  I have to say between huge gulps all I could think of were these:

I love my life.

New Beginnings in Familiar Places

You know that feeling you have the night before a big test?  Or the day before you are leaving on a plane bound for outside the small boundaries of your known galaxy?  How about the time your were in a school choir in elementary and it was the night of your first big performance, or just before the ref blows the whistle for your first game of little league soccer.

Mix that with the feeling of Christmas Eve, the night before you birthday and the first day of October and that's about how I feel right now.  Not to mention the relief that comes with the ending of Monday.

Tomorrow I have a job interview.  The first one in months, and what do you know, it some place I've been before, for two plus years.  I've been willing the weekend away hoping that tomorrow would come three days ago, and now it's here.

Wish me luck and send good vibes my way, I'll need them.

Have you ever felt so connected to your work it has become a part of you?  I'm not meaning that you get so involved with it that other pursuits in your life become meaningless and you morph into a horrible robot that has only one goal in life: to work.  Not that.

Have you ever felt that you were not merely content with the job you have, but feel like your life was being inspired to be and do more than the simple nature of your employment?  Life seems to have a new light.  I probably sound absolutely crazy, but it's how I feel, at least at eleven o'clock at night.  I feel the same way about my future career.  (Which is a giant float enigma waiting to be caught by good students all around.)

I feel so passionate about helping others achieve their goals.  Nothing makes me smile more than to see others progress.  It's the process I enjoy most, helping them take those steps to greatness, being better than they were the day before.  There is something so wholly organic that I can't help but to be captivated by the strength of a human being.

People have asked me what I want to be when I grow up, first of all I don't want to grow up.  Second, I want to give aide to those who are in need.  Many assume I mean to be a counselor for one's employment, or for delving into the human psyche to reveal the damaging past that made the person who they are today. (Not to say that those are very relevant and important jobs in society, they just aren't for me.)

 No, I want to help those in need of getting back on their feet after a harrowing experience that life throws at them.  I want to help someone recover from the limits of their mortal frame, move past road blocks, and rise above to become great persons than they once were.  To travel the long road as a companion, friend, and guide, urging them to move forward, not look back and strive to live their experiences on planet Earth to the fullest.

I want to be an Occupation Therapist.

(no idea what they are, just send your questions my way, I'll shed some light on the subject.)

Anna

I've loved the weather lately with roiling dark clouds above my head, brief interludes of rain followed by the smell of Autumn.  It reminds me of how much I love to write.  I'm not exactly sure why the changing of seasons inspires me so, but I'm glad it does.

So I guess for the hundredth time, I'm going to write as often as my schedule permits me while I have these few precious months of inspiration.

Today I talked with Anna.  She was out of place, surrounded by functional plastic, buttons, lights and compressed air.  Her withered frame tucked lightly in the far corner of her room.  I almost didn't see her, but by a small wave she caught me.  Her skin was lined and dusted with the light of the sun, hair white and eye rich with memories.  I smiled and asked her how everything was, she smiled back lightly," As good as things can be."

We talked for a while about life, adventures, deserts, 250 lb snakes, that were "too damn big" for either of us.  As we talked, I watched the lines ease from Anna's face.  Light seemed to shine behind her eyes, as memories faded in and out of our conversation.  A rye smile was fixed in her lips as she recounted the meetings of long faded personas: John Wayne, Grace Kelly, Dean Martin, the list went on.

Our conversation was easy and light, we shared memories, likes and dislikes, but above all we talked about the desert.  Deserts, if you didn't know already, are beautiful.  They may seem like daunting, heat-ravaged ovens, but to one who has paused to look, knows behind the first dusty layer.

"People who think the desert is a horrible place really don't know what they are talking about.  There missing the point.  Take this hill behind me, do you see the different layers?"  A nobly finger stuck out toward the window, "There from that flat part to the ridge above, do you see how its the same?  The grass, bushes, even the dirt.  But look," the finger pointed higher, "there, above those rocks, the grass changes, its different.  Things aren't the same."

Anna's finger pointed higher, "And even at the top of that mountain, its completely different."
Knowing eyes turned to me my young face, "It's beauty, plain and simple.  And they don't get it because they're too busy trying to find the why."

Anna's creased hand gently rested on mine, dwarfed by my knuckles, "Mike, see here, don't be like that.  Don't go through life looking for the adventures.  Life is full of them, everyday.  Don't waste time on trying to find them, you'll miss it all completely.  Enjoy the moment as it comes, then you can learn."

I nodded my head knowingly.

"Lord knows I've gone through so many adventures, and I'm bound for the greatest one of all." Anna winked, "I'm not ready to go there just yet."

I smiled, feeling a shadow pass over my face, I suddenly felt so young, sitting there, a sapling growing its first leaves hearing the secrets to life whispered from this old sassafras tree.  But Anna smiled again, a smile full of life, joy and hope.

Anna grasped my hand again," Go have an adventure Mike, and make sure to take your wife with you."

I squeezed her hand and smile, "I will Anna, thank you."

A moment.

Today was Saturday.  Not Monday or Thursday, but Saturday.  I started it off like any other normal, sane, warm blooded mammal would with a walk at 6:30a.m.  We've recently changed our place of habitation and thought it prudent to explore the new scenery.  Our first attempt was somewhat thwarted by mosquitoes the size of frozen burritos.  That situation took a turn for the worst when we realized how far we truly had come into the winged beasts' territory.

Anyway, this second expedition proved most refreshing.  We slipped out the front door, unheard, into the darkness of the waning night.  Everything around us still slept, even the front porches of the houses we past gave us on heed.  The air seemed almost to crystallize over our skins as we moved quietly past bog and fen, causing our skin to dimple in the first tracings of Autumn.  Ancient willow trees dipped long tendrils of silver green leaves, drinking in dew from golden blades of grass.  All was still and silent, even our soft conversations of family and children clung to us.  Our path wandered amiably before us, horses on one side roadway on the other.  In the distance, to the East, rose the mountains, a purple shadow, slowly awakening in morning's first rays.
Even an apparent gathering of bird hunting enthusiasts seemed muted in the silence of the morning.  Our thoughts and language were reflective in nature, turning to the past, thinking about the future.  Uprooting ourselves into a new environment can do this to the mind and body.  I find it slowly exhilarating.

I believe my fearless companion and I had stumbled across an extended moment in time.  Unbeknownst to her, time seemed to stand still, making the very particles of oxygen consider their trajectory as they passed one another.  The skin of my palm melded with the palm of hers, becoming one living, feeling and breathing organism.  Our very vessel was not two ships passing in the night, but one, leading through the cessation of our world.

The sky became that indistinct color, indefinably blue-yellow, but not green.  The mountains again turned a deep velvety purple, majestically fortifying the rising sun.  I was completely lost in the sensation of living.

And before I knew it, that moment found its cusp.  Threads pulled, bells and whistles sounded, the refreshment of thought drained its last drops.  And now I find myself, already in the last hour of this day, wishing that moment could have existed just a little longer.

Journal of a Stay-at-Home Husband

I thought it was about time I posted something, I mean, it is my prerogative as being a new Stay-at-Home Husband.  Its been three weeks since I quit my job.  I still feel great about the decision to focus all of my time at being the best student I can be.  And my grades will concur.  Just ask the new shiny 'A' I'll be getting in my Statistics class!  (I've never been one to get that kind of scoring in a math class). (I just reread that line and laughed.)

Anyway, now-a-days I spend my time doing my homework assignments from my tiny laptop on the kitchen table. Taking breaks now and then to fold laundry, clean dirty dishes, blast rock and roll when no one is around, and make the bed.  I've got it down to a science, the lady upstairs always leaves before anyone else, then like clockwork the people next door leave, and viola!  I'm alone ready to scrub dishes along with U2, Tears for Fears, Talking Heads and Coldplay!  (I know I know, your all shaking your heads at the shear AWESOMENESS of it all.)

On the flips side, being a Stay-at-Home Husband does have its awkward moments.  Like the other day, out and about walking around doing some errands, I run into a regular from my former job. I know already know how the conversation will go in my head:

Former regular giving me the once over: "Hey!  I haven't seen you in a while, do you work here now?"
Me: Actually I don't, I decided to go full time with my schooling.
Former Regular waiting to be impressed: Sounds like a good thing.
 Me going in for the impressive strike: Yes sir, I'll graduate early and build up my application for Graduate school.
Former Regular: More power to you!  That's pretty impressive and completely worth your time and effort, you should get a gold star.
Me: Well that's what I'm going for.

WHAT REALLY HAPPENS:

Former regular giving me the once over: "Hey, I haven't seen you for a while, do you work here now?"
Me: "Nope, I actually quit."
Former regular, waiting for impressive remark: Really?  Where do you work now?
Me: I don't. . . .I'm being a student full time now.
Former regular clearly not impressed: That's. . .good.  Do you have another job lined up?
Me realizing I didn't do my hair or shave today, probably look a little homeless: "Nope. Just school."
Former regular, giving me one of those "what are you nuts?" look.

A w k w a r d  .  .  .  S i l e n c e

Former regular looking for avenue escape: We'll that's good you are able to do that.
Me, waiting for a bus to fall from the sky: Yeah, it is!  We'll I've got to run.
Former regular: It was good to see you again.
Me: You too.

Besides those awkward moments I really do enjoy being a full time student, and Stay-At-Home Husband. I love being able to focus all my time and energy on my schooling and really be passionate about what I'm learning.  Its worth the sacrifice to my ego. I also appreciate my wife so much more than I did before.  While she works tirelessly at her job, balancing six year olds, going to school herself and providing for the two of us, I am in awe at all she can do. And I'm building appreciation for when she gets to leave her job and become a full time mother.  I'll know a fraction of what she will be going through and that much more eager to help.

I've still got it. . .a bit.

As my Sunday came to a close, I couldn't help but wonder if a certain ability of my past still existed.  I pondered the thought, which has been bouncing around in my head for a while.  I confess, proudly, I am a Trekkie, not just that, but a full blown Sci-Fi freak.  Yes it's true, and I have been reminiscing among old and quite cheesy Star Trek movies (as my wife would attest) this weekend.  And it has been amazing watching how bad the graphics were, but how awesome the stories and legends are.
From an earlier post, I let the world know that I am an amateur sculptor.  Having taught myself since the age of six, and until recently had now professional instruction.  I use to spend hours on end, creating ships, cities, creatures and whole universes, just waiting to be stepped on by my parents and siblings.  I sculpted so much, my mother made it a rule that every time I was to come up stairs my hands were to be washed, and my pockets to be turned out.  I was, and still am addicted.

So here tonight, when I should be asleep, I show to you all, I still have it . . .a bit.

To those who need an introduction, the first four are the U.S.S Enterprise E, D, B and original.
To those who don't, I hope you can recognize them.

 Each one is very basic, and to anywhere from ten minutes to 25 minutes

 Don't mind the giant hand floating in "space".

And because I could hear my mother telling me to, "branch out" after every sculpture,  I'll prove to her I have.

I can't wait for my next: Midnight Sculpting Experience!