Musings

Mytwosentences 147 (The Preston Tapley Chronicles)

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The clean light from zeitgeber and summer sunsplash welcomed Preston to the brownish beige grama of his recently acquired house lot like a safety flashlight in need of replacement batteries.
Upon hearing an oddly muffled ricochet sound, Mr. Tapley (who was unknowingly being observed) instinctively looked up to see the shrinking zenith of a deep blue sky that weirdly appeared to pull dark clouds inward from it’s pine tree periphery.
(Continued from Mytwosentences 146)
(Photo: Edward Roads)

Written by Edward Roads

Mytwosentences 146 (The Preston Tapley Chronicles)

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For Preston, clear emotion was the unusual presence of a minute droplet of moisture formed at the socket of his typically steadfast soul.
Dismissing this brief display as if matter-of-factly dealing cards for the next game of solitaire, he carefully checked each window one last time and cautiously got out of the cab to get a scoping view of his property.
(Continued from Mytwosentences 145)
(Photo: Edward Roads)

Written by Edward Roads

Mytwosentences 143

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A man wearing a silly little Zorro mask somehow snuck into a June get-together and placed a ribbon tied gift near an outdoor tv, which was showing a baseball game that everyone, and I mean everyone, was watching.
He confidently kissed the host, who didn’t have a clue who he was or why he was there, and effortlessly removed a lush red rose from it’s vased stem and strolled out of the fenced-in backyard with a fresh pocket flower and a dustless pair of blue cowboy boots.
(Photo: Edward Roads)

Written by Edward Roads

Mytwosentences 142 (side story continues)

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As I dealt with my discombobulated bearings, which were truly amiss,  I got an unexpected low hum in my ear that couldn’t possibly have come from anyplace else but the driveway.
I, in a dizzingly confused state, turned around apprehensively to drop to my battered knees and stare at a car that I think I remember from a horrifying night that my best friend died.
(Continued from Mytwosentences 135)
(Photo: Edward Roads)

Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 140

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Legend considered him a dashing scarlet pimpernel who could flawlessly wear a finely tailored silk suit while effortlessly grilling fresh bison beneath the endless blue skies of campestral South Dakota.
The face slap of reality spoke when his tolerant new bride calmly pointed out that his annoying hebetude had left their crowded backyard barbecue without sufficient propane gas or any dry matches.
(Photo: Edward Roads)

Written by Edward Roads

Mytwosentences 136

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The typically unfashionable girl who always wore stripes, but today wore a solid light blue blouse, asked her grumpy father why mom would not be dropped off by her colonge reeking, fakely handsome boss.
After putting on a marginally protective, overly worn oven mitt, the big smiling little girl pulled a perfectly reheated pizza out of a dirty oven and demanded they recycle the box.
(Photo: Edward Roads)

Written by Edward Roads

Mytwosentences 135 (side story continues)

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Summoning courage I had only known from campy tales with unconvincing characters, I hobbled over to the bulkhead door and haphazardly slid-open an unexpectedly loose deadbolt lock.
After flipping on a rusty, insufficient patio light, I stepped into the thick air of a perfectly still and obscenely quiet nightscape that provided a touch of solace, until the open door behind me slammed shut.
(Continued from Mytwosentences 134)
(Photo: Edward Roads)

Written by Edward Roads

Mytwosentences 134 (side story continues)

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When I pressed my glowering face against the cold window to get better focus, cheek and glass vibrated in consonance as resonating rumbles of thunder rolled low across a threatening sky.
Inside my muddled mind, a bone-dry sugarcane field burned and fusty senses turned tourbillion as a flash punch cracked the glass and snapped me back to the cellar floor.
(Continued from Mytwosentences 123)
(Photo: Edward Roads)

Written by Edward Roads

Mytwosentences 130

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The amative man with created red hair and a pocketless plaid jacket was about to hold the arm of a fubsy blind woman who was curiously smiling on a busy train platform.
As his pocked, hardened hand extended in a cordial show of support, the menial mystery of his lost reading glasses appeared snugly in the caring clutch of a perceptive, unbusy lady named Rose.
(Photo: Edward Roads)

Written by Edward Roads

Mytwosentences 128

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A tiny woman with work-a-day dirt on her face demanded the wagon train stop before the next filthy man with a half empty bottle of whiskey spit out the usual semi-coherent blah blah blah that meant stop.
As so called frontier beans were slowly heating above yet another fire, lurking scoundrels began running beyond the spinning spoked wheels which rolled with a rickety rack towards the many unclaimed parcels of land that were up for grabs.
(Photo: Edward Roads)

Written by Edward Roads

Mytwosentences 127

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He didn’t know, he never knew, he just sat in his saved seat day after day and sipped a delicate promise for tomorrow.
I asked him his name and where he was from and he
gleefully gave me a glassy eyed ‘see you tomorrow’ which came with
a hug that felt like a true taste of yesterday and what was expected of each and every one of us.
(Photo: Edward Roads)

Written by Edward Roads

Mytwosentences 123 (side story continues)

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As I wiped drying drops of blood off my brow, numbing knees briefly held me in place while the enigmatic figure unlocked his lamp-like eyes from mine to turn and point into the darkness.
While choking on my pounding heart, which was throwing itself against my chest, the retreating silhouette dissolved into the nighttide revealing the incomprehensible sight of a cemetery entrance that simply didn’t exist.
(Continued from Mytwosentences 122)
(Photo: Edward Roads)

Written by Edward Roads

Mytwosentences 122 (side story continues)

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I somehow found my whereabouts and noticed a deformed, almost chinless man gesturing me through the tiny cellar window.
I got to my feet and slowly made my way to the back end of the partially lit cellar and slipped on what appeared to be fresh blood dripping from the ceiling.
(Continued from Mytwosentences 47)
(Photo: Edward Roads)

Written by Edward Roads