Tag: Friends

Short Story

LIKE A KNIFE IN THE BACK

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

The prompt for
Stream of Consciousness Saturday
is to include the words “to me”.
This is my response.

Whenever there’s an upset in my life, I ask myself the same question: “How could this be happening to me again?”

Sometimes I wonder if I’m a total sap to give myself entirely to a friendship and at some point end up getting hurt. I don’t know …. maybe I’m delusional but I expect people to treat me the same as I treat them. Perhaps “expect” is too strong a word; after all, do I really have the right to expect people to behave a certain way just because I think they should?

Someone once told me my expectations are unrealistic and that I can’t “will” someone to act or react a certain way simply because I want them to. Perhaps he was right. I think about his words when I feel hurt or angry.

So, yes, I was hurt once again by a friend going behind my back and lying to me. This leaves me wondering if I bring this sort of behavior on myself or if I’m just unfortunate with some of the friendships I have made?

One thing I simply cannot tolerate is lying. I have a personal pact with myself never to tell lies. I know people lie all the time; is it too much to ask those near and dear not to lie to me?

Writing about this recent hurt is cleansing and I have decided I will put it behind me. What gives me some small amount of satisfaction is the fact that the person who lied to me knows that I know. This friend certainly went to a lot of trouble to cover all the tracks but they weren’t 100% successful. First of all, I am nobody’s fool and I catch on fast. Secondly, when you involve a third party into the plot, things can go horribly wrong very quickly. And last, my friend slipped up by making a comment online which I saw through immediately; as I said, I am nobody’s fool. The plotting and scheming behind my back compounded with the lie is particularly vicious; it was entirely intentional. You can’t get much lower than that.

Well, while I am going through this cleansing period, I am not above admitting that I hope the liar(s) are squirming and feeling guilty about stabbing me in the back. This was a grievous act on their part; could an admission and an apology be on the way?

NAR © 2023
#SoCS

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Dec. 9, 2023

This is “Positively 4th Street” by Dylan

Flash

SEETHING MAN

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Rochelle at Friday Fictioneers
has challenged us once again
with an intriguing photo prompt.
This is my response.

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The man stood off to the side, silently watching, seething.

They were neighbors, friends at one time …. brothers, a lifetime ago. When asked to go into business together, he turned his friend down saying it was a foolish venture, throwing good money after bad. He was afraid.

His friend was successful in his business and became wealthy beyond measure while his own life languished. Jealousy turned to self-pity which morphed into anger and hatred so deep and volatile, his head pounded at the sight of his once friend.

And look at her with that flashy red purse. Disgusting.

NAR © 2023
100 Words

24 November 2023

This is “My Brother’s Keeper” by Orphaned Land

Short Story

BALLS TO THE WALL

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

While reading the real estate section, my wife Jen called out to me. “Hey, Eric, check this out. You know that community we love? One of the houses is available, has everything we want plus a big yard and a pool. And get this – they’re asking only $275,000! That’s well within our budget!”  

“Seriously?  Those houses usually go for twice as much! Wonder why it’s so low.”  

“The agent’s number is right here” replied Jen. “Let’s call.”  

After a brief phone conversation, we agreed to meet at the house at noon. When we arrived, the real estate agent explained to us that the previous owners had moved back to England for work purposes and were anxious for a quick sale – even at a loss.

The community was lovely and families were outside enjoying the great weather. The house we had our eye on was even more beautiful than we imagined – not a thing wrong. We asked the agent to make arrangements for an inspector to check everything out and a few days later he reported the house to be in excellent condition. Any doubts were removed from our minds.  

“Well, babe”, I said, giving  Jen a hug, “looks like we just found our dream house!”  

Two weeks later we moved in and everyone was extremely welcoming. In fact, the guy next door came over the first night we were in the house to invite us to a barbecue that weekend. We knew we were going to love this place.

The barbecue was fun and gave us a chance to meet all our new neighbors. Later that night at home we talked about how nice everyone was; in particular, Jen was surprised by how helpful the men were – “Except for that one awkward scene when Barb got annoyed with Gil because his potato salad had too much mayo!” she laughed.

As time went by, we couldn’t help noticing that all the men were house-husbands while all the women went to work. How odd! One night Gil called to invite me to the weekly Friday night poker game at his house and Jen to a ladies book club night at Susan’s. 

The card game was going well and I was on a winning streak when out of the blue Gil asked “So, Eric, when are you gonna get your balls snipped?”

 Totally thrown off base, I gagged on my drink. “Excuse me??” I sputtered.

“You know. Snipped! We’re all snipped” Gil answered, making little scissor cutting gestures with his fingers. “Dr. Susan does it, smooth and easy. Our wives convinced us life would be much calmer that way and it is. Here’s her number.”  

Mumbling hasty excuses, I hurriedly left the game and dashed home, colliding with Jen running home from the other direction. 

“Do you know what they do here?!?” she asked, horrified. 

I nodded frantically. “And the only things getting cut are our losses! C’mon! We’re outta here!” 

NAR © 2023

I hope you’ll join me today
as I take you on a
new musical journey
In The Groove.
It’s gonna rock your world!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

Uncategorized

Nancy’s Fuhgeddaboudit Lasagna

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Since publishing my story Honeysuckle and Provolone, I have received a few requests for my lasagna recipe. I’m happy to share a great Italian dish which I’m sure will become a favorite of yours. I’ve been making lasagna for more than 50 years and I have a few tricks that will prevent major headaches for anyone who is making lasagna for the first time.

The most difficult part about preparing lasagna is handling the boiled pasta sheets; they can be delicate and I always suggest cooking them al dente as they will continue to cook while in the oven. I know some people who prefer to skip the boiling step altogether since the sheets will cook and soften up in the tomato sauce while baking.

Another option is to place the lasagna sheets in a pan, cover with boiling water and let them sit for 30 minutes before rinsing in cold water. The people at Barilla make traditional lasagna sheets as well as ones that are oven-ready and do not require boiling; I have never tried making lasagna without first boiling the pasta sheets so I’m not an authority on the oven-ready method. However, I do know enough about cooking to know that the pasta will soften up sufficiently while baking as long as you use enough tomato sauce to cover it entirely.

I prefer to use Barilla pasta; I believe it is a superior product – lighter and tastier than other brands. That’s just my preference; please use whichever brand you like.

This is the tradition Barilla lasagna I use.
One box (1 lb) is sufficient for one 9×13″ lasagna.
This is what the “no bake” or “oven-ready” lasagna sheets look like.
They are much smaller, the package is smaller
and you will need to buy several boxes
to make one 9×13″ lasagna.

If you’re making a traditional lasagna and boiling the pasta first, it’s very important to use a BIG pot. The lasagna sheets are long and wide and need plenty of room to move around in the water; I prefer to cook six sheets at a time for less crowding in the pot. Also, it’s extremely helpful to add a splash of oil to the pasta water; this will keep the lasagna sheets from sticking together. Once lasagna sheets get stuck together, it’s extremely difficult to separate them without tearing. A little oil in the cooking water will prevent a big sticky problem. Boil the lasagna sheets for the amount of time indicated in the cooking directions on the box. And don’t forget to salt the cooking water.

Boiled lasagna sheets should be rinsed and separated in a colander under cold water immediately after cooking and kept in a pot or plastic tub of cold water while the meat is cooking and the cheese filling is being prepared. Just as you would use an ice bath to stop vegetables from overcooking and to retain their color, use a cold water bath for the cooked lasagna sheets.

Here’s another trick a lot of cooks ignore. When assembling lasagna in a baking pan, the direction of the lasagna sheets should be alternated every other layer. The first layer of pasta should be placed lengthwise in the baking pan with the edges slightly overlapping; the next layer should be placed widthwise in the pan. Since the width of a standard lasagna pan is shorter than the length, the lasagna sheets will need to be trimmed to fit the pan. This is easy to do with standard kitchen scissors. Alternating the layers will make for a firmer lasagna that will not fall apart when cut into; this is the best assembly method to use regardless of the size of the pan and you will always have neatly cut squares of lasagna.

Here is an image of layering lasagna sheets; there’s no sauce or other ingredients in this image so you can clearly see what I mean by alternating the layers:

First layer is lengthwise; 2nd layer is widthwise
and trimmed to fit the size of the pan. Easy!

This may seem like a lot of information but don’t let it scare you; it’s basic reference info only. If you refer to it as you cook, you shouldn’t have any problems.

Now, let’s take a look at the ingredients:

1 lb sweet Italian sausage
1 lb ground chuck 80/20
½ cup diced onion
1 teaspoon minced garlic
28oz can crushed tomatoes (+see below)
12oz can tomato paste (+see below)
15oz can tomato sauce (+see below)
¼ cup water
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
½ cup freshly chopped basil
1 teaspoon Italian seasoning (*see below)
1 teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon black pepper
4 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
12 lasagna pasta sheets
15oz whole milk ricotta cheese
1 lb whole milk mozzarella, shredded (reserve a handful to sprinkle on top layer of lasagna)
½ cup grated Romano cheese (reserve a handful to sprinkle on top layer of lasagna)
½ cup grated parmigiano cheese (reserve a handful to sprinkle on top layer of lasagna)
1 large egg
dash nutmeg

+ I am not a fan of tomato sauce in a jar. My mother taught me to make her tomato sauce and that is the only one I use. On a day when I have nothing to do, I’ll whip up a few batches, portion it out into Tupperware and freeze it. It’s nice to know it’s there whenever I need it; however, canned tomatoes for this recipe are fine.

* Using a store-bought mixed jar of Italian seasoning is perfectly fine but you might want to try making your own. Combine 2 tablespoons each of dried basil, cilantro, marjoram, oregano, parsley, red pepper flakes, rosemary and thyme. Store in a tightly sealed spice jar. Using store-bought Italian seasoning for this recipe is fine.

COOKING INSTRUCTIONS

This recipe makes a large pan of lasagna.
I use a deep dish Pyrex lasagna pan or a deep 9×13” baking pan.

  1. In a large saucepan, cook the sausage, ground beef, onion and garlic until cooked through. Drain the fat..
  2. To the cooked meat add the tomatoes, paste, sauce, water, sugar, basil, Italian seasoning, salt, pepper and parsley. Stir well.
  3. Simmer, covered, over low heat for 1 ½ hours, stirring occasionally.
  4. While meat is cooking, boil the lasagna sheets; drain and keep cool in cold water.
  5. In a medium bowl mix together all the cheeses, egg and nutmeg

LET’S PUT OUR LASAGNA TOGETHER!
(I suggest reading through before starting)

  1. Heat oven to 350ºF.
  2. Lightly cover the bottom of a 9×13″ lasagna pan with a small amount of meat sauce.
  3. Lay 4 lasagna sheets lengthwise over meat sauce; overlap edges slightly.
  4. Spoon approximately ¼ of cheese mixture over lasagna sheets and spread to cover.
  5. Spread 1/2 cup of meat sauce – or enough to cover the cheese mixture.
  6. Cover meat sauce with 4 lasagna sheets widthwise, cutting to fit pan.
  7. Continue layering cheese mixture, meat sauce and lasagna sheets, alternating the direction of the sheets, until all ingredients are used. Reserve some meat sauce for the top layer. Top lasagna with meat sauce and sprinkle with grated cheese and mozzarella.
  8. Cover pan with with aluminum foil and bake for 25 minutes; remove foil and bake an additional 30 minutes uncovered.
  9. Allow the lasagna to cool for 15 minute before slicing.
  10. Serve with a side salad and warm Italian bread.

That’s all there is to it! You’ve made lasagna! 👩🏼‍🍳

It’s been a pleasure sharing with you the recipe for one of the most popular Italian dishes. There are many different variations of lasagna – meatless, wholegrain, vegetable, béchamel, kosher, etc; don’t be afraid to experiment and make whatever changes you like. Google is a chef’s great friend! If you’re not a fan of sausage, this recipe can be made using all ground beef.

More important that anything – enjoy your cooking experience. Cooking should be a joy – not a chore. To that end, I’ve added a full concert video by Il Volo to accompany you while you cook.

Happy cooking and eating! Buon appetito!

NAR © 2023

Short Story

MIXED SIGNALS

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN MESSAGES GET CROSSED

January 1, 2015

10:00 AM NY Time

To: Sophia

From: Paolo

Cara Sophia – I send you warmest greetings from Sicily and hope that you are well. Unfortunately, I have very bad news to share with you. There was a terrible fire in the guest cottage in Agrigento and all was lost. I know the idea of permanently relocating to Sicily and moving into the guest cottage has been your dream for many years; an undertaking of such magnitude is a huge change in one’s life and you were understandably hesitant to make a final decision. Sadly, now the house is destroyed and the decision has been made for you. Fortunately you still have your lovely home in New York. I hope sometime you will visit us for a few weeks at our home in Palermo. Ciao, cara – Paolo 

AT THE SAME TIME ON THAT CONVOLUTED DAY

January 1, 2015

10:00 AM NY Time

To: Paolo

From: Sophia

My dearest Paolo – After much thought and soul-searching, I have decided to accept your gracious offer to move into the beautiful guest cottage in Agrigento. The New York winters are getting progressively worse and I cannot stand another day here. I desperately need a change of scenery and a new life. I’m ready to become a permanent resident of Sicily! Luckily, I was able to sell my house quickly. The buyers would like to move into my house in two weeks which will give me enough time to pack my clothes, a few personal belongings and get everything in order for relocating. In anticipation of my move, I have already booked a flight to Palermo; my arrival date is two weeks from today. I will send you all the pertinent information in a separate email. Thank you again, my dear cousin, for the use of your guest cottage. I look forward to seeing you very soon in sunny Sicily. Ciao, caro – Sophia 

AT THE SAME TIME ON THAT VERY CONVOLUTED DAY

January 1, 2015

10:00 AM NY Time

To: Sophia

From: Angie

Hi Soph – How’s my favorite sister? I’ve got exciting news! I landed that great job I was angling for – the one at the music school near you. I know it’s been a while since you offered your guest room to me if I ever returned to New York so I’m hoping the offer still stands. You haven’t turned the room into a shrine to George Harrison, have you? LOL! Anyway, I sold my condo here in Boston and all I need to do is pack my stuff and buy a one way ticket to NY. I’ll be there in two weeks. Can’t wait to see you! It’ll be like old times hanging out together when we were teenagers. Talk to you soon, roomie! Love, your favorite sister, Angie 

PS: Brad moved to Seattle; singing at Starbucks and hoping to be discovered. He’s such a jerk! Oh well – his loss. 

AT THE SAME TIME ON THAT INCREDIBLY CONVOLUTED DAY

January 1, 2015

10:00 AM NY Time

To: Angie

From: Brad

Babe, I’m a total jackass! Forgive me, please!! Moving to Seattle was a really stupid idea. You tried to tell me and I wouldn’t listen. I miss you so much and this long distance relationship is never gonna work. What the hell was I thinking?? I’m coming home, Babe. I can’t wait to be back in Boston with you where I belong! I miss you and our life together. See you in two weeks. I love you, Babe! Brad xoxoxo ❤️😍🥰😘

NAR © 2023

Don’t get your wires crossed!
Meet me today for another
new segment in
The Rhythm Section!
There will be music
and maybe even cake!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

Uncategorized

EXPRESS LANE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

The insistent knocking on our apartment door at 4AM roused us from our sleep. We had many friends who were ‘night owls’ but no one came calling at this early hour.

When it became clear the person on the other side of the door was not going away, my husband Sean groggily slid out of bed, pulled on his jeans and walked to the door. Placing his eye against the peep hole revealed who interrupted our sleep and he quickly opened the door.

“Michael!” my husband greeted our friend. “C’mon in, man. What’s up and what’s with the suitcase?” 

“I got a problem, bro”, words I never heard the ever-confident Michael declare. He eased past Sean into our apartment and the two friends walked straight into our spare bedroom and closed the door. 

Flashback two years ago when we first met Michael. We were newlyweds when we moved into the apartment building where he lived; we became instant friends. Michael was the coolest guy we knew – good-looking, great dresser, incredibly smart, confident to a flaw, magnetic personality and sexy as hell. His bigger-than-life persona and ebullient laugh were contagious. He was the epitome of the cliché “Women want him and men want to be him”.

We got caught up in a whirlwind lifestyle and were soon speeding in the express lane of sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll.  Michael was fun, wild and fearless; he had all the right connections. We went to all the best parties and got into the hottest clubs. We partied every night, went to work the next day and did it all over again.

Oh yeah. There’s one thing I failed to mention. Michael was a narc working undercover for the NYPD’s Special Narcotics Division, a fact that saved our asses more times than I care to remember. We had plenty of close calls but all he had to do was whip out his badge, flash that smile, talk the talk and we were golden. 

Somehow Michael always managed to toe the line at work – except for that night when temptation won out, that same night he showed up at our place. Behind closed doors, Michael opened the suitcase to reveal the contents to Sean: hundreds of plastic bags stuffed with quaaludes. 

My husband stared at the suitcase incredulously for a moment before turning to Michael.

“What the fuck, bro?” Sean declared, part of him hoping some of the white pills marked Rorer 714 were meant for him.

“It was in the evidence room, undocumented”, Michael explained. “I just picked it up and walked the fuck out. I need to stash it here for a couple of days until I make a plan.” 

“Sure, man. No prob. Do what you gotta do.” 

They hugged, slapping each other’s backs, and Michael said “I’ll be in touch, man.” 

Michael went back to work and nobody – not one single crackerjack detective in the precinct noticed the suitcase was missing. After a few days, he returned to our place with a backpack. Taking out the suitcase he’d left with us, he dumped half the ludes into the backpack and gave the rest to Sean. “Here you go, brother – courtesy of the NYPD!” 

My husband draped his arm over our friend’s shoulders as they walked to the door. Michael turned and flashed me that amazing grin. “See ya ‘round the campus, people.”

He took off into the night, never to be seen again. 

NAR © 2023

Please stop by
In The Groove
for more music
today
https://rhythmsection.blog/

Uncategorized

MOON WALKING

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

I was thinking about that night back in March when Max and I went out walking. We were both feeling a little restless and unsettled; walks always took the edge off. It was really quiet on that road; even the usual noisy critters in the woods were not chattering. A brightness broke through the clouds and fog, lighting the way as we went moon walking. That’s when I started softly reminiscing about my life with Max.

“You know, Max, it’s hard to believe we’ve been together four years already – just you and me, constant companions. I still think about the first time we found each other. We both really needed someone in our lives at that time, somebody to fill a void. It didn’t take long before we were best friends.

Working from home during Covid took a little getting used to; being in each other’s space 24/7 could have been disastrous but it turned out to be a blessing. We kept each other from going crazy while holed up inside. I imagined a lot of staring out the window, whining. Thank goodness for that park across the street and our quick jogs for groceries.

Yeah, Max. You’re my main man and I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ve been tossing some stuff around in my head and I have something very important I need to run by you, buddy: you see, I’ve found someone.

Now, don’t start getting weird on me, Max. This is new territory for me, bringing someone into my life – into your life, too. She’s become very important to me and I hope you’ll like her as much as I do. I’ve been giving this a lot of thought and I’d like her to move in with me … with us. I know this is all very sudden and it’s asking a lot, which is why I want you to meet her and get to know her.

She makes me happy, Max, and I can see all of us spending our lives together. She’s sweet, beautiful and loving. Well, you’ll see for yourself; she’s going to meet us here tonight. I call her Sasha.”

Max and I gave each other a look and I wondered if my eyes said “I know this is a lot to take in”. As we approached a large tree along the side of the road, there was Sasha, waiting for us, and I quickened my step to greet her. We nuzzled and sniffed each other, totally forgetting Max was standing a few feet away, patiently waiting. I looked back and forth between my two loves – one canine and one human – and I hoped Sasha and Max would become best friends, just like me and Max.

Finally Max came over to us and squatted down for a better look. I had no idea what he was going to say and I was a bit nervous. For the first time since we started our walk, Max spoke:

“Well, look at you, Miss Sasha! Aren’t you a pretty girl? You’ve got a lovely lady friend here, Jake, a petite chocolate lab. Let’s see; do you have a collar? Nope, nothing. Well, you’re either a stray, a run-away or someone let you go. I can’t imagine that, not a pretty girl like you.”

Just then Sasha darted over to the tree and emerged with a puppy dangling from her mouth; my heart did a flip. Our little guy couldn’t have been more than a couple of days old. Sasha walked right up to Max.

“Well, would you look at that!” Max laughed. “A little guy and he looks just like you, Jake! I guess congratulations are in order. Well, Jake, Sasha. What do you say we all head home? Sasha, may l carry your pup for you?”

Sasha looked up at Max with trusting eyes and gently placed our pup in his hands. We all headed home, walking in the moonlight; Max hummed a happy tune while Sasha and I trotted close beside.

“Sasha, we really need to find a nice woman for Max, don’t you think?” and my love gave a little woof of agreement.

NAR © 2023

Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #230
Uncategorized

UNDER THE BAEL TREE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬
© Amanda Forestwood

Kabir and Deepak sat under a bael tree taking a break from the heat of the afternoon sun. They shared an aloo toast sandwich while keeping watch over their rickshaws, Deepak smiling and contented, Kabir scowling and dejected.

“What is your problem, Kabir?” asked Deepak. “You never seem happy nor do you have anything cheerful to say. You do not talk about your children and how they are doing in school nor do you discuss how things are with your wife.”

“We are struggling day after day, Deepak. Nothing positive ever happens. There are bills and rent to pay. Now my wife just told me she is expecting another child!”

“Congratulations, my friend! Another child! How can you say nothing positive ever happens? This is a blessing for you and your wife!”

“You think so, Deepak, when we can barely feed the three children we already have? Now my wife will be unable to work and I will be the only wage earner in the family. My pockets are empty and I will have to work even more hours!”

The two men ate in silence for a while, then Deepak spoke. “Kabir, we have known each other all our lives. We are like brothers so I am going to speak plainly to you. How we greet each new day shows clearly on our faces. If you are negative and always feel you deserve more in life, that is the first thing people see. When your wife told you she was expecting a baby, did you embrace her and tell her how happy you were? Did you share this joy with your other children? I can see by the look on your face that you did not. Why, Kabir?”

Kabir hesitated for a moment. “Deepak, it’s true we are like brothers but you have never had to scrimp and save for the things in your life. Your children are happy and do well in school while mine are sullen. Your wife is content and radiates joy while mine is depressed. Do not try to tell me we are the same when we have been dealt a very different lot in life.”

At this Deepak became angry. “Kabir, you are a fool! Do you think I haven’t had to work for what I have? How our children grow and behave is a direct reflection of us and how we behave. How our wives feel is directly based on how we feel. If we are sullen, our home will be bleak and if we are optimistic, our home will be cheerful. Together my wife and I pledge to make the best of every day. Nothing good comes without effort.”

Having said that, Deepak stood to leave. “Kabir, it is never too late. You still have time to turn things around. May your life always be full and blessed and may your rickshaw … and your pockets … never be empty.”

Kabir sat alone under the bael tree thinking what a camel’s ass he had been. The passengers will still be here one hour from now; first he needed to go home and embrace his wife.

NAR © 2023

21 July 2023
Uncategorized

BEYOND THE SEA

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

We were at our yearly reunion in Montauk – me and three friends from college on a break from our husbands and kids. 

My friends wanted to take the ferry from Montauk to Block Island and return the next day. I’d been there before and it was exactly like Montauk. I suggested we do something different like rent a sailboat or go hang gliding but I was vetoed.    

After I got used to the idea of being alone, I thought “This is great!” I was relishing the idea of being able to do something by myself. I decided to take our inflatable raft down to the water – spend some time working on my tan, then check out that new restaurant by the harbor. The raft was no frills – a nylon ladder, a paddle and a 15 foot docking rope.    

As I paddled out of the harbor, people waved to me from nearby waterfront restaurants and fishing boats. Clearing the jetty, I stopped paddling and let the ocean swells carry me out to sea. I stretched out as the sun danced off the water and the waves lulled me to sleep. 

When I awoke I had no idea where I was. The sea was choppier than before my nap, too. Judging by my sunburn and parched throat, I slept longer than I intended. I retrieved my water bottle from my backpack and downed the contents – probably not a wise move considering I wasn’t quite sure where I was or how long it would take me to get back. There were no buoys or markers anywhere in sight.

Just then I became aware of something unsettling. I heard it before I saw it – a surging rush of water quickly approaching me. I grabbed the inner ropes of the raft and held on tightly. Then it was upon me – a huge wave heaving me forward and pulling me back again. I have no idea how long the surges continued – hours, perhaps only minutes of being tossed about like a rag doll – but I managed to keep my grip and stay afloat in the raft. 

The large waves had apparently carried my little raft further than I realized. I could see a large rock formation in the water I had not seen before my nap. If I could paddle around the rock, I might be able to determine where I was, possibly even spot a beach. I began paddling, careful not to get too close to the rock in case the waves picked up again. As I feared, I could feel the swell of the ocean and the surging waves beginning once again. This time the waves were even stronger than before and I was starting to get scared. Then, almost as quickly as the waves began, they stopped.

Just as the waters calmed I became aware of something butting the side of the raft. There it was again! Whatever was attacking my little craft was trying to get in – or flip it over! It was long and slimy; “Could it be an eel?” I thought. I instinctively reached for the paddle which was secured in place. I swung at whatever this creature was until I finally made contact. Somehow it made its way into the raft and was whipping around like a whirling dervish. I pounded it repeatedly until I was certain it was dead. I scampered as far away as I could and curled myself into a ball. 

All was quiet. I opened my eyes and squinted in the sunlight at the lifeless blob in the middle of my raft. As I inched closer I realized it was an octopus and I had a momentary pang of guilt for having killed this amazing sea creature. But then on closer inspection I saw something that stopped me dead in my tracks. Sticking out of the side of the octopus was a bright red inflation valve. The sea creature I had done battle with not more then 10 minutes earlier was nothing but a child’s inflatable water toy! I was fighting with an incredibly life-like blow-up rubber octopus! Thank goodness no one was around to witness that ridiculous spectacle.

I kicked the offending inflatable toy across the raft and grabbed my paddle, determined to find my way back to shore. As I turned around I came face to face with a large group of people on a chartered fishing boat drifting casually in the water. Obviously the waves I experienced earlier were caused by the boat’s engine as the captain drove around searching for a good place to drop anchor.

All eyes were on me and I’m sure my embarrassment showed through my sunburn. I feebly waved to the people on board; they waved back, then everyone started laughing. My struggle with the “vicious sea creature” was likely the funniest thing they’d seen all day! If anyone recorded me and posts it online, I’ll never be able to live it down. How humiliating!

“Ahoy!” rang out the captain’s voice. “Do you need help?” 

“Yes.” I replied somewhat sheepishly “Can you give me a tow to the nearest dock?”

“Well, I could but it would be a hell of a lot easier for you to paddle over to that beach” he replied, pointing to my left. “By the way, sure looks like you showed that ferocious octopus who’s boss!” 

Mortified, I paddled away to peals of laughter. 🐙

NAR © 2023

Float on by today
for a little game of
Name That Tune.
It’ll be fun!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

Uncategorized

A COLD CASE

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Word on the street was Louie “No Nose” Lombardo was sprung from the slammer. He must have sung like a canary whistling a sweet ballad to earn his “get out of jail free” card.

His early release spelled big trouble; not only was Louie seeking revenge for his disfigurement and incarceration, he got wind that his sworn enemy Tony “The Cutter” Tedesco had been sniffing around his wife while he was doing time. Yeah, that rat bastard Tony gave new meaning to the term “double-cross”.

Louie and Tony weren’t always enemies. In fact, when they were kids they were inseparable, like brothers. They would ride their bikes down to the empty lot where they’d scrounge around for discarded cigarette butts with just enough life left for a couple of drags. They played stickball in the street with a broom handle and a Spaldeen. During the summer they’d jump on the rear bumper of a bus or truck and snag a free ride to Orchard Beach, laughing and holding on for dear life. When they got close, they’d jump off and sneak onto the beach through an opening in the fence. 

Tony’s father, Tommaso Tedesco, was the mob mortician for Tedesco Brothers Funeral Home and you better believe he knew where the bodies were buried. He wasn’t called “The Undertaker” for nothing. Sometimes Tony and Louie would sneak in after a wake to check the big sofa cushions for loose change. 

One day around Christmas Louie got nabbed in Woolworth’s Five and Dime trying to shoplift an angel ornament for his mother. When the store manager realized Louie’s father was the owner of Luca’s Ristorante, a well-known mob hangout, he looked the other way. He let Louie keep the ornament saying “He didn’t want any trouble”. He even gave Louie a paper bag filled with Christmas candy.

Louie’s father Luca Lombardo was the finest chef of authentic Italian food in the entire tri-state area and was held in high regard by the members of La Cosa Nostra. Luca knew what side his bread was buttered on; he kept the restaurant open late for syndicate bosses like Rocco “The Rocket” Randazzo. He and his soldiers were welcome at Luca’s any day, any time. It was a discreet, safe place and the police looked the other way.

For the first 19 years of their lives nothing or no one could come between Louie and Tony – that is until Rocco brought his  daughter Rosanna to Luca’s restaurant. Rosanna could render even the toughest wise guy powerless. She was a vixen with long chestnut hair, flawless bronze skin, smoky green eyes and a body that could melt the mozzarella right off your pizza. 

Rosanna was a real tease and Tony and Louie fell hard. She hooked up with both, enjoying the game of pitting them against each other, watching their animosity grow like angry dogs fighting over a bone. After stringing them along for over a year, Rosanna finally chose Louie.

Rocco gave the couple his blessing along with an extravagant wedding, a lavish honeymoon in Italy, a beautiful house and a bundle of money. Now that Louie was Rosanna’s husband, it wasn’t long before Rocco brought him into the family “business”. Seven months after the wedding, Rosanna had a baby and her jilted lover Tony was invited to the christening party. Louie paraded Rosanna around the room on his arm like a trophy while Rocco proudly displayed his first grandson. And all Tony could think about was whether he was the father of Rosanna’s baby and not her husband Louie.

The cacophony of music, laughter and cheering mixed with the crazy thoughts in his head was getting to Tony big time; he lost it and went ape shit. Tony and Louie started fighting. Pushing and shoving led to punches, then the switchblades came out. Suddenly Tony’s brother Angelo lunged at Rocco and Louie intervened, protecting his father-in-law by fatally stabbing Angelo. Seeing his brother murdered was the final blow for Tony; howling like an animal, he whirled around and sliced off most of Louie’s nose. 

At his trial for Angelo’s stabbing death, Louie was charged with manslaughter and sent up the river to Dannemora. Rocco, indebted to Louie for saving his life, told him to sit tight and he’d take care of everything. “Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen” Rocco pledged. Louie whispered in his ear and Rocco replied “Consider it done.”

Rocco called in some favors, greased a few palms and made the Governor an offer he couldn’t refuse by reminding him of the sex scandal that Rocco made disappear. It all fell into place nicely; Louie was pardoned and released.

Two weeks later Louie was staring at a portrait of Tony next to his closed casket at Tedesco Brothers Funeral Home. The photo of his one-time best friend had to suffice; after being blown to bits by a car bomb, there was nothing left of Tony to look at.  

The police have no leads. 

NAR © 2023
Incorporated the words ballad, double-cross, render, bundle and cacophony.
#gb5ww #gmgblog

Five Word Weekly Challenge (2326)

Uncategorized

WISHFUL THINKING

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Saying “Hello” is so much sweeter than saying “Goodbye”. 

Hello to a new year, new beginnings, new friends and new memories to be made.

Goodbye to 2022; it was not a stellar year for many of us.

Change was in the forefront last year; changing our habits, our attitudes, our priorities is not easy but it is often good and usually necessary. I chose to make some difficult changes; I was indecisive and flip-flopped many times but ultimately got my act together and made the necessary adjustments in my life. I cut ties with a few people which, while being profoundly difficult, proved to be for the best. I will miss those people but I will not allow them to influence my life.

There were losses, especially one that will forever leave a void. That was the passing of a dear old friend, a tremendous shock and extreme sadness for everyone who knew him. Rest easy, Jean-Michel; there is no doubt in my mind that you are singing with the choir of angels.

Health issues were a concern for us again this year. Arthritis has found a nice home for itself in most of my joints; it’s not fun watching yourself slowing down and being unable to do the things that once came so easily. Through our communication, I discovered that many of you are enduring the same pain; it was eye-opening and humbling to hear of the great discomfort you’re experiencing. I’m doing whatever it takes to keep myself from turning into the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz. If only WD40 worked on people! I have a fabulous physical therapist who has brought me out of the depths of pain before and is doing so again. Thank God for you and your magic hands, Dr. Wonda!

Good times and serendipitous events occurred as well during 2022. I made a lot of new friends on WordPress, had my work published several times and will be joining forces on an exciting project with one of my new friends who is now a very good friend. I’ve never had a writing ‘partner’ before so this new side venture should be interesting and fun. This is not in place of my website; I won’t stop writing stories and will never abandon my baby, The Elephant’s Trunk! 

Over the years I have been blessed more times than I can count so there’s no point dwelling on the negatives and what-ifs. I thank God for my amazing Bill, our beautiful family and incredible in-laws. Truly dear friends are a rare commodity; I’m so very thankful for the few everlasting bonds of friendship that have been formed over the years. We came perilously close to losing a family member as recently as ten days ago. With a multitude of prayers and God guiding the doctor’s hands, she is now on the road to recovery. Marie, we love you and are so grateful to have you back with us. And soon you will get to see Colette again!

And now for you, my dear WordPress friends. Sincere thanks for reading my stories, my labors of love. I appreciate you, all your “likes” and comments, but most of all I delight in our camaraderie. We are a family of writers, poets, artists, cooks, musicians, comedians, deep thinkers and visionaries, all bringing joy and entertainment to others while living our own dreams, whether grand or modest. Thank you for allowing me into your world.

I wish you all a happy, safe, healthy, blessed and fulfilling year ahead. Take good care and be well always. And may all your wishes and dreams come true!

Happy New Year!

NAR © 2023

Uncategorized

LEND ME A HAND!

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Greetings to all my wondrous WordPressing friends! It’s incredible how many friends I have made here; your challenges and word prompts etc., are amazingly creative.

When I first started my site in 2017, I figured I’d write a couple of little stories now and then. Well, five years later and one look at my site will show you how that turned out! It took on a life of its own and morphed into Audrey II from Little Shop of Horrors.

Not that I’m complaining ….. far from it. My site blossomed and I’m very grateful for all my followers and all the ‘likes’ you give me. Your complimentary and encouraging comments spur me on to be as creative and original as possible.

I’ve been following a lot of you, too, and trying to keep up with all the prompts you post; as much as I’d like to, it’s impossible to participate in and contribute to all of them. If I did, I’d never have time to write my own stories and let’s face it – that is my first love. I’m a storyteller and I think I’ve been neglecting my site just a bit by trying to keep up with all your sites.

Don’t look at me like that; you haven’t even read what I’m going to say!

I have no intention of bailing out on you, my WordPress friends. I just need to cut back a little and try to not spread myself so thin. If something really cool pops out at me on one of your posts (and I’m 100% sure that will happen) then I’ll plunge in and I’ll give it my best shot just like I do with all the stories I write.

This is not goodbye; you can’t get rid of me that easily. I’ll still be stopping by every day checking up on you, reading your poems and stories and taking up a challenge whenever I can.

Keep on keeping on, everyone. You’re the best group of people ever!

NAR © 2022

Uncategorized

ANOTHER TRIP AROUND THE SUN

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

So yesterday was my birthday. Another trip around the sun. I’m not telling my age but here’s a hint: I was a teenager, albeit a young one, when I saw The Beatles at Shea Stadium in 1965.

So what knowledge have I amassed over the years? Plenty, but there’s still room for growth!

  • I give great advice but rarely listen to my own. That’s a work in constant progress.
  • I’ve been told I can be intimidating; I like to think of it as having a big personality and being outgoing. Show me a stage and I’ll sing you a song or two or ten.
  • I have a big heart and wear it on my sleeve. My mouth is just as big as my heart. I say what’s on my mind, tell the truth but try not to hurt anyone’s feelings in the process. I’m not always successful and there has been collateral damage. No excuses.
  • I have no use for liars, manipulators or abusers of any kind.
  • I’m not offended if a man opens the door for me, offers me a seat or tells me I look pretty. Men are not the enemy. Perhaps having two sons has made me somewhat biased on that subject but there you have it. Some of my female friends won’t like what I just said. I’ll survive.
  • I work very well under pressure but can be as lazy as fuck when I want to be.
  • I curse but never in front of my grandchildren; they will hear enough of that in school, tv and online; they don’t need to hear it from me.
  • I have an addictive personality and need to rein it in sometimes.
  • I love writing and think I’m pretty good at it. And I love music but draw the line at Rush.
  • When I love it’s with my whole being and I have very few regrets – except that one debacle of a date with Martin Kovach. Maybe I’ll write a story about that. Don’t worry; it’s a comedy.
  • I’m smart and funny (and humble) but I make mistakes frequently and with great flourish. I’m confident, even when making mistakes, and love an audience. Not everyone likes me; no worries – the feeling is mutual. I’m not going to turn myself into a pretzel to get someone to like me; this is it, folks.
  • I’m usually happy but mostly content. Believe me, you’ll know when I’m unhappy or mad.
  • If you’re looking for someone to be on your trivia team, I’m your gal. But don’t ever ask me a math question. Seriously. I have the dubious distinction of being the only student in my school (that I’m aware of) to be excused from algebra and allowed to double up on English. The anguish on the part of myself and my teachers just wasn’t worth it.
  • One drink will make me comfortably numb; two drinks and I’m pretty much drunk. When I was dating, I’d order sloe gin fizzes because they were tasty but they made me drunk and sick to my stomach. I threw up at the end of almost every date with Bill but he married me anyway.
  • I love my family unconditionally. You think you’ll never love anyone more than your spouse … then you have children and that theory goes right out the window. Then you have grandchildren. Fugetaboutit! These are my baby’s babies – a mind-blowing concept – and I adore them.
  • I’m proud of my Sicilian heritage. I love the United States but I’m heartbroken and frustrated over what’s happening here.
  • There’s nothing wrong with saying “no”. My heart and mind are young; my joints not so much so if I say “no” it’s not because I don’t want to; it’s because I’m tired and achy. I’ve got the scars to prove it.
  • There’s also nothing wrong with saying “I love you” – not to strangers; that’s just weird. But if there’s someone in your life who means the world to you, tell them you love them. Some people get scared when you say “I love you”; it makes them nervous and that’s a shame. Maybe if we all said it more often the world wouldn’t be in the mess it’s in.
  • I have a lot of friends but just a handful of really good, close friends. That’s ok; life isn’t a popularity contest.
  • When all else fails, listen to The Beatles. Peace and love really are all you need and in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make.

NAR © 2022

An older but hopefully wiser me
Uncategorized

EACH DAY IS VALENTINE’S DAY

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

LOVE (noun): deep affection, fondness, tenderness, warmth, intimacy, attachment, endearment, devotion, adoration, doting, idolization, worship, passion, ardor, desire, lust, yearning, infatuation, adulation.

I’m a romantic soul. I love the idea of love, being in love and being loved. I’m Italian – being passionate comes naturally to me. I love my family and my friends. It’s a feeling deep inside me and I don’t care who knows. In fact, I want them to know! I wear my heart on my sleeve and I’ve been hurt because of that vulnerability but I’d rather love and risk being hurt than go around being an unfeeling, grumpy-ass sourpuss full of apathy, ennui and angst.

Loving goes beyond the love of people. I love writing, food, a quiet Saturday morning, the smell of coffee, a good movie, music, animals, feeling the sun on my face on a warm spring day, the sound of my grandchildren laughing, my husband who would do anything for me, spending time with cherished friends both near and far.

While flowers are lovely, they wither and die. Chocolate is heavenly but it lasts longer on my hips than on my lips! I enjoy sharing a good bottle of wine and meaningful conversation with someone I care about. I adore a dirty joke, a sentimental song and reading my friend’s poetry.

And why are people so afraid to say “I love you”? Guys – admit it; it gives you the cold sweats. Loving someone isn’t the same as being in love with someone. We often take the easy way out and send little messages like “Luv ya!” or “I ❤️ you”. Some of us can’t even bring ourselves to say the word “love”.

What’s this fascination with loving things? You hear people say “I love my car.” “I love Starbucks.” “I love my new phone.” “I love these shoes.” “I love that restaurant.” “I love that show.” Sure, these things bring us pleasure but we can live without them and they sure as hell don’t love us back.

What I can’t live without are the special people in my life, the people who call you up just to say “Hi. How are you?” and end with “I love you” without expecting anything in return except maybe hearing “I’ve missed you! I love you, too.”

Chances are if you’re reading this it’s because you enjoy the things I write about and that makes me very happy. If my writing can bring you pleasure, make you think, smile, laugh or cry, then I’ve done my job. Thank you for taking the time to read this and listening to the song below; it’s one of my favorites.

I think the idea of Valentine’s Day is grand; it’s sweet and sexy and over-the-top crazy romantic. It’s all about love. Wouldn’t it be amazing if everyday was Valentine’s Day?  

NAR © 2022

Uncategorized

SEE ME, FEEL ME

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

My husband Sam and I were hosting our usual Friday night dinner with friends, something we’ve been doing for several years. Sam is a psychology professor at NYU and I manage Dahlia’s, an eponymously named floral shop.

Our weekly dinner companions are Claude and his wife Piper who own a small eclectic bookstore called The Paper Trail and Austin and Rebecca who have been engaged for seven years. Rebecca is a music teacher at a private school in Manhattan and Austin is a graphic designer. We keep asking them “When’s the big day?” but neither one seems to be in a rush.

Our dinner conversations are always lively, touching on a variety of topics. This particular evening, Sam said “I asked my class this question today: ‘If you had to choose between being deaf or being blind, which would you choose?’ Now, my friends, I’d like to know how you would answer that question.” My husband – ever the provocateur! Perhaps that’s what I find so stimulating about him.

Well, no big surprise, no one said anything for a moment; this was a profound question. I finally decided to break the ice by responding. “For me, as a florist, I would have to say I’d choose to be deaf. I need to see the arrangements I’m creating, which color flowers go well together, the best bouquets to match bridesmaid’s dresses, even something as simple as placing flowers in the right vase. I wouldn’t have to hear the bell on the shop’s front door or the telephone ring; both can be hooked up to a light to get my attention. And customers could always email or text me with their orders. Why, I could even communicate with my customers via tablets in the shop. I’d still be able to see and smell all the beautiful flowers, meet my customer’s expectations and take pride in my creations.”

Spurred on by my answer, Austin chimed in. “Exactly! I totally agree with Dahlia. In the field of graphic design, I would be incapable of working without the ability to see. These days there are so many electronic devices we can use to communicate; I don’t think being deaf would interfere with my life or my work at all.”

Immediately Rebecca countered what we said. “I get where the two of you are coming from but I could never teach music if I were deaf. I’d be able to place my fingers on the correct piano keys or strum the right strings on a guitar because I’ve been making music all my life. It’s second nature to me. But I wouldn’t want to exist without the sound of music, to hear my students playing, to correct their mistakes or praise their achievements. It would be impossible for me to conduct an orchestra, not knowing if the violins should be a little louder or the bassoons pianissimo. Austin, if you were deaf, you wouldn’t hear the wedding march when I walk down the aisle or hear me say the words ‘I do’.”

Austin was quick to reply. “As long as I could see your radiant face in your gorgeous wedding gown carrying the beautiful bouquet designed by Dahlia, that’s all that would matter. And as far as hearing you say ‘I do’, I would read your luscious lips before tenderly kissing my new bride.”

We all laughed as Sam exclaimed “Nice save, Austin! Claude and Piper, we’ve yet to hear from you. What’s your poison – deaf or blind?”

As if on cue, both Claude and Piper declared their answers at the same time; he said “Deaf”; she said “Blind”. They stared at each other in bewilderment and the rest of us couldn’t help but laugh at the expressions on their faces. Of course Sam had to keep the game going by saying “At last! Some controversy, a little gasoline on the fire of our conversation. Let’s keep this ball rolling!” and he poured everyone a fresh glass of wine.

Claude cleared his throat. “Piper, mon cher, we own a bookstore! How can you possibly say you would choose blindness over deafness? Mon Dieu! Have you forgotten how we bonded at that little book shop in Paris … what was the name? Ah! La Manoeuvre! We both reached for the same book of poetry by Paul Eluard and when our eyes met I knew I could never look away.’’

“Oh, my darling Claude. I could never forget La Manoeuvre. You read poetry to me and time stood still. It was as though we were the only people in that shop. Our love for books is why we bought The Paper Trail; that store is our baby. I know each book on every shelf and have read most of them. The feel of the paper, the smell of the leather-bound first editions, hearing you read to me – I do not need sight to love a book.”

Piper and Claude moved closer to each other and embraced, momentarily forgetting they were not alone. They kissed, then pulled away, embarrassed. Piper blushed and gave a breathless laugh.

“Claude, do you remember the books I had in my bag the day we first met?” Piper asked.

Claude nodded and said “Oui. One was ‘Wuthering Heights’ in Braille and the other was French sign language. They were for your parents.”

Piper looked around the room at the rest of us and explained. “My mother is blind and my father is deaf. Somehow they never had trouble communicating; I suppose they spoke the silent language of love. That’s why I was so passionate about having a Braille section in our bookstore. Also, there is new technology to help both blind and deaf people enjoy a movie or television.”

Turning to Claude, Piper said “As long as I can hear your voice, it doesn’t matter if I never see another thing again.”

We all felt a little in awe of Piper at that moment. We sipped our wine, captivated by the sounds of silence.  

NAR © 2022

Uncategorized

TEA FOR THE TILLERMAN

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Lighted gardenia-scented candles flickered throughout the Brevard Jewish Community Temple. I grew up in Brevard, North Carolina but moved to San Francisco at the age of 17 to “find myself“. After 20–plus years and still not certain who I truly was, I felt the time had come to revisit my hometown. 

It all began after reading an article in the Transylvania County Times about BJCT which my dear friend Marsha sent me; a few of the lines truly resonated with me: 

“It is good to enter into the spirit of the Sabbath, a time in which our personal concerns drop away for a few hours and we get a sense of the larger meaning of life and fellowship, one unconcerned with wealth or occupation or standing. That is what Shabbat can do – take us to a place of repose, equality, community and perhaps even peace of mind.” 

After my catastrophic marriage, peace of mind sounded like an impossible quest. Once my decision to return to Brevard was made, I called Marsha; she met me at the airport and our first stop was the temple. Services were already in progress so we sat in the back listening to the tranquil beauty of the ancient Hebrew chants. 

Hearing the cantor’s resonant voice I realized it was familiar to me. I opened my eyes to see who was singing but my view was obstructed by a woman’s enormous hat. “I know that voice.” Glancing down at my program I saw a name that made my heart pound: ‘Arthur Rosen’.  So much time had gone by but his name still warmed my blood. ‘’The one that got away’’, as the saying goes, when in actuality he was the one I pushed away. 

As the people were leaving the temple, Marsha and I stopped to chat with Arthur; I wondered if he sensed my heart and mind were racing. He was as handsome as I remembered – a little grayer and sporting a closely-cropped beard which added to his rugged charm. His blue eyes were still captivating, his smile warm and inviting. I couldn’t help noticing he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. 

“Lois Efron! You have no idea how wonderful it is to see you after all these years! If I may say, you look radiant!” Arthur exclaimed. Truly happy to see me, he clasped my hands in his. 

No embraces, no awkward kiss on the cheek – just genuine pleasure in seeing me again. 

“It’s wonderful to see you too, Arthur – an especially nice surprise.” 

He asked me what I’d been doing all this time and laughed when I told him “I was on the road to find out.” 

“Aren’t we all, Lois?” he asked. “Tell me; were you victorious?” 

Now it was my time to laugh, saying “Oh, no! Not at all!” 

“Well, then, you must persevere!” Arthur replied with an engaging smile. 

We said our goodbyes and I realized we were still holding hands. I suddenly remembered those many nights we held hands listening to “Tea for the Tillerman”.

Marsha slid behind the wheel of her car and I casually asked “So, when were you going to tell me Arthur was still living here?” 

“Would you have come if I did?” and I found I honestly didn’t know the answer. “Lois, before we go to lunch I’d like to show you something.”

As we rode through the downtown area I was shocked by how much it had changed since I left. It was now dynamic and vibrant with eclectic stores, charming restaurants and lively pubs. Marsha parked the car, walked to a store and unlocked the door. 

“Wait a second. Is this YOUR store?” I asked.

“Founder and owner” Marsha replied proudly. “What? Don’t sound so surprised! Welcome to Theophilus – a little bit of everything for the discriminating client.” 

We were no longer in Brevard; this was a taste of the exotic Middle East. Gorgeous Persian rugs adorned the floors, hookahs, statues, belly dancing skirts bedecked with crystals, finger cymbals, lanterns, perfumes, jewelry boxes, coffee, almonds, candied dates and so much more filled the store. 

“Do you like it?” Marsha asked excitedly. 

“It’s magical, Marsha. I love it!” I responded, looking around in amazement. 

“And look” Marsha said, gently guiding me toward the front window. “See that blue house across the street? Arthur lives there … very much alone. I’m sure he’d warmly welcome your company.”

I smiled knowingly at my friend; she understood me like no one else.

Yes, I think I’d found my way home. 

NAR © 2021