Comments Posted By Blythe
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There was a terrible drought, and famine spread across the land like a plague. No one could believe just that short 6 months ago we were a thriving people group, with plentiful resources. Crazy what unexpected things can do to cripple you.
» Posted By Blythe On 09.16.2013 @ 7:50 pm
She held her breath as he held her close. The weight of the world– like a ton of bricks–lifted off her pale, beautiful, paper thin shoulders. She was fragile. She was damaged. But, none of that mattered when she fell into his arms. The moonlight caressed her tear-stained cheeks, a wisp of hair falling gently across her lashes. She was safe here. She was broken, but so was he. And, she was safe–truly safe–from the man she once promised her life to. At that moment, the dam inside her broke. And, she sobbed. She sobbed for the pain. She sobbed for her loss. She sobbed for him. But, most of all, she sobbed a sense of freedom and hope. A sweet release from the hell she’d been in. And, for the heavenly arms that now held her. So close. So tightly. And, yet, so gentle. This could be love, had she anything left to give.
» Posted By Blythe On 03.22.2013 @ 6:02 pm
It was a swell day. I use swell loosely of course, I mean, it is England, and of course it’s raining. But it was warm and it was the weekend and everyone was cheerful and it was, yes, quite swell. I just feel this happiness sort of envelope me this day.
» Posted By Blythe On 01.30.2013 @ 1:08 pm
This visitor was different from the others, apart from the fact that I didn’t know. A different vibe emanated from her small, frail body. She must have been between seventeen and eighteen, although she had a look in her cold, dead eyes as though she had experienced much more than your average adolescent. She said her name was Lae, that she hoped I would feel better soon, and then left.
» Posted By Blythe On 01.28.2013 @ 1:19 pm
talking blah blah blah hello my name is….. let me tell you something. eat lots of food, speaking is the language of the tongue. glue . fell, feel, seal the deal
» Posted By Blythe On 01.14.2013 @ 6:50 pm
I wasn’t sure why this was happening. It had felt so right at the time. But, not? It felt so wrong. All the fights, all the late nights on the couch and crying myself to sleep. It all seemed so progressive…and, yet, so natural. Was she really going to take this path? What if they didn’t approve? What if he changed? What if this was just what it meant to be married? ‘No.’ She silenced the voices in her head, and spoke words of authority over such lies. This was the path she was taking, and it wasn’t their life. She would never truly believe he had changed, and this wasn’t a marriage. The silence screamed through the darkness, distracting her ever cloudy thoughts. She was better than this. She deserved better. She was better. Maybe those moments had to teach her something she wouldn’t have known otherwise. Maybe she was delusional. Maybe this was all a dream. But, she had to take the jump. Only one person was going to save her at this moment—only one person was going to walk away. And, that was herself.
» Posted By Blythe On 11.06.2012 @ 6:25 pm
It was her moment to come forth, speaking from her heart, as her mind raced with the possibilities. She didn’t know how or what to say, but she knew if she never said these things, he would be forever lost, and she would be the only one to blame. “Now,” she thought, “Just say it.” But, as she watched him turn and walk away into the drizzling night, she couldn’t find the words. She leaned against the building, sick to her stomach, knowing that would be the last time she would ever see him.
» Posted By Blythe On 10.22.2012 @ 10:00 pm
It seemed odd. The various items scattered about the house reminded her of a time machine. Walking through that monstrous door, she felt swallowed by the entryway. The vintage curtains blew in the wind, the windows mellowing that dusty, ancient smell. Walking from room to room she discovered another piece of that past life—an antique grandfather clock that needed winding, an outdated pair of shoes, and a library. The smell of old books was her favorite, and as she was drawn by the years of knowledge and stories buried in this back room, she felt at home. Touching the bindings, wiping the dust, reading the titles, she stared, each one a piece of history. She smiled, lighting the oil lamp that lie on the neatly organized desk arranged so eloquently in the corner. She didn’t know how long she had been here, but she knew she never wanted to leave.
» Posted By Blythe On 10.03.2012 @ 10:33 pm
She shuttered in awe of what she was about to experience. Watching the dust combine with the swirling air, it was but mere seconds before she would join them, forever swept away in this violent wonder. She tried to run, but felt her feet being pulled against the direction she wished to be heading. She panicked, fear sweeping her body. And, just before the magnificent force of nature took her, she smiled; she laughed. He knows now it was for him. She wanted that to be the last picture of her to remember. Walking by her casket, he couldn’t look. Not now. Not ever. That terrified smile was how she wished to be remembered. And, that was how he would honor her.
» Posted By Blythe On 10.02.2012 @ 8:27 pm
She could see the writing on the wall—all the signs were there. The secrecy, the carefully woven lies—all the deceitful words and dishonest actions—was it all a lie? Everything she knew was crashing in a matter of moments as she sat, listening the voluptuous voice on the other end of the line. How long? How often? When? Where? As the voice carried on melodically on the other end of the phone, each new found lie was another stab to her already broken heart. He had chosen her—that homewrecker—over herself, over the kids—over their family. And, that’s what hurt the most. How could she be so stupid? So, so stupid.
» Posted By Blythe On 10.01.2012 @ 8:13 pm
She wanted to start, but felt trapped—trapped by her mind, limited by her body—it all seemed so unreal. The booming speakers began their countdown, and with it, all those beside her shouted as the moment became more and more of a dream. “10…9…8…” Her heart began to race. “…7…6…5…” Her mind raced with the impossibilities of the task so close at hand. “…4…3…” The seconds dragged by, as she positioned herself at the start. “…2…1…” And, with that, she heard the starting gun go off. People whizzed by her, her body frozen in time. This was it—the moment of truth. The only thing that lay between her and the finish line was 26.2 miles, her lack of training, and the doubts in her mind. The moment of truth, and the only way to prove to herself, and all her fellow doubters, was to begin, stopping for nothing until she crossed that finish line. With that, she took the first step of her 52,096 step journey.
» Posted By Blythe On 09.20.2012 @ 9:08 pm
They stared. Not because they felt sorry. Not even because they cared. But, the jealousy behind their eyes told their story. Despite her young age, she had the courage to stand for what she believed. And, them? They cowered behind their upscale clothes and behind the one thing she had given up: their hair. They looked away as she glanced, holding her head high, despite the unbecoming appearance that had taken over her round face. A little, sick girl had hair. And, her? She had her pride. She stared once more in their direction, daring each to say the smallest remark, before she turned, walking away, leaving them to ponder what they had truly accomplished with their lives and if it had really mattered.
» Posted By Blythe On 09.18.2012 @ 7:59 pm
Crossing that finish line she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so alive. Six months? Twelve months? The emotions overwhelmed her as she thought of where she was, and how far she had come. It had to be almost two and a half years…before she had met him. Before he’d taken everything she had; before he’d beaten her down into nothing—no self-worth, no self-esteem…before the eating disorders, the alcoholism, and the smoking. She smiled, the tears brimming her tired eyes. Twenty-six point two. He said she would be nothing—that she was nothing. And, he was wrong. And, she knew that.
» Posted By Blythe On 09.16.2012 @ 9:33 pm
She entered the room, and the sudden tranquility brought tears to her eyes. Why here, why now, she did not know. But, the beauty of the sounds, dim lights, and mystical waves engulfed her. After her recent miscarriage, she needed a break—a break from home, a break from work—a break from life. The spa attendants began working their magic, and she was free—not forever, or even for the day—but, for an hour, she was free. Running to her blue Suburban through the pouring rain, the tears returned. She sat there, the only car in the lot, and sobbed.
» Posted By Blythe On 09.09.2012 @ 9:10 pm
It’s only been four weeks, and yet she tires of such feelings of inadequacy and failure. How was it others made married life seem so easy? Maybe it was that her husband looked at her as a mistake. Or, maybe he wished she was her—his ex-wife, that was. Why was it they seemed to have no sex life? Young and newlywed, she imagined a life of glamorous and exotic intimacy; yet, it seemed he couldn’t get it up, or keep it up. Was it her? Was she the problem? Was she not pretty enough? Not sexy enough? Yes, that must be it. She sat on the couch that night, crying, wondering where she failed and why she wasn’t good enough anymore. Drawing the razor across her arms, she released a hint of the inner pain, proving she was as weak as ever, and, maybe, it was her weakness that he despised so much.
» Posted By Blythe On 11.05.2011 @ 6:43 pm
The ashes fell from what seemed to be the heavens above, peppering the ground as if seasoning this horrid beginning. She didn’t know what to think of such an awful place. People so thin and sickly, and the stench was terrible. But, that pepper from the skies…could it be? She had heard stories, but could not imagine such a cruel world. No, this was not hell. It was far worse—it was Auschwitz.
» Posted By Blythe On 09.03.2011 @ 11:12 pm
SOFT LOVELT MATERIAL WORMS ALSO CREAT THIS SOFT SOFT MATERIAL FUNNY THAT!!
IT’S USED FOR MANY things….i like silk i do except it creases a lot and loks
» Posted By blythe On 08.24.2011 @ 8:50 am
Lightning struck his face like a vicious blow with every vindictive word she threw his way. Worthless, nothing… What if this was all they had become? What if this is all they were? What if this was all they had always been, and he was too blinded by the faceless words of love? He coveted her honesty, but could not force himself to be so faithless in this desperate time. It seemed, for the first time, he heard every word she spoke. And, what she was saying is, “Goodbye.”
» Posted By Blythe On 07.25.2011 @ 2:22 pm
I hated her. She was pathetic and terrible; manipulative and worthless. She had used him. She had used the one before him; and, the one after. I thought of all the things I would say to her if I ever were to come face-to-face to her. I rehearsed the lines over and over again, sometimes in my head; other times, out loud, in front of a mirror, or while driving. And, here I stood, face-to-face, toe-to-toe, and all I could do was smile, and tell her how wonderful it was to finally meet her. A few weeks later, it happened, as if we couldn’t predict it—he left her—her husband, that is. He said he couldn’t handle the stress. I figured I didn’t blame him. I couldn’t handle the stress of an unfaithful wife. If she’d ever put those open legs to good use, she may actually be able to support her family, I mean, since she was doing it anyway.
» Posted By Blythe On 06.20.2011 @ 11:49 pm
The belief that she would wake up without a hangover was impossible. She was on a mission and was close to accomplishing such when he approached her. His face was gentle and kind—almost angelic, even. She went with him, with no more of a choice than a lamb being led to the slaughter house. Her inability to decipher the good from the bad allowed her rash and inconsiderable lack of judgment to fill her choices. Walking outside, he hailed a taxi, put her inside it, and gave the man an address with some money. He seemed familiar—why couldn’t she place his face? Was it the alcohol? Was he a star-crossed lover from another life? But, in the morning she would find her answer sitting at the kitchen table. And, she will be grounded.
» Posted By Blythe On 06.18.2011 @ 6:53 pm
I often wonder about that day. What he was thinking and why I hadn’t taken the time to notice the brokenness and emptiness in his eyes. Maybe if I hadn’t been so busy with my life, going through the monotonous and mundane tasks of work and meaningless friendships, I would have noticed the scars that shattered his perfect, tan arms or the whiskey on his breath with every encounter. With the whiskey on my breathe, the salty tears staining my lips, I sit at his grave, knowing I could have been the difference.
» Posted By Blythe On 06.17.2011 @ 11:57 pm
The song made her smile…and, cry. Driving through the flat terrain of the Indiana state, she sobbed, lip singing every word, the salty tears sliding down her cheeks, an occasional one kissing her satin, red lips, before continuing its journey downward. “Oh, to find such a love as that,” she whispered into the cold air caressing her gently, young cheeks.
» Posted By Blythe On 06.17.2011 @ 2:56 am
His beloved bride was slipping away in front of his eyes. Holding her hand, he spoke sweetly and softly, into her ears. He knew he didn’t have long; tears filled his eyes, and he kissed her beautiful lips. Taking her last breath, she thanked him for being her loyal and faithful husband for the fifty-six years they had been together. There was an eerie silence that filled the halls of the hospital on the night that Ms. Abigail Swanson died.
» Posted By Blythe On 06.12.2011 @ 8:19 pm
There we sat, just him and I, the two of us, as lifeless as the one we had just received news of. He was a quiet man, but well-spoken, and far more well-versed than those I had known in many another life. We sat there, him and I, in deathly silence. We were expected to attend the funeral of what may have been the greatest man to live—our father. And, yet, the obligation called, but we felt nothing. It was not the emptiness of shock, but simply that fact that we had never known him. And, there we sat, just him and I, the two of us.
» Posted By Blythe On 06.11.2011 @ 4:47 pm
“…she walked around the corner, it’s like she brought the sun with her…” These lyrics by Cage stuck in his head, replaying over and over every moment he thought about her. She was intoxicating. She was intriguing. She was gorgeous; and fun. But, most importantly, she was his. Watching her walk down the aisle in her white, ballgown, princess dress, he couldn’t help but smile. Every step she took was one step closer to him and their future together; his Princess, his Bride—his Sunshine.
» Posted By Blythe On 06.08.2011 @ 11:28 pm
It would seem it was gone—well, most days. The memories, that was. She was forgetting more and more, the unfortunate side-effects of Alzheimer’s Disease. There were days she forgot her children’s names…or the date, sometimes even by years. She recalled a time where the stores were closed on Sunday’s, and the old dirt road took them to a magical place where they would smoke and fish and drink; where they would dance in the moonlight in the firefly-lit field long past curfew. Her memory loss would take her back to their first kiss or the sweet taste of a Coca-Cola on her lips, the bottle glass and cold.
» Posted By Blythe On 06.08.2011 @ 3:43 am
The days passing, she grew more and more anxious and excited. She found an old, framed mirror at a second-hand shop and began her next do-it-yourself project: a chalkboard. She found some paint at her local hardware store and the chalk at a convenience store. After three layers, she had painted the cutest chalkboard to announce to her guests that this was where her wedding was. It was going out by the road for everyone to see, and it would read, “Shelly and Daniel’s Wedding!!!” in overlapping brown and blue—her colors. It seemed so perfect—flawless, really. Little did she know, it would rain on her wedding day.
» Posted By Blythe On 06.06.2011 @ 11:21 am
Her voice, like nails on a chalkboard, droned on. The yard needed mowing, the trash needed taken out, the dishes needed done, the grocery shopping needed to… “Honey, please…” he muttered. He rubbed his temples in attempts to reduce the oncoming migraine. As he continued his day-to-day living, picking up the kids, going to work, and attempting to please his wife at night, he found his mundane and routine life boring, and overwhelming. Oh, how easy it would be to pick up that gun from his nightstand…
» Posted By Blythe On 06.04.2011 @ 9:20 pm
The radio played quietly in the background as the young couple spun around their kitchen floor as if they were dance stars, first salsa, then tango and a little swing. They ended in a slow dance that brought them closer than they had been in months. What had inspired such a thought did not matter—only that he was touching her, and she was happy. This moment is where everything began. A few short hours later, I was conceived. And, that, my friends, was a mistake.
» Posted By Blythe On 06.04.2011 @ 12:07 am
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She had never been in a limo, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered right now except sleep—and food. She was starving. And, so overwhelmingly tired. After a twelve-hour work day, she had just gotten home. It was currently quarter after five in the morning, and there she stood over the trash, a watermelon slice in each hand, and tears streaming from her tired eyes. It had been a terrible day. And, she needed comfort food. As she regained composure, she gathered about two plates filled with comfort food—one with cheesecake, and the other piling high with dill pickle spears. It didn’t even matter that her purse was still on the table. She picked up the two plates and carried them to her room where she curled up, still in jeans and a bra, and sat, gently humming and rocking back and forth, consoling her misery with her odd obsessions.
» Posted By Blythe On 06.03.2011 @ 2:29 am