“They wouldn’t have access to firearms, and even if they did, they’d not have ready access to bullets, so they likely wouldn’t bother with that kind of weapon. They are masters with a knife, which they probably make from obsidian found in Chiapas, as well as handmade axes, and machetes. They’d get by and would do a lot of damage with those tools, their meanness, and their hands.”

The more dangerous wildlife came out at night to feed, for one thing, and another, we didn’t know what kind of two-legged creatures were lurking about. Rumors had milled around the community that there was some kind of encampment, deeper within the jungle’s density, of men who were less than civilized. Meaning, I had assumed, that they didn’t care what they took or who they hurt when it came to wanting something for themselves. No one had actually seen this camp, so I thought it was a made-up story to keep the masses away from the better swim areas.

At the end of my home-office day, at this newest questionable RV Park, I sat out under the awning, sipping wine, waiting. Our usual Happy Hour was unusually late. But I wasn't going to let myself stew about it too much and allow my imagination to boil over so that a fight would ensue, but as the time ticked away, squelching an over-active imagination was becoming more difficult. Did this lateness have anything to do with any of the babes I had seen at the restaurant bar? Was he becoming too fixated on those enhanced boobs to pay attention to time? I couldn't help but wonder.

Asking the dusky midnight

With full moon shadows

The dark-lightness is seen with tugs

Of days gone by,

Nostalgic days,

Loving days,

Precious days,

Ne’er to live again,

Only to capture anew.

The night was calm and warm, and I felt wonderful just being in my own thoughts, until I felt hands on my body, and lips trying to devour mine. I reacted spontaneously, surprising myself. With eyes closed the wine helped me give in and reciprocate as the hands roamed, lips and tongue explored, and clothes came off. More fondles and explorations continued. What a high to feel this free.

My breath caught. Just as I thought I’d never seen anything more beautiful, more colors came bursting forth just down the beach, and then more and more. Every which way we looked the sky was aflame with startling showers of vibrant hues that doubled in magnitude from their reflections on the water, the likes of which I have never experienced.

“We take the solstice very seriously,” Matthew began, “It is a very important night. As you probably know, the term ‘solstice’ is derived from the Latin words for sun, which is sol, and sistere, which means ‘to make stand’, since that is when the axis of the earth seems to pause its shift for moving in the other direction. This pause is the start for bringing on a new year of movement and growth…a new solar cycle.”

My soul is awakened by the gentle nudge of a song

That has filtered into the recesses of my mind

As it mingles with the deeds of work and play.

My soul is stirred with a breath of whispered longing

When I hear the harmonizing movement

Of instruments or voices

As it dances with my thoughts.

Have you ever watched the morning grow

From total darkness, no light to show

The bare outlines, which are around

that slowly merge into profound

Shapes and forms, no details yet,

just subtle hints that you regret

not having them remain?

My heart was hammering and I nearly missed the noise in the background. I had to strain to hear. There was a thrumming noise, constant in its rhythm that would be accompanied by a sharper whack, like the striking of a hammer. But then a new sound caused us to stop in our tracks — chilling my bones. A scream. I clutched Marty’s arm.

“What the hell was that?” I whispered.

The Hills & Plains, Oh my!

To travel ‘cross

This desert plain,

While heat is bearing down

Naught for miles

But shadow’s stain,

No water to be found.

‘Til we see a glistening sea

Just barely up ahead

Let’s hurry, I beseeched

For thirst doeth abound,

But no matter the hurried speed,

Or the distance we would go,

that sea would ne’er be reached,

a truth filled with woe.

More gently, with the hopes of getting a verbal response with an actual dialog, I repeated my question, “Why do you do this? I am sincere in wanting to know the answer to that question. What do you get out of the time spent dialing numbers and then just breathing in the phone, or saying ugly things to people? Do you like people getting pissed off at you; is that your motive? Just tell me, because I really do want to know why you do this?”

As I sat, I kept watching the wall where I had seen the cloudy spectral disappear, and tried to hurry and be gone. Finished, I hopped up, pulled my clothes back into place and hurried out of the small space, and walked to the sink. As I washed my hands, I glanced into the mirror to see my white face and the fear in my eyes, but I also saw movement behind me. When I focused on the distraction, the same black-clad figure sat on one of the chairs behind me. I gasped and turned.

The chair was empty.

As iced-rain pelted against darkened glassed pane,

scarcely preparing minds-eye for morning’s sight,

as creaks, snaps, cracklings rent the consciousness

to envision the fractured members of stately timbers;

the morning’s find only half predicted.

“When I turned seventy, which was ten years ago, mind you, by the time I caught Carter, that I’d just told you about, our bodies weren’t working as well as they had been before the abstinence. Carter hadn’t been maintaining the muscles needed to fuck missionary style, and my knees wouldn’t work as well either to be the one on top.”

The Sun-Moon.

Gallant in its watch,

Brightly shines

Over Shadow’s edge.

My canvas, representing the space for love I have in my heart, is vast and empty. It stands barren against the gigantic easel waiting, hoping to be touched by an artist who will give it life, who will give it purpose, who will give it meaning.

Met at Bandolino’s for pizza and some drinks

So far I am thinkin’ that this blind date

really stinks

Perhaps I should give it a chance

I say to myself when my date

Orders booze from top of the shelf

“I’ll be okay,” she whispered as her hand roamed over Emily’s short satin nightgown. Easing the gown down from Emily’s breasts, Rachel leaned over and flicked her tongue over the nipple. Emily yelped in surprise, wanting to protest because this seemed wrong, but was unable to utter anything other than a moan.

Good friends are the ones who’ll light up a cig-ar

While the guys are out playin’ golf

You giggle and you whine over a tall glass of wine

And pretend it’s not just girl talk

The world’s problems are no problems when girls get together

And solve each and every one

Hell yes we could run a country after raisin’ a family

Don’t even think that we could not