The Several Fails in the Tales of Lucy Gale pt. 5

Hot steam rises.
My skin ripens
brightens
except the lines that never healed,
lines too geometric
too designed to deny.

No longer that girl
I am now Lucy!
And yet, with a sneer,
her perverted tattoos
still stain my veneer.

Why can't my skin
hide the sin
which departs
from my heart?
With the inside clean
how can the out beam
darkness?

The Several Fails in the Tales of Lucy Gale pt. 4

Salt crusts the window, refracting the light,
(she'd never clean it, she hated the view)
breaking his promise and dimming her sight.
She left it dirty to hide hopes she knew.

They'd now been apart more than together.
Each hopeless dawn somehow brightened her day,
but fleeting light did not help her weather
and the cold, empty rooms were not okay.

As weeks turned to years it weakened her care,
but she missed the mornings with steaming tea.
So some part endured and she kept her stare
through troubled tides and the mountainous sea.

Inside and out it is crusted with salt
from the waves and the tears which never halt.

The Several Fails in the Tales of Lucy Gale pt. 3

Every day, young miss Gale would take a walk amongst her fair city. No one else knew why she called the city fair, most people were scared by the town's reputation and some even cringed at the name, but she loved it there. Every night the rivers brought a breeze through town so even though it was exhaustively hot during the summer days, you could always throw open your windows at night and enjoy the cool moisture. It was an old place too so every few blocks you had a change of scenery. Every building was unique and every street seemed to have a different style, a different purpose. Even today, as she walks or feels a particularly pleasant rush of air, she thinks back on this home often.

On one particular day Lucy had the lovely chance to go walking for a couple hours before lunch. Her time was almost spent though and she was heading home. Lucy loved walking with a companion and had one with her that day. Her companion was not having a good day and really wanted to get home for lunch so Lucy was doing her best to accommodate her friend by traveling swiftly. Except, Lucy had a wonderfully terrible (or maybe terribly wonderful) habit of talking to strangers on all these walks of hers and today was no different.

To get to her friends house they would have to travel over a small bridge. It traversed a small, man-made creek. During the night, with the darkness and local ruffians, it was a seemingly creepy place, but during the day it was peaceful. It was small, covered, and provided a nice view of the creek which often housed a heron and some fish.

The most important part of this tale happened right before the bridge on this particular day though. As Lucy companion was trying to hurry home, Lucy spotted a woman on the other side of the road and just instantly wanted to meet her. No rationale, she just thought it would be nice to talk. As she started to cross the street she started thinking about her friend who was very hungry and she hesitated. Then the road was filled with carriages. Then she worried if it would make the other woman uncomfortable. Then she made another excuse. Then another. Then...she was too far away to do anything but watch the next event.

It was not just a woman walking on the other side of the street. She was dragging a little girl (they bore a striking resemblance) and some luggage (which looked a little haphazard and hurriedly packed). Then the large man rode up alongside her in his carriage. He shot his head out the window and started screaming at her. Lucy could not really hear what was being said except, "Get in!" being yelled by the man. Lucy was stunned. Hundreds of what ifs flooded her mind. Even more were the questions about why. What if she had talked to this woman when she first felt she should. Why was she leaving her husband and taking her daughter. Why did he want them back. Would anything last. How long until the next fight. What could she have done for her. Would it have helped.

Then her companion turned around and got frustrated at her for slowing down. So, they hurried home and didn't talk to anyone else until after lunch.

The Several Fails in the Tales of Lucy Gale pt. 2

Lucy Gale was a merry ol' soul and a merry ol' soul was she. She was taken by the hand of a sickly old man, whom, with she, tried a real man to be. With a quickie outside and a rather fast drive, she was left unsatisfied by he.

His words had tempted her with fruits of knowledge and fruit of another kind. He had perverted her body with a snake and with fantasies her mind. She now had knowledge of good and evil, but knowing lust and slut are anagrams only gets you so far. She had been forced passed her bar and down on her knees, but all her plees and nos came out as please and knows. She judged him by the fruits of his labor and her sins began to show. Her innocence did little to protect her as the only response he ultimately heard was "sure." In the end, she had consented, but that was the only option he ever presented. She had said no and he said experiment. She said "I can't" and he misunderstood what she meant.

It happened. It was fast and dirty, in the gravel and dog shit. It seemed so appropriate in hindsight. Her feet and hands were scarred where they touched him and the ground. Her side was blemished where he came. It seemed so appropriate in hindsight. He sneaked off into the night, she retreated to her home. It never seemed appropriate.

The Several Fails in the Tales of Lucy Gale pt. 1

(This was actually the first blog I wrote, but I didn't post it at the time for a myriad of reasons. Strangely enough, if I just posted it, it would appear as the first post of my site...I do not approve, because I want people to be able to read it or at least see that something is different. Anyway, I decided I will start writing about her, because I want to)

A Chance to Sail
Senior Prom! She had been told it was the second biggest night in a girl's life, only to be bested by her marriage night. She had been worried that no one wanted to go with her. Maybe she would be one of those gals who just goes because she didn't have anyone to go with, but all her friends wanted to go. She'd take pictures. Tell them she had a great time. Laugh and giggle. Make sure they were all happy. But she had a date. He was nice, very cute, intelligent, talented, and seemed like he might actually like her. She was so excited. Not so much for Prom, but because of having a date with this wonderful guy.

The day came and they went on their date. It was with a group of friends, mostly her friends, at a nearby lake. A couple of the guys in the group owned some canoes and ocean kayaks, so they were able to go out and paddle around the lake. It was a blast. Just rowing and talking. No worries or hassles, just some quiet time to burn at a lake. It was peaceful. They told jokes and laughed. A wonderful day to spend with a wonderful guy.

They got home, changed, went to dinner, and then went to Prom. It was loud. And there was bad music. She got one slow dance with him the whole night. It wasn't that he didn't ask her, there was only a couple slow songs at all. She wanted a chance to impress him. A chance to be close to him. Not some silly party with football players stripping down throughout the night. A disappointing dance with a wonderful guy.

It came time to say goodbye. Now she had kissed a few people before, but she wasn't sure what experience he had had, but she really did want to kiss him. Just a kiss. It was Prom after all. She knew what other kids would be doing. She also knew that he might not want a kiss. She was okay with that. She had a great time and enjoyed his company immensely. She didn't need a kiss to make the day any better, but that didn't mean she didn't want it. The final moment on the doorstep came, she knew she needed to make her move now if it was going to happen. She froze. She thought, "we're friends. I don't want to trade that for a kiss that might offend him...c'est la vie." And they parted. She still wishes she'd have taken that kiss from some guy.