5.14.12

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Week of May 14:  Click here to READ THIS WEEK'S SELECTIONS or click Photo 5, I know you, and General Writing to read all recent submissions. To view or download the pages below as pdf files, click the newspaper's name in the attachments below. See the Weekly Photo gallery.

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The collage of dirt and leaves is cold. My skin crawls as I watch ants pile into what is their version of a hill. The silver key is slick in my muddy hands. I lean back into the brush, breathing deeply. My wings are crimpled, and I know now that they are never going to work again. I twist around, trying to rip them off but they stay put anyway. My legs are sore from walking so long; my feet are blistered and red. My dress that used to be white is now an ugly gray. I look up at the black sky as small pellets of rain start to fall onto the crisp leaves of this dark California forest. I’ve been here before, many times. I’ve gotten this far, maybe even farther. I know I have to keep walking, but for some reason, my brain can’t seem to tell my feet to push my body up and walk towards what I have to unlock. The house is about five miles away: I’m so close. It’s like the races I used to run in school (back when I was normal) when I could see the finish line, it was right there, but I couldn’t bring myself to run any farther, any faster, but just stay frozen in the same place; that’s what it’s been like for the last few years. Read more »

Walking down this trail I realize, I haven't been here before. Startled as I come across a deep, dark ditch, I see a girl with bruised feet and a purple dress laying in the mud. A bright shiny key in her dirty hands, the way out is in her hands, she just doesn't know yet.

Opening her hand, the key gleamed in the moon light. The leaves squished under Elizabeth's bruised feet as she attempted to stand, thinking of the energy needed to go forward. She was motivated to take those last few steps to the door; "click." The door silently swung open and for the first time Elizabeth saw the other side...

Deep in my heart I know we met before

An unshakable feeling deep in my core

What must I learn from this brief encounter

You look so familiar and your voice serene

Waiting in line to use this vending machine

My heart pounding harder than a geiger counter

So, why do I know you from another time?

Every essense of you, so familiar and sublime

What must I not forget with this encounter

Memory loss is not a victimless crime

You're my sweet baby girl lost in life's dim grime

I wouldn't have seen you, had I gone to the deli counter

One day I was walking down the street and I saw this man that looked really familiar. I walked up to him and said, “Hey dude, don’t I know you? Were you at the fishing derby last year?”
“Nope, you must have seen my twin.”
“How about the bow shoot?”
“Nope, that was probably my Uncle Buck because we look just alike.”
“Hmmmm. What about that wrestling tournament I had last week?”
“Uhhh, nope.”
“Okay, I’m sure I saw you at the corn dog eating contest.”
“Nope, that would be my cousin Earl.”
“How about the tractor pulls at the state fair?”
“Nope, that was my mom. She didn’t shave yet.”
“I know I saw you at the gun show in Hockchaw.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Was it at the Clampet’s wedding?”
“Nah, I wasn’t there.”
“Wait a minute! I saw you in the bait and tackle section in Wal-Mart.”
“Nope. I’ll tell you. You saw me at the town library.
“Ohhh, that’s right. I don’t go there.”

You look, You stare. The world stops for the quickest moment. That smile, Those eyes, That face. You've seen it before. But where? Was in a dream? A past life? In reality? You want to know, You tongue itches as you try and spit out their name. You know them. But you really don't know them. You know that face. That familiar face. You walk on by, An image still stuck in your head. That face. You know that face.

At 11:39,
I wiggle myself outside,
I feel something on my foot,
Like metal,
It’s a key!
This key,
Can be my opening,
To the world.
But what?
But what does it fit into?
Even though I have,
A broken leg,
My chance,
Is now.
I must,
Make my move,
Or I’ll be,
Stuck.
Stuck in this horrible place,
Forever.
This horrible orphanage.

I clutch the key as I
sprint through the woods.  It’s ominous
weight is pulled to the
focal point of my brain as my feet
dash naked over damp leaves,
and my fists pump
back and forth with
the rhythm of my heart.
I hear voices behind me, husky with drink.
A dog's bark cuts through the heavy silence of
the Forest.  They have my scent, and one of the more intoxicated men lets out
a war cry, the noise distorted by the hundred or so trees
that separate him and I.
The moon lights my path and I push my legs; hold on, I tell them,
we’re almost there.  My breath comes in gasps, and sweat pours down my back.
The branches grab at the remnants of my dress.
The last clinging bits of blue silk tear and fall to the floor.
Faster, faster, almost there.
I see it.  A stand of trees, birches, their white in stark contrast
with the night air.  They call to me, usher me, give me a final burst of will and strength to reach
them.
I collapse in a heap, encircled by twelve gleaming trunks.
I can’t breathe, I can’t see, I can’t hear, I can’t feel.
The last piece of my party dress,
the blue tulle that held up the skirt, is layered over my knees. 
It must be uncomfortable, but I can't focus enough of my energy to be sure.
The leaves are cool against my skin, my clothes all torn away by
grabbing branches.
The men are nearing.
I remember why I came here; what this was all for; what my life is worth.
The key is still in my hand.
I open my eyes.  The stars twinkle brightly down at me, and the moon is a perfect half disk.
With the last of my strength I sit up and open my hand.
Read more »

I know you,

my friend.

I, who have galloped through blueberry fields with you,

pelting

- and being pelted by -

the bursting blue bombs.

I cannot say where we met,

but does it really matter?

Life, after all,

is not about the beginning,

but what comes afterwards.

Afterwards, my friend,

you and I truly were one.

Two children,

a ghostly girl and a bombastic boy,

play fighting in the woods,

surrounded by the welcoming laughter

that they created.

The blueberry field, my friend,

was nowhere near the beginning,

but instead,

on its way to the end.

We drifted eventually,

like children often do.

But I assure you, we had a connection

- two souls destined to meet and resolve

a previous lifetime.

And then,

we split.

Three years;

that was all we had.

But I remember those times as if they were yesterday.

Time is a funny thing,

skipping in leaps and bounds

before slowing to a snail's crawl.

I swear,

that it was yesterday that I last saw you.

But no.

You slipped away from me, and I you,

and we went our separate ways.

We were done,

all karma resolved with each other.

And while I know that it is time to move on,

I still wonder, from time to time:

How are you?

I came upon

The key to love,

The key to happiness,

The key to a new world,

But most of all I discovered the key to the land of enchantment.

The door slowly opens and the world swallows me,

The beauty, the happiness -

It is as if all grief is gone.

The peach blossoms look like little hearts of fairies that flutter around the garden.

The gentle pinks, bluebells, tulips, lilies, snowdrops, irises, daffodils, daisies and

Many other flowers come alive with the breath of fairies and warmth of the sun.

The key is magic. 

It brought a whole new world I never thought I would see,

Only in my dreams.

Fairies are still in the enchanted garden.

The key could be anywhere.

Whether it is in the ground or hanging on a blossoming peach tree,

Soon you will discover this amazing world.

     When I first met you, Vanessa Greg, I noticed the wavy blonde hair pulled up in a pony tail that bounced side to side while you followed me round at Joni's School of Dance. At the age of six your smile struck me as a "I want to know you" smile that lit up my face.  Your blue eyes stared as you watched the movements of dance, as you tried your best.

     A few months later, as I walk my first steps into Ms. Phalen's Kindergarten class at the age of six, I see you at the lego table with a smile of joy.  "I know you, I say so sure."  As you turn around to greet me you take my hand, and you ask if I want to be your firend.  As I agree, we make a friendship that turned into more than a friendship.

Do I know you?

Have I seen you before?

You seemed familiar...

Are you the lunch lady?

Are you Justin Bieber?

Are you my ex-boyfriend from the past?

Wait, wait...

I know who you are!

You’re one of the cute guys from One direction!

Right?

Nah.. Never mind.. you’re not him...

But I know who you are! Read more »

She grasps onto innocent memories;
Warmer days
Sunnier thoughts
Happier times.

Years ago, seemingly forever
Barefoot in fields of wildflowers
Dress up costumes with her sister
Hair whipping in the wind on a swing.

The key is the only piece left of her childhood
Belonging to a dress up trunk
Filled with dramatic costumes
That burned in a house fire.

The purple cloth was Cinderella’s dress;
Her favorite character
Who was rewarded with a happy ending
But fairytales are all a lie.

Grown up now she knows much more
Responsibility is a weight she bares
Dreams broken by reality
Dampening her happy mood.

Tears fall unnoticed in the rain
Soaking her in guilt
Washing away innocence
Drowning her in sorrow.

How one fire could take everything;
Childhood memories
And her whole life
Angers her beyond words.

She lies on the ground without a home
The only bed made of cold leaves
So confused and lifeless
She lets herself go.

Memories flood her mind
Of happier times and reachable goals
But the here and now
Forces her out of this impossible dream.

The key and cloth is all that’s left
The only possession she has
A last resort of hope
Yet both worthless items. Read more »

so she sat down on the forest floor and

wept.

something had always been just slightly

  off-kilter about the way she

half-smiled, but this was nothing to

smirk at.

the key had little to no meaning in her mind--

just another

           object, another

                                  ending.

she didn't much care for the dress, either.

just a little bit too

delicate,     

    [delicacy was never her strong suit]

too

fairy-princess-save-me-beautiful

         [beauty wasn't really meant for her].

so she sat on the forest floor and

wept, because she needed

       one

             stereotype to conform to and

at least she could appear

            lost

                    artistic Read more »

I found a key

in the woods.

Upon it were a few words,

I am the key to life

At that, I was puzzled

How could that be the key?

Years passed.

I forgot about the key

I grew to love a man

who asked to marry me

And on the night before our wedding

I went to greet the full moon.

In the woods, I found the key.

On it were the words,

Love is the key to life.

I know you…
I’m writing a poem,
From me to you,
If you want to know how much I care,
Here is a clue:
Your eyes catch mine all the time,
Looking to find,
I cannot define.
Your hair makes me smile,
Your laugh alone makes living worthwhile.
Your hands are perfect entwined with mine,
But I never seem to have the time to find them,
Against my cold ones,
To keep you for my own.

Outside, the sun is raining tears,

So here I lay, hiding;

In the abyss, discoveries stay, 

Yet here I wait, dying.

From our childhood, the stories play,

Enchanted forests, knights in armor ride,

So here I lay, hiding secrets,

In my world filled with possibilities.

Out of this universe, life grows,

Times machines, world peace lives on,

Yet here I wait, dying slowly,

In this place full of unanswered questions. 

But here on Earth, in this diseased planet,

Covered in filth, battles, lies, secrets and deceit,

Is a precious key, hidden in plain sight, 

Guarded by the purest of heart.

I know you!

When I wake up with a headache

I know

I dreamed of you last night...

The little boy always running

Running

Running

Away

And I am always following

Following

Following

You.

I am trying to keep up.

In the darkness

All alone

Just the two of us.

But you are always running

Running

Running

Away

And I am always following

Following

Following

You.

Why can't I remember what you looked like?

Do you still remember me?

Am I in your dreams?

A little girl running

Running

Running

Away

And you are the one following

Following

Following

Me?

Do you miss me?

I miss you.

Did we promise

We'd keep in touch?

Or was that

Just another

Petty dream?

Where you are

The little boy always running

Running

Running

Away

And I am always following

Following

Following

You.

I know

I dreamed of you last night...

All alone

Just the two of us.

Do you still remember me?

Am I in your dreams?

Do you miss me?

I miss you.

The silver key that rested in her hand,
without a lock to fit into.
Was it part of a grand house,
that was destroyed long ago,
consumed by fire,
war,
age?
Does it even have a lock
or is it just a manifestation of dream?
Could it possibly be the key to unlock her nightmares
and free her from their hold.

Because here,
in this desolate forest
where the black trees reach into the sky
and their dead leaves tumble down to form a crisp blanket.
In this forest where the mist obscures everything
isolating the girl.
That is what scares her,
not knowing what is out there,
what could be coming for her.
She is waiting for something,
but what she doesn't know.

Every night,
trapped
in the same dark place
and yet tonight it is different.
The key,
the cool firmness of silver resting in her palm.
And the fact that,
this time she might discover
what she is waiting for.

The man took pity on the young girl who sat at his feet in her torn white dress. Her tears were quiet and she hung her head, ashamed of who she was. The man stood there, not knowing exactly what to say or do to help the young girl. He barely knew who she was, let alone her name. Slowly, the girl looked up at the man and stared back into his eyes. He was at a loss for words. Such a young girl and she was in the middle of nowhere. You could see the tangles in her blonde hair, but they looked natural because of the wild curls that went along with them. The man slowly bent down and stared straight at her.

"Where do you belong?" The man stared at her, slowly putting his hands on his knees. He said the words quietly and softly so he wouldn't frighten the girl. She quickly looked away and stared into the woods. She thought about how she ended up here, and if she did belong here. She knew she didn't belong where she used to live. She winced at the painful memories which rushed into her head. She looked at the man. "Nowhere."

The man stared at her, then pulled out a key. He took her hand and placed the key in it. "Somewhere, not nowhere. Everyone belongs somewhere." He slowly got up and walked off. The girl stared at the key, mesmorized by it. "Somewhere," she said softly. "Somewhere."

The world is locked
Away from me
They aren’t here
To give me the key
I am enclosed
Alone in the wood
One of the survivors
In the neighborhood

But then I felt
The key in my palm
I shivered with fear-
Then I was calm
For now I knew
The world was unlatched
The hole in my heart
Would soon be patched

I knew him.

I could feel it.

I knew who he was.

We connected

in such a way

That some might even say

That it was destiny,

But then again

Some might say that destiny

Isn’t the path that life gives us

But the path that we choose.

And if we choose right

then we’ll never be wrong.

It’s like we had met,

In another life than this

Somewhere other than this world

Like someother neworld.

We walked upon the gravel

Under those fair lights

They shined like the moon

Dazzled like the bright stars.

That night I met you,

It felt like a different world

Like we had once walked upon

a scrapy dirt path

Under the full moon and lit stars

I curtsied and waved

He bowed and smiled

We were in the market place

Where my father could not see.

We walked closer

and closer

and soon

we were just another.

But we knew each other.

We had met before.

But then I heard my name

Someone yelled

and I glanced

I lost sight of him then.

It was my friend Read more »

As I lay down on the cold and wet ground,

key in hand, I remember my mom

I remember her laughs that could soothe any human being

Her hands that always held mine tight

Her voice like a ribbon, a red silk ribbon

tying itself in bows all up my body

But mostly, I remember this key

this key that opened her secret garden

that was filled with color

I get up to open the fence

the fence that is dusted with dirt

that is covered with vines

and has a rusty lock

I put the key in

and twist

The lock falls off

Now all I have to remember her

is this rugged old fence

and her key

That once unlocked

her secret garden

"I know you," I stammer. My brain is fuzzy from loss of memory.

The crash from two months ago isn't helping me at all. I was driving from Vermont to Quebec. It was a slick ice covered road. I was driving ten miles under the speed limit being cautious because of the road condition. I saw a boy with blonde hair sticking on end. His sea green eyes staring frantically at the ground. He stood in the middle of the road unafraid of the impact that was about to happen. I slammed on the break. Swerving to not hit this boy. That was my first mistake. The ice spun my car around. I started to freak out and accidentally hit the gas instead of the breaks. The car lurched forward to 30 miles per hour. The car smashed into the tree. I heard a snap and pain immediately flowed everywhere. I was ready to pass out.

I saw him again, The boy. I was looking up into his eyes. His arms wrapped around me carrying me some place safe.I tried to move my arm and screamed with the pain that shot through my arm. I passed out for good.

The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed. My parents bringing me home not asking a single question.

But now you are here in my backyard.

"Why," I ask with so many questions running through my head.

"I need your help," he replies with a deep raspy voice. I am surprised by this sudden change of conversation. I am silent. "We need to hurry," he says grabbing my arm. The one with the scar from shoulder to forearm on it. I pull away.

"Sorry," he blurts out.

"I don't even know your name. Why would I go with you. You could murder me or something crazy," I go on. Read more »

The Key

There was nothing else she wanted more in the world than to be loved; loved for who she was. She knew she could never be loved for who she was. Because she was...well, as she claims the word, "ugly". But that had nothing to do with why she could never be loved. For she didn't know that when she was born, an evil witch had put a spell on her, making it so she could never be loved by anyone other than her family. She, in truth, was a very elegant, beautiful, and fair girl. The witch who cast the spell upon her, made it so that to everyone who saw her, they only saw her as an ugly, unlovable girl. The witch had cast the spell because she knew that the girl would grow up to be the fairest in the land, and the witch herself was quite horrid. Read more »