Starting Over

Of the unnatural kind — As she settles back into her seat I struggle to regain my breath while preventing the missile launch sequence. I am only partially successful at the latter. “I like watching you squirm,” Jaclyn announces. I start the car and drive, hoping I can refocus my attention and blood flow. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay at my apartment tonight?” “Jaclyn as you pointed out, we have a mystery to solve and if I stay I hardly feel discovery will have any relevance to Marcela or her demise.”

Of the unnatural kind — I am befuddled as to how someone with such a slender body can consume a piece of double chocolate cake with cream fudge frosting, sliced for two. The Marlowe hits the spot and watching Jaclyn warms me. We both enjoy a level of contentment as we leave. Reaching her car Jaclyn turns to me. “Ken, what do you think of me?” “Isn’t that a loaded question, right up there with do these pants make my butt look big?”

Of the unnatural kind — “That was deli-sh,” Jaclyn has the cat swallows the canary expression, as she eases back in her chair. “Better?” “Almost, chocolate and Marlowe should seal the deal,” she says matter of factly. I feel a smile wisp across my face. “Care to share?” “I love a woman who knows what she wants.” “Careful cowboy, you don’t want to start something you can’t finish.” “Be fair.” “Just saying.”

And why being part of a community has been the best decision I’ve made. — The first time I wrote online was sometime in 2008, on Facebook. I didn’t know what I was doing or what would become of my efforts to share my thoughts and stories. Like a child with nothing to lose, I just did it. No overthinking. It was great. …

Samuel has a burning desire to show himself and others he can change for the better — By Samuel Allen I’m here in cell 210 in FCI Cumberland (Maryland), not a good place to be. I am around a lot of different people from all over the world and all walks of life. I talk to guys who are never going to see the streets again. I…

Of the unnatural kind — “Like what Ken, maybe I can help.” “Full name, service number, the branch of service, conflict(s) served in, date and place of birth, and date of death if he or she is deceased.” “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” “Agreed, hey did Marcela keep any photos at your place?” “OMG, I’m an idiot, yes she has a box of them.” “How’s that steak?” “Great, want a taste?” “Pass” The pooling red juice on her plate looks anything but inviting to me. Jaclyn has the look of a wild mustang, eyes glazing at me.

Starting all over again — Gather the tatters torn from fabrics of dreams shattered, like that one — that’s the one your father wanted you to pursue but you turned and walked further, went the other way; leaving aspirations and dreams behind, the latter ever-changing, couldn’t even be bothered to settle for one, the chatter too loud to ignore, the ladder too tall to climb, rather worried about you, impatient, wanting to reach your destiny faster, rash decisions, lucking out constantly, probably because your grandmother is ever praying for you, you ought to thank her someday.