Return to the Blank Page

Stark white pages abound! In desks, in printer trays, nary a single word to mark them. Each is lifted, stared at, then returned to their place. A single typewriter sits upon the desk, a page slipped in and marginalized. But not a single drop of ink stains the page it holds.

An old man shifts through the various stacks of papers. He sighs, massaging his head with one hand as he looks at each page. He cannot organize them. Then finally, a single dusty sheet is pulled out of the mass of stacks, the first and only page with so much as a letter typed onto it. He stares at it for a time, then sets it beside the typewriter. His thoughts linger on the page as he removes the blank sheet from the typewriter, then slips his treasure within. He turns the knob on the side and returns to his chair.

He stares at each line, few as they are, before he begins to type away. He sneezes as dust is stirred from within the old keyboard, but continues to add words to the only page that isn’t blank in his whole office. He types away, and then when he is satisfied, he begins to read.

My name is Barnabus McGregor. I’m nearing the end of my life, I know, and here is my what I remember of my life.

I have lived and loved, had a family who have come and some who have gone. But names and faces fail me now. Have I eaten today? What am I even typing.

He continues to stare at those simple sentences. He feels, deep down, a sense of pride that he had finally typed, and closes his eyes. A few hours later, a knock could be heard at the door. When the call was unanswered, the door came open, and a young child, nearing the age of ten, stepped into the room. Her expression a mix of worry and wonder, for she never before had entered the room. She woke her great grandfather up from his dreamless sleep, and tell him it is time for supper.

He stands, and slowly shuffles out of the room. But she lingered, and her eyes caught sight of that single page that still hung in the typewriter. She made a mental note to return to the room once supper was done and set out.

When she returned, late in the dusk of night, holding a single flashlight in her hands, she began to give the room a further look. Each page she picked up was filled with story after story. She organized it as she went, his youth in one pile, his adult life in another. She learned of family long past, of distant relatives and even more. His life must have been amazing, she thought, as she continued to read well into the early hours of morning. Then she returned to the typewriter.

She pulled the one sheet from it, setting it aside and placing the only blank sheet left out of the whole office in its place. She typed a couple sentences in, hit return, and read it aloud to herself.

This is the story of my great grandfather, in his own words. I just worry that he has lost so much of his mind that he is unable to see the stacks upon stacks of pages filled with his story around him once he steps foot in his office.

I love you, great grandfather.

Alisha Dorothy McGregor.

(Image Source Pinterest)

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Returning Home

Its almost midnight. I’ve been in Florida since Friday, and here it is almost Tuesday. I have had some fun throughout the weekend but this was a company conference so there was plenty of meetings to be a part of.

Of all the things going through my mind, one thought stands above all; I’m ready to go home. And by that i mean all aspects of home. Work, and seeing how things have gone in my absence. Home, to see my boys and my loving wife whom all I have missed these last few days. But also to take what I have seen and learned and to apply it.

All that said, I hope that my flight home is uneventful and easy. I also hope that once I am home, I can get back into my writings and go from there. I hope everyone is having a fantastic week!

Saturday Update

Latest on “Waking Dream”

Chapter 2 is now available on Wattpad! For those who like to read, subscribe and vote, here is your link:
Link stuff for peoples
In other news, have been making further progress in the story of David. Some of this stuff twists in interesting yet definitive ways, searching for meaning, guessing towards the afterlife, among other subtle themes included in the story. I don’t have the word count on hand, but 22 chapters have been (mostly) finished with a goal of thrice that number. Need to get back into actually writing more, but life be tough currently and I just need to stop letting me get distracted!

Happy drafting!

Reblog: Je t’aime by BlackCherries

It’s been a long time since I have seen this author post, but she is one astounding author. Her ability to write is inspiring, and so I wanted to take a moment to share her work with you all.

-Richard

 

some nights i can’t seem to fall asleep i lie there like a super computer computing a thousand and one thoughts i think about you, about us i think about the essay i’ve to finish i thin…

Source: Je t’aime

Lost in Love?

Love, a wonderful battlefield.
Worrying, wondering and wandering
Lost, in love and gone
Unsure, always under stress
Always waiting for an unsure end
Lost, in love
With someone who you can never tell
With a life that could be gone in instants
A wanderer walks this battlefield
Watching for the next attack, the next fight
Eventually, one day,
The battle will be over
Who won, who lost?
Neither, for we all die, lost in love.

Like a Spanish Love Song

Like a spanish love song,

You walked into my life like a slow melody

And passed me by like a crack in the record.

Then you turned my way as I softly sipped away

And I barely caught your shifting smile behind my glass.

A smile turned into courage,

A dance on the floor, then two.

And as the last notes played,

Like the fading into night,

We disappeared into the depths,

Of yet another love song

One we wrote ourselves

With our dances the beat,

And our kisses the melody.

Beauty

Finding it pleasing
The beauty in your eyes
The smile they reflect
The same as the skies

It is saddening,
When those eyes close,
For I can’t see within them,
For all heaven knows

I miss your beauty,
The scars on my heart
The world is so cruel,
Having torn us apart.

But one day I’ll see you,
And the beauty you retain
For when it is my time,
I’ll see you once again

Written for the A to Z 2016 Challenge.

Full details and list of posts for this challenge or any others is located here.

Honestly not sure about how I feel with this one. The last verse is bugging the hell out of me.