A beauty so high.

Stoneworth didn’t give a fig about life. As far as he was concerned it could end in a breath and that would be just fine with him. He had lived long enough and life was a bunch of bull. Every step he took he stepped in a big pile of a reminder of it.

“Mr. Stoneworth, may I have your autograph, please,” said the young girl.

Stoneworth looked at the book and pen offered. Gritting his teeth he put on his best fake grin and signed one of his somehow formulaic but popular mysteries. If he thought it all was crap then why did he care if the girl was happy or not? Perhaps he didn’t want it to be all bad, maybe he wanted a sign of something good. Or maybe he wanted to pay bills until the crap buried him.

He left the tip on the table and then the cafe behind. His burger was not even half eaten. It was not a normal bull day.

It was worse. It was like rodeo week and he was the head scooper.

He should have stayed home and eaten the frozen Chinese dinner. It would match the frozen ears he had from the early winter wind. His work was now going to suck the rest of the day and night and he was going to be hungry. Any flow of plot he had was gone. And he had a deadline. Ten days or death would be knocking at his door. Either death or his agent. They looked about the same.

His apartment smelled like burnt hot chocolate, not coffee. He had tried the stuff but couldn’t drink it until it had enough milk, sugar and chocolate syrup in it to taste like hot chocolate. Why waste the time and the money? Just cut out the middle men.

He looked at the wall thermostat and the screwed on lock box. Freaking landlord. 65 degrees. He left his coat on and turned the small electric heater on. He let it oscillate just to have some noise in the place.

Even though he knew his purpose of the day was ruined he sat down at the laptop anyway. The 1 appeared at the top of one tab of the many opened in his browser for research on ancient Central American civilizations. His thoughts improved with hope.

He had mail. The list of songs were long and not quite his usual fare but he listened. She had sent them. He didn’t listen to much music. It caused headaches. But from her, the headaches didn’t happen. They inspired him.

My beauty has given a gift to me

One I don’t often have time to take

It could not be more sweet and dear

Unless the music her own fingers did make

How is one so beautiful

How is she in my life

If by chance life did change

“Stoneworth!”

He looked up at the ghastly form approaching. He stared through it. Why would it not leave him be? The ghost of a past that was no longer his. All he wanted was the now, the reality of what is.

He did not need what was the never was. He closed his eyes and pressed his hands together until his fingers turned white. The music started again in his ears.

“Worthless! Invalid!”

Stoneworth moved his hands to his ears and pressed hard. Forcing the music in. Driving the hate away.

The pain seared through his brain and down his spine. Cackling laughter reached his now unprotected ears. He slowly sank to the floor unable to control his movements. His body arched as spasms began.

Laughter.

Music.

Laughter.

He shut his eyes tight. Focus on her eyes, those brown eyes, focus. The cackling continued. The pain continued. But suddenly he did not care. He felt warmth touch his skin. A smile crossed his face. It didn’t matter. There was a light he could see now for the first time. And music. He was climbing higher and higher. His dream was there, higher than he had ever been before. A beauty like he would never witness again.

**

“What happened?”

“I don’t know officer. I came in when he missed his deadline for a book he was writing and found him.”

“Did you turn that heater on?”

“No officer. It was already going. I moved it away from his face though. It was really close.”

“Well, it looks like a heart attack.”

“He always said that’s how he would go.”

“Well, this looks like another case he solved before he ever got a chance to write it.”

stoneworth

Ronovan

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Humble before a Fall-A Poem

Be humble in your ways every day
Boasting and bragging are arrogance
You may not know the path you take
But pride in ways has no relevance

Do what you do with a knowledge of grace
For you were given talents before you were born
Their recognition and nurturing up
Are rarities in this world where a crown is made of thorn

Continue in this way and your life will reveal
You are more than even you can believe
As you throw off those stresses and pressures
And hold onto that which will relieve

Be humble my friends
Be thankful for your gift
For as sure as you become arrogant
You and they will be broken by a rift

I was prideful in my former years. I made note of what happened in my life. I made a prideful statement and not long after, my world turned upside down. No, I do not think a punishment was sent down to give me a lesson. What I do think happens is in our pride and arrogance perhaps we do foolish things that bring about the humbling of us. I advise all today not to wait for those humbling moments, humble yourself now.

 

Much Respect

Ronovan

Ron_LWI

 

 

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2014 © Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com

He said she said….

Nishi is really expanding on her writing and blogging style. That ‘My Best Friend’ about broke my heart, and now she nails the man woman relationship in the technological age.
You have to check it out and let her know how great she’s doing. 🙂 Although I don’t need any further writing competition around here. Never mind!

The Showcase

ncEEbbacA.jpeg (500×359)

“Hey, what are you doing?” he asked

“Cooking” she said

“Are you watching that show on your iPad?”

“Hmm.. yes” she said

“Why cant you just do one thing at a time?”

“Because I CAN do both” she said

“Whatever” he said dismissively

“What are you doing?” she asked

“Working” he said

“And your headphones?”she asked

“What about them?

“They’re in your ear”

“Im listening to music” he said

“Let me see… and Facebooks open..”she said peering into the laptop screen

“Yea, so?”

“I rest my case”

Word of Warning: Never text and drive.

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