Decay, Swine, and Beauty

We are staying at an estate that is like a beautiful woman with tangled hair. Neglect is slowly wearing away at her, and you know that in ten years she will no longer be beautiful. But right now, her unkemptness makes her eyes seem wild, and she is ablaze with a vibrancy no clipped hedge ever had.

And there is a pig.

I'm hoping to have a little more time to write while we're here. The kids have attended one day of school this month thanks to the snow, and they had some fierce cabin fever. I've been inching along with my mystery, but I really want to get sidetracked and write a little office romance for kicks.

Short Story: Distraction

It was an office, not unlike any of the other offices around the city. There were windows, visible to the lucky few cubes on the ends of the rows. Then there was Vera's cube, situated next to the row of manager's offices. Today she was lucky, someone had left their door open and precious slant of sunlight escaped, warming her back and washing out half of her computer screen. "I never realized your hair was red," Tracy dumped a large stack of paper on her desk, "The florescent lights make everything look so soupy." "What is that?" she pointed at the stack of paper. Tracy only offered compliments when he wanted a favor. "I need this entered," he smiled, a dimple appearing in his cheek. "You have a secretary," Vera waved a freckled hand to her left, "Ask him." "He's sick," Tracy gave her puppy-dog eyes, batting his long dark eyelashes. Vera sighed and fought back a smile. Tracy was such a s...

Weirdest Hotel Ever

I am beside myself with glee. I really thought this weekend would be fun, but not that special sort of fun that makes me giggle like a child. There is an abandoned mall inside this hotel. This is not a drill. Let’s back up for a minute. I’m in Yakima at the Hilton Tapestry hotel, a place known for having Mason roots. There is a tour you can take, but it’s only on weekdays, and I have already spent a night in a Shriner clown room*, so I’m good. This hotel is labyrinthine. The outside is a confusion of empty storefronts showcasing local art and no admittance doorways. The garage is keycard access only. The porte cochere is more of circular drive, with one part of the circle blocked by potted plants and a grouping of roped off chairs. There is a patio with arched columns, gated with ornamental fencing, where an air conditioning unit is housed. Walking around the hotel gives a disorienting feeling of always head...

Short Story: Not So Pleasant

It was Saturday morning and I was pulling the calash across the main thoroughfare. The young master preferred the calash, it was fast and had a fold-away cover in case the rain stopped. He preferred me for much the same reason, I was responsive to the reigns and quick on slippery cobbles. “Oh the way Ginny maneuvers!” he would boast to the other young men, “I’d take her over any thoroughbred.” I feel much the same, for all a horse needs to be happy is a kind master. Anyhow, it was morning, and we were crossing the road with the clock tower. Horses, carriages, and carts were weaving this way and that and a policeman stood in the middle, playing a song on his whistle while he danced. A white stallion was coming towards us, pulling a brougham. If the color of him had not been enough to get my attention, his high action and rolling eyes would have. “Is that not Miss Eloise’s carriage?” my master twisted in his seat, “She must have got a new ho...

Refracted Neurons

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