Visitors from a vast vacationland follow their own hysteria to a perceived presence which is hauntingly housed throughout the shadowy streets of a storied city.
Wearing creative Halloween costumes countless hordes are drawn into an anticipation abyss, searching for lurking manifesting macabre and some semblance of sensory validation.
(Photo: Edward Roads -The Witch House in Salem).
Written by Edward Roads
The balding old man with an untidy fuzzy gray beard, wore muck stained blue jean overalls and scuffed laceless black work boots that snapped back to his heels when he walked.
Each autumn morning he pushed a quickly assembled display cart perfectly into place, which warmly welcomed an unwavering flow of wide-eyed fresh faces and loyal returning customers to his beloved farm stand.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
They once stood grand green and lush within their nurtured station, waggishly waving along with the oft warm breezes of summer as an unnoticing city occasionally strolled by.
It was now approaching sleepy season, so the caboodle of drowsy ferns with yellowing appetites huddled together preparing for the inevitable interlude which cued that same old winter song.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
I was walking a long narrow road intent on an afternoon of apple picking, when my soul became enveloped by a kaleidoscopic drapery of stirring seasonal illumination.
Millions of rustling leaves, singed with autumnal pageantry, had fallen neatly into a makeshift curb which lined my route through a dynamically dappled flume filled with a cornucopia of colorful wonderment.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Snugly bundled up under a stainless star filled sky, they slowly walked side by side consumed in conversation that allowed them to subtly taste the sweetness of each others clearly visible breath.
They didn’t remember where they came from or even where they were going, but when a moment of enchantment presented itself he removed his glove and gently held her hand, which not only warmed his heart, but also hers.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
On the old family backyard bench a very patient little red haired girl, wearing a lovely new white dress delicately trimmed in blue, sat perfectly straight with hands folded neatly in her lap.
A beaming smile instantly appeared on that round freckled face when the door she had been staring at finally opened revealing her proud mother, carrying her own mother’s beloved white hat complete with a matching blue ribbon.
Written by Edward Roads
Swirling contrails of orange and black were the wake of our flowing flight that flapped playfully above a lush green grass line as well as frolicking with row after row of prospering corn that stood straight like soldiers at attention.
When our delightful day of whimsical air stream serenading was over, my unpredictable pilot gently descended us with a fluttering fairytale softness upon a magnificent yellow landing pad.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The weathered woman behind the wood fence, who had performed many horticultural works of wonder, finally spotted her indispensable and previously misplaced whetted magic wand.
Those glorious grass stained gardening shears had a spongy black handle holding a bright blue oblong body with a very shiny, though completely worn out, pistachio shell-shaped springlock.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The distant sky blew cascading kisses of light from beyond the storm clouds and purposefully past the disrupting tree bough scions.
This receptive soul embraced the warmth as a sweven swept into my heart and flooded my empty being with a needed sanguine promise for tomorrow.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The long counter, where the children sat, was strewn with strawberry jam, powdered sugar, chocolate and an untouched single stack of napkins.
As each silver stool swiveled beneath them, it was obvious the kids were the quiet ones in an otherwise clamorous and caffeine fueled coffee shop.
Written by Edward Roads
The blind man wearing a faded blue fully buttoned polo waited mirthfully at the dusty bus stop for a ride back to the home.
His lighthearted presence with other potential passengers spoke of a day filled with sensory wonderment and a dauntless spirit for living life.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
It is fascinating yet disheartening that suppressed vitriol surfaces during festive events with nonthinking disgruntled relatives.
Unintended arrows housed in the family quiver stand poison poised awaiting a catalyst to ignite an inevitable launch that cannot be aborted.
(I awoke from this dream and jotted it down)
Written by Edward Roads
On a pleasantly warm and sun soaked summer afternoon they gathered together to celebrate as one.
The occasion wasn’t simply acknowledging this moment, but rather the enduring legacy of love and compassion that was respectfully marked by each lit candle.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The dear old woman had yellow flowers on her apron, droopy nylons and hands that felt like tissue paper.
Holding her cane while she got a better grip on the melting coconut ice cream cone put a smile on my face I won’t soon forget.
Written by Edward Roads
The banal little boy with too many toys came home each day to throw another away that didn’t define who he would be.
Eventually, the vacant man without a plan placed his favorite in the yard to stare at the sky and carry out the searching for him.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Mytwosentences 