Fiction and life . . . from the desk of Gwen M. Plano
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A final dance. . .

7/29/2020

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Author  Suzanne Burke  offers another photo prompt and invites readers to respond through prose or poetry. Her “Fiction in A Flash Challenge” image for this week is an old pier.

As I looked at the photo, I imagined dancing on the pier with a lover and then returning at a much later date alone. The image carries sadness for me and the movement of time. I tried to capture those sentiments in my poem. 
 
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A gallon of water...

7/27/2020

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I was driving an old U-Haul truck from Davis, California to Irvine going south on Interstate 5, when things went terribly wrong.

Packed with everything I owned, the truck lumbered up and down hills until it found its pace in the San Joaquin Valley. A few hours into the journey, I felt rather good about myself. I had just accepted a new position in Irvine, and it seemed that everything was working out perfectly. I had sold my home and found another, and soon I would be living within an easy drive to family.

All was well until the truck’s warning lights flashed and steam started rising from the hood.

My usual response to any car problem was to call my dad. But I didn’t want to do that. I knew what he would say. After a barely audible mumble, he’d ask. “You didn’t bring water?!” In my defense, I didn't know that Bakersfield is hot, very hot, in July. A phone call would mean a confession, and I was too proud to admit that I simply had forgotten to bring water. I quickly pulled over to a nearby rest stop.

While steam hissed from the radiator, I paced and fought back all the nasty things I wanted to say to the U-Haul guy who assigned me the truck. Beads of sweat quickly evaporated in the 115 degree temperature and I was miserable. I spun around to look for shade and noticed a water fountain. An answer to prayer? I looked in the cab for a container and found none. I checked the trash bins, but they were recently emptied. Then it hit me, I had no way to carry water.

I was nursing my despair on the curbside when an older couple drove into the parking spot next to my truck. Seeing my distress, the gentleman came over and asked if I needed help.

I started to explain my drama, how I was peacefully driving down the freeway when the warning lights went off and then and then… I paused. I realized that the gentleman’s eyes had glazed. I quickly responded, “Yes, sir, I need help.”

He walked back to his car and returned with a gallon of water. “You know ma’am, you should always travel with water.” I nodded and thought of dad. This was a lesson I would never forget.   
The couple disappeared for a few minutes and then returned to their car. Before leaving, the elderly gentleman explained what I needed to do after the steam subsided and wished me well. I thanked him profusely for his help and especially for the gallon of water.

I thought of this roadside encounter as I watched the news this morning. With all the chaos and noise that surrounds us, it is easy to forget the goodness of people. I’ve often wondered about the kind Black gentleman who came to my aid that summer day. Could he have been an angel?  

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The cabin in the trees...

7/22/2020

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Author  Suzanne Burke  offers another photo prompt and invites readers to respond through prose or poetry. Her “Fiction in A Flash Challenge” image for this week is a tree house. As I thought about the photo, I imagined a child looking out a window, and so my story begins. 

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“Grandma, I see a cabin in the trees.”

“You’ve not seen it before?”

“No. Was it there?”

“Yes. Your granddad built it.”

“He did? Why?”

“When he got home from the Vietnam War, he decided to build a house in the trees.”

“But, why?”

“He said he wanted to be near the birds.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Your granddad kept hearing things that he didn’t want to hear.”

“Like what, grandma?”

“Explosions, gun shots, yelling. At first, he’d climb into the trees and sit there by himself.”

“What did he hear up there?”

“The birds. He told me he never heard a bird sing when he was in Vietnam.”

“And, he missed them?”

“I suspect so, but I also think their songs helped him with the other things he was hearing.”

“Can I go up to the cabin, grandma?”

“Well…I guess so. I’ll go with you. I haven’t been up there for years.”

The child grabs hold of her wrinkled hand and walks with her through the grassy field behind the house to a clearing. She brushes aside the overgrowth as she steps onto a suspension bridge. They silently walk across the bridge to the cabin. Once inside, she takes a deep, slow breath. Not much has changed, she thinks.

The child rushes to a pile of papers and picks up an old photograph. “Grandma, grandma. Look what I found.”  

“Oh my. I’ve looked many times for this old picture.” Pointing to the three men in the image, she explains. “The middle one is your granddad. The other two were his best friends. They never came home.”

“Why not?”

“They were killed in the war. Sometimes your granddad thought he could hear them when he sat outside. Shall we go out to the deck and listen?”  

The two walk outside the cabin to the old metal chairs, now covered with mold and bird droppings. Grandma uses her apron to wipe them off.

“This is where granddad sat?”

“Yes. Sometimes I joined him.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Nothing and everything. Let’s be quiet and listen. You just might hear him whisper.”

The child looks over to grandma. She has closed her eyes and tilted her head upwards towards the sky. Following her lead, he shuts his eyes and listens. After a while, he smiles.

“Grandma, I heard it.”

“What, child?”

“Everything.”
trees speak in the breeze
while birds sing nature's glory
be still and listen
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The Road. . .

7/15/2020

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Author  Suzanne Burke  offers another photo prompt and invites readers to respond through prose or poetry. Her “Fiction in A Flash Challenge” image for this week is a little girl walking away from us. The child holds a large stuffed lion.

There is much communicated in this photo. Sadness, isolation, maybe homelessness. Where are the parents, the adults who could help her? As I stared at the image, I was brought back to the morning news of a one-year-old shot in Brooklyn, NY the night before. My heart aches for this little one's family and friends, but also for those who engage in senseless violence.

​Must it take a baby to help us realize we are one family? 
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Finding HOPE

7/7/2020

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Author  Suzanne Burke  offers a weekly photo prompt and invites readers to respond through prose or poetry. Her “Fiction in A Flash Challenge” image for this week is a lighthouse. If you'd like to join in the fun, just click on her name and you'll be taken to her website. There you'll find instructions and encouragement. 

As I studied the prompt, I thought of storms at sea and sailors helped to safety. Then I thought of you and me, finding our way through a squall of threats and conspiracies. Not so surprisingly, I found hope in the one Light that is never dimmed completely.  

​I hope you enjoy my Haiku contribution: 
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​If you'd like to know more about author Suzanne Burke, a good place to begin your search is Amazon.

I strongly recommend Empty Chairs. It is one of the most powerful books I've ever read. With more than 500 5-Star reviews, it has garnered the respect and love of many. 


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Thank you for your service...

7/4/2020

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The Fourth of July was a favorite holiday of my parents. Both of them proudly served during WWII, mom as a "Rosie the Riveter", dad in the Navy. They were modest people and rarely talked about their experience, but their respect for our country was apparent. Like many in the Fifties, they had little but gave everything. They lived their truth and it became mine. 

No matter where we live, we have traveled through sorrows and joys to arrive at this one defining moment. With fireworks blasting and riots threatening, we hope and pray for a tomorrow that unites and does not divide. So it is that in the midst of confusion and violence, I pause and offer thanksgiving to all who serve.

Thank you - to my husband and brother and brother-in-laws for their service during Vietnam. Thank you - to all my cousins and nephews who serve or have served in the Middle East. Thank you - to my nephew in the Border Patrol and to my nephews who serve or have served in the police force. Thank you - to all those in my extended family who are or were in the medical profession. Thank you - to those teachers in the family who are trying to make a difference.

Thank you - to all near and far who have withstood hardship, embraced sacrifice, and held tight to hope - for our country, for our families, and for our tomorrows. 
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Papa love....

7/1/2020

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Author Suzanne Burke provides a weekly “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!” prompt and invites interested folks to respond. This week's image is of a father and his baby. If you are interested, please go to her website for details and suggestions. 

My contribution is a Haiku poem, a 3-lined poem characterized by 17 syllables. When I saw the photo, a song began playing over and over in my thoughts. My dad would sing this song and perhaps your father did as well. It begins: Hush little baby, don’t say a word; Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird...  
 
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Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way. ―Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning


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