The rain began from an almost cloudless sky and Allie stood straight up and looked Zenobia directly in the eye.
(Baby Stella began to cry) Allie, shivering and without tense, reached out and hugged this person whom she never met… a cover was draped upon Allie, but her shivering didn’t stop… nor did Stella’s cry.
Written by Edward Roads
Whirlwind thoughts slammed hard… her disgusting father was dead, her loving, although distracted mother was dead, her baby was dead… she disembarked, actually fell, onto Brigadoon without the culture and grace of the bird who brought her there.
Zenobia slowly crept toward Allie, who was now facedown and unconscious; everything was about to begin.
Written by Edward Roads
Sticky and gooey smooth oozed down both sides of her shivering cheeks… she ate another gooseberry, then another… Allie’s strength was coming back.
She turned and ran down the beach to gather her clothes… then quickly back up to the top of the berm where she tossed her sandy, wet clothes into the warm, wavy grass to dry… that’s when she saw a huge spotted gray sea bird rapidly descending toward her.
Written by Edward Roads
“Mam, you need to have your papers ready, and please, if you don’t mind, remove your hand from my table.”
Allie, who was noticeably ripe and well past exhausted, slammed her other hand down and clamored, “Help me, for christ sake, please”… then her bloodshot blues rolled up to all white, and she collapsed.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Their corner of the neighborhood had a palpable pulse and seemed to breathe life into the early morning, even before lines formed to join the bulging sea of bakery chatter, endless cups of fresh coffee and delicious warm pastry.
The simple charms of community, once on daily display, had given way to fingerprints and faceless face smudges, nothing more than glass tombstones in an unforgiving domain gravid with interloping greed.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The one thing he repeatedly told her, way back in their not so splended when, was to never overplay her hand, regardless of where it was dealt.
Fresh out of an unsettling six year stint at Greengrove max, she took a couple of unpositive steps forward, slung a faded denim knapsack over her left shoulder and for the first time in more than a bit, began again.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
She never consented.
He couldn’t run from his shame.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
After he carefully slid into a somewhat snug space in a perfectly pish-posh section of town, J, not Gatsby mind you, but Gunther, proudly emerged from his polished blue automagical chariot and showered himself in what could only be described as impeccable sunshine.
As soon as the one time cool, now completely off the charts cool car door was closed behind him, the entire day, for that matter any day from this point forward, was his to tether, take and twist.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Holding the ballot in my free hand, I purposefully pulled a colorful linen curtain to the side and slipped into a makeshift, fiberglass voting booth that exoterically resembled a motel step-in shower stall.
As I reached for the partially chewed scepter of expression, I was summarily slapped in the face by the grandeur of this dutiful moment and the inherent limitation of my simple station.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The formal yellow and black tie event was hosted by the royalty of the workers union to address a swarm of concerns associated with questionable colony conditions and monotonous job descriptions.
A collection of bumbling scaramouch characters, feeling the assembly was droning on and accomplishing nothing, imbibed at the open nectar bar only to later embarrass themselves by passing out on a distant patio.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Lost souls from a yesterday not so long ago walk along a path chosen for them by a brick-and-mortar generation who attempted to understand the direction one might eventually take.
The horizontal wall was carefully constructed as a passage of protection covering the frail, earthly soft textures that were once exposed to coarse elements of an environment continuously moving on the surface.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The very chic yet empathetic woman wore a saturated black velvet hat, smeared fire engine red lipstick and ruined white silk gloves that stretched beyond her elbows.
A rather vacuous driver frantically searched for a way into the opulent white limousine where keys remained in the ignition and a dry umbrella sat untouched on the side leather seat.
Written by Edward Roads
This morning I noticed several stones had fallen out of favor with a well-built wall whose fortification bound the breadth of the rolling hillside.
Perhaps the sunder rocks were withering masonry misfits that got pushed aside by the special strength of resplendent sunbeams.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The yellow and brown flowered comforter on the queen bed closely matched the drawn drapes at the open window next to a single reclining chair.
Straight line shadows on a plain painted wall scream silently from the spot where only yesterday bad motel art secreted an exquisite sixteenth century frame.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
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
Mytwosentences 