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Why I Write
When I write, I draw on my experiences as a woman with a painful past, a rapturous wife and mother, a world traveler, and a spiritualist. For me, writing is an art form. Like an artist, the work becomes more than I imagined it would be. When I set out to write a story with a particular idea or character in mind, words I cannot claim as my own flow from a magical and mysterious place through me and onto paper. The work takes on a life of its own; it is living art. The process fascinates me, satiates me, and makes my life more meaningful.
Please read my stories! If you would like to offer me feedback on my work, please click here and sign up for a free membership: https://heftynicki.Writing.com
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My 15 For 15 Entries 9/18- 10/2/09 - #669250 added September 25, 2009 at 3:19pm
Restrictions: None
September 25 - Bears
"Give it back!" Johnny squealed, tugging on the handheld video game system in his older sister's hands.
"Would you knock it off," Lydia grumbled. She twisted around to face the window as much as the seatbelt would allow.
"Mom!" Johnny shouted.
My hands went to my temples where I massaged tiny circles around the tight skin. This vacation was getting long by the minute. What day was this? My God, had we only been in the car two days? I wasn't sure any of us could take a whole week of family time. Had Chuck and I lost our minds, thinking it would be a good idea to veer from the traveled-and-true vacation route that usually brought us to the timeshare at the beach? Oh honey, let's road trip this year, go to the mountains, rough it. Rough it? How could that have seemed like a good idea--
"MOM!"
"Okay, you two. If you can't share that DS, I'll take it away." Wow. My voice sounded so calm and controlled...even though I was this close to losing it. I smiled.
"How the hell can you look so happy when the kids are being so noisy?" Chuck asked me. He glared into the rearview mirror. "Quiet down back there!" he roared. A vein bulged in his temple and I had the insane temptation to reach over and rub circles around it.
Mesmerized by Chuck's temple, I didn't see the animals in the road. When Chuck slammed on the brakes, my relaxed body slid forward and would have hit the dash had it been 1979 and I weren't wearing my seat belt.
When I followed Chuck's stunned gaze, I saw the bear cubs in the middle of the road.
"Whoa!" the kids said in hushed voices.
"Those are Grizzly cubs, kids," Chuck said in a knowledgable tone. "Aren't they something?"
Lydia started opening her door. "I'm gonna get a closer look."
"NO!" I shouted in unison with Chuck. Lydia gave us a weary, oh-please-you-guys-are-losers look and closed her door.
"What's the big deal?" she grumbled.
Just then, the cubs reared up on their back legs and the heftier one swatted at the slimmer one. "Oh look," Chuck said, "they must be brother and sister."
Everyone laughed but me. All too aware of how grouchy I felt a moment ago when my kids were arguing, I thought to myself, If those two cubs are siblings, that only means one thing...
My family jumped at the thunderous, grouchy growl behind our car, but I simply said, "Chuck, when I sound like that you guys leave me alone. I suggest we do the same for her."
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