"Those were hard things for me to come by, and I offer them to you for what they may be worth." - Toby Wolff

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Stone Aged Loneliness

The cabin stood with the longevity of a world wonder. It was as if each stone had emigrated from a foreign land and drawn together out of a need for community. Having held the same footprint for centuries, the structure was stalwart, unwavering, unwilling to concede any ground to decay or progress.  The moon would rise soon enough, feeling no jealousy over the hours it was not luminary. Though brighter, the sun could never paint the water as beautifully, and every celestial body knew it. Here, at the edge of infinity, the only other illumination would be whatever wood, oil or wax a match was struck against.

The old man was unconcerned of wattage or time. His line was cast and the boulder on which he sat was the lesser twin to the one he leaned his back upon.  Soft, cushy places never gave him much leverage, and they seemed to foster an apathy he just couldn't stomach any longer. His line was slack, but he craved the pull. Tension meant there was something on the other end worth fighting for, and life had been flaccid far too long.

There was a quiet that had settled here, long before stone upon stone built human boundaries. That same quiet was a megaphone to anything out of the ordinary. The "driveway", a worn dirt path speckled with gravel and bird shit, announced arrivals as rarely as a holiday, and were just about as unwelcome. But loneliness drove a hard bargain and after a lengthening decade, he was ready to dicker. When he heard tires crunch a hesitant beat to the symphony of encroaching night...something in his gut quickened. He didn't care who it was, or how long gone, or how long stayin'. Everything suddenly went taut...and it felt damn good.


  1. Loneliness...

    Annie... when I was just a kid, there was a series of books that were in the library of the elementary school l attended. They had some great books of mythology... Greek... Roman... really great reading for a kid like me.

    One of the stories that stuck with me was 'Aladdin's Lamp' or something like that. It seems there were several different versions of it.

    The one version with which I am familiar was told more from the genie's perspective than most stories I had heard or read.

    In this version, the lamp is found, and the genie is freed... and things don't bode well for the fellow who released the genie.

    The genie tells this fellow that he intends to kill him. The genie tells of the endless eons of time that he had spent pent up inside the lamp. He promised great riches to the person who would free him... but a considerable amount of time passed. Then the genie promises a beautiful wife and considerable riches to the person who would free him, but nothing happens and a greater eon passes. Finally after thousands and thousands and thousands of years, the genie is so angry... so mad... that he hasn't been freed that he promises a horrible and violent Death to the one that finally releases him.

    And of course, someone does come along and frees the genie... only to have the genie threaten him with the grizzly death...

    The genie is finagled into granting a wish to the fellow that he intends to kill... and the wish is for the genie to show how he was able to get back into the lamp... being bound by the wish, the genie does that... returns to the lamp... and the fellow quickly seals the lamp up so the genie can not escape.

    Moral of the story? Hell, Annie... I don't know, but that genie had so wanted to be free... and not confined... and when an opportunity came by, the genie blew it...

    I'm not sure why I thought of this story, but I did..

    I hope all is going ok for you, sweetie...


    1. That story should be titled FRUSTRATION. It's difficult to live rightly amidst disappointment and expectation. Somehow the moral should surround living in the moment...in the bottle or out. We can't expect that our good life depends on the one who let's us out or binds us. Easier said than done of course. But I know for me...living well now...8:54 Am on December 19, 2013 is a goal. 8:55 is the next.... (hugs)!

  2. Wow! this is truly the illumination of a searching mind and a sadly broken heart.

    I know you've walked on a rough gravel road this past year and I hope this was the beginnings of a purge of sorts

    wish you well mi amiga

    oh by the way, this was exceptional writing


    1. Thank you Marcoantonio! I think sadly broken hearts search the hardest. They dig and scrape and forage for nourishment. And from this effort comes art, in all it's various forms :)

  3. The story is wonderful. I know this similar place and the old man well..

    1. Then maybe you could paint an appropriate image accompaniment. I wish I could actually find such a place. It's haunting. It's cold. But it withstands. Thanks Anthony :)

  4. Oh boy Annie, now that's a re-entry worthy of first place. Your descriptions are all both physical and emotional

    Welcome back to blogging? I hope so. I've missed the writing life with you (and Chris and Amy and Erin and Ben and et al)

    Love still

    1. Back??? I don't know. One day at a time. My creativity has been lacking in terms of poetry. Maybe a fiction journey will be helpful :) I think of you often in Provincetown. I think more than I look because...well, sometimes it feels like window shopping for things I can't have.

      Love still too!

  5. Hello, friend. I wanted to stop by and thank you for being a part of my blog in 2013. You have been a blessing to me. For the coming year, I have a few wishes for you.

    May 2014 bring you much joy.
    May we all have peace in our homes,
    laughter by our firesides,
    time spent with family,
    and contentment in our hearts.
    Be well, my friend.

  6. I know how you feel. Love & Hugs, my friend. xoxo

  7. I love this, so rich and beautifully layered. "and life had been flaccid too long" I actually gasped aloud. Masterful and profoundly moving


Thank you for listening.