Adults

We watched Steve play craps last night; he said we brought him luck.
Now we sat at the hotel breakfast table.
Gloria, Irv, Nancy, Steve, Sharon, Me.
Introductions concluded. New friends made.
Bagels buttered.
Sunshine poured down over the Caribbean. Divi-divi trees twisted southwesterly.
""Where are you from?""
""Union."" ""Hillsborough."" ""West Orange.""
“West Orange?” Irv queried.
“Yes,” I answered.
“I have a cousin who lives there.” Irv announced. “Dorothy Goldberg.”
“That’s my mother!”

Four-year old Drew ran into the house crying and holding a book.

""What's wrong?"" asked Dad.

""Teacher gave this book to have you read to me.  Waaah!  It has pictures.  I hate picture books!  They are for babies.  Why I read this book to Lukey last week.  He likes the pictures.  I don't like someone reading to me.  I read to myself.  And no pictures!"

Jed and I walked toward the tree on solid ground.
We almost got there.  But we had to turn back.
Coming back, I carried Jed.  He was hurt bad.
The ground was now very moist with grey mounds to climb over.
I carried Jed to the trees where we started.  I buried him there.
In the rain we walked away.  What will I tell Jed’s mama?

This was a life changing decision. It had been love at first sight. Something this good only came once.

Dad wouldn’t approve. Won’t like his breed, a nocturnal predator, not known for intelligence.

What of children? Mother knew his kind. So macho, so independent, only paying attention to you and your offspring when it suited.

Breathing deeply, she braced to battle for her chosen companion.

“A cat? You want to adopt a cat?”

When Troy realized he had reached the ultimate level of humanity and that this was his last rodeo on earth, his euphoria quickly turned to panic.

With each reincarnation, he had worked at perfecting himself; honesty, patience, empathy were all at peak levels.  

Now he had to figure out how to undo all the goodness he had worked lifetimes to perfect in himself.  

How on earth was he going to ensure his return?

Bob, a Vietnam Veteran, was seated at the counter.   He didn’t acknowledge the suspicious looking man when he sat down the far end.

The man motioned my way.

“M’am”, he said, “I'm buying that hero his lunch.”

I caught a final glimpse of the man as he exited the dinner.  Seeing his prosthetic legs and the bright purple heart logo embroidered on his ball cap, I’m embarrassed that I judged him.

He rolled over to his belly, evaluated the options. Exhausted from fighting. He lifted his heavy head, scanned the room. Searched for help.
        In the distance, another, he screamed, clawed at the floor.
        The woman sat un-moving. Hope faded away. Surrendered, he lowered, eyes shut to sleep.
        She placed the blanket on his back, then sat back down to keep vigil. Watched as her beautiful baby napped, peacefully, after a valiant fight.

Tenth birthday.  Everyone knows it's my big day. Just throw my ball.  You, then you, then you.  Everyone gets to throw. 
Mom ignores me as she hands out the drinks.  Dad tells his silly jokes.  Baby tosses the ball too far and I cannot reach it.  Neighbor thankfully kicks it back within reach.
I quickly snatch my great smelling, wet new ball, sigh and happily plop in the corner. Happy birthday to ME.

THE FIRST MONDAY OF EVERY MONTH. MY HEAD IS REALLY SPINNING AFTER LAST NIGHT .  ONE DAY A MONTH MIGHT BE THE SOLUTION. IT HAS REALLY KNOCKED ME OFF MY FEET COMING ON SO SUDDEN LIKE IT DID.
BUT IF ONE DAY A MONTH  IS WHAT SHE WANTS, THEN LET IT BE. AFTER ALL I GOT TO MAKE HER HAPPY. THE DOCTOR IS ALWAYS RIGHT AND VERTIGO IS NOTHING TO PLAY AROUND WITH.

The sphere rushed towards him at an incredible speed. In front of him were two warriors. The one nearest him wore an outfit that included a mask and a padded leathery article on one hand. The second warrior simply wielded a swinging stick to ward off these projectiles – but missed.
    The projectile hit the leathery protector with a resounding “thud” cueing the man to respond with the all familiar “Strike three, ‘yer out!”