BEAUTY TO DIE FOR

Mark considers the words dressed carefully as he stands naked only a few feet from his sleeping wife.

He analyzes the purpose of clothing and tries to place today's occasion: funeral, appointment, party, every day, or rare special event?

Occasions are just another way of saying, I have a point to make or a lie to tell, I am good enough or better than you, and upon that last thought clearing his fettered mind, Mark chooses a special-occasion piece from the closet.

"Envy," he whispers softly to avoid waking his wife.

Mark imagines the fuss women make over appearance when only a little rouge and lipstick should do it, that and perhaps a gentle drag of a soft applicator over closed eyes, mascara, then a glide through moist clouds of Dior J'adore squeezed from an atomizer bulb, its shape very much like the female ovary.

He struggles to discern between hiding and enhancing at the image of stuffing a lacy brassie're, and decides man's fate is to devolve to a blunder of lies in a world that can't agree on what is beautiful.

He reaches for the Smith & Wesson hidden at the top of his closet and admires the alloy frame and the understated matte finish of the stainless steel slide. He loads the double stack magazine and adjusts the manual thumb safety before gauging his choice of attire.

After appraising his final image in the mirror, Mark glides toward his sleeping wife and places the four-inch barrel near her always beautiful face; he jumps at the sharp clack of gunfire.

He hums to dull the high-pitched ringing in his ears while remembering the beauty of his image in the mirror - the silk Versace covered in steady flashes of exploding sequins, then he eases the hot alloy into a Chanel Red pout.

Teresa Cortez is a freelance writer living in Sugar Land, Texas. She's written for the Houston Chronicle's Among Friends and Texas Magazine as well as several poetry anthologies. She writes random thoughts and stories athttp://wabisabiwords.blogspot.com

tlcortez@earthlink.net

EarthLink Revolves Around You.

More than 10

When words bombard the cerebellum 10 sentences are just too few

Thoughts collide like atoms crashing always late for curfew

Digging deep to the center of the earth, flying higher than the stars

Looking down upon the universe

Un-caged spirit free to roam the land of freedom

In another space and time fighting the voices of oppression with rhyme and reason

Now is our season to flourish to plant new seeds within the grounds

to fertilize the minds of youth with wise voices of whispering sounds

oh yes 10 sentences are just too few to tell the stories needed to be heard

so I will end my 10 sentences, not with a sentence but just 1 word, knowledge.

Damond Butler discovered his passion for writing poetry at the tender age of 16, a major turning point for most American teens. Like many others, he began to embark on a new journey in life. He began to discover what he believed in, discover love, lust, & lies, and venture into events that would begin to sculpture him into manhood.

Damond Butler, a native of Philadelphia is an Author, Poet, and Entrepreneur. He attended Millersville University in Lancaster, PA where he obtained his bachelors of science in Computer Science. He currently owns a flooring company, DA Butler Did It Flooring and is in pursuit of expanding his career as a writer.

Damond is a proud husband and father. He voluntarily gives back to his community as a foster parent & Children’s Church Teacher.

TWILIGHT YEARS

She slowly made her way across the unfamiliar room to the book shelf to adjust the position of the ceramic dog her great grandson had made her many years ago. The shelf unit was familiar, the surroundings were totally foreign.

She glanced out the window expecting to see Tekoa Mountain and blinked several times when instead she viewed a large pine tree and a fence that seemed to lead off to nowhere.She turned and shuffled back to her chair, sat down, and moved slightly to the left to ease the ache from her back.

She sat very quiet and still for a moment, then leaned back with a sigh, and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep and dreaming of her home many miles away. Her mouth curled into a toothless grin as she watched the birds bringing in pieces of sticks and grass to their home outside of her front window. Just as she was leaning forward to get a better look, a large clang made her jump, and her eyes flew open.

She looked around the room. Taking a few minutes to get her bearings, her eyes drifted to the ceramic dog on the shelf. With effort she got up from her chair and slowly made her way across the unfamiliar room to the book shelf to adjust the position of the ceramic dog her great grandson had made her many years ago.

Belinda Wright (BJ Austin) lives in Coeur d'Alene Idaho where she works as a bookkeeper/caregiver/volunteer/gardener/handiman. When she grows up she would like to be an artist/writer/gardener. Until then she will dream large.

CAROUSEL HORSES

Nikki knew better because she wasn’t a little girl anymore, well, she almost knew better, she thought she’d try one more angle before she abandoned her romantic hopes completely over this particular kind of stallion. Maybe it was the music playing or the undulating movement hypnotizing her to ride, but whatever it was, Nikki relented to the magnificent creature, knowing he was not a real stallion and yet hoping that if she just whispered to him the secrets of how to be a real stallion, he would break free from the gelded carousel and they could ride off into the sunset. Her own intuition instantly smirked at that one but Nikki avoided it by leaning back with stretched arms and just curled her fingers around the pole that went through the middle of the stallion. He could not see the pole, of course, but Nikki could, and yet she ignored the plastic reigns and concentrated on the breeze in her hair instead as she closed her eyes and tried to enjoy the ride. The beast seemed proud to be chosen and he communicated to her what he thought was beautiful and important and he bade her to stay with him always; the poor thing was tired of new riders and wanted one single one forever. Nikki smiled at him as the music played and they went round and round; she smiled and tried to encourage the carousel horse to be a real stallion before the music stopped. The horse made a silent whinny, showing his beautiful teeth and a bridle molded magnificently just like the rest of him, she thought, as she touched his perfectly hard, wind swept hair. He was beautiful, his profile rivaled the musculature of any stallion and for all the impressive posturing, he hadn’t understand a single word she said. The music stopped and Nikki climbed down for the last time, accepting that wishes didn’t change carousel horses into real ones. Nikki would remember him fondly but she needed a real stallion, not one that just stood there beautifully.

BIO: Olive Rosehips parents actually named her Rhonda Monique and she looks to quotes to make sense of things. She believes as Leonardo da Vinci says, that "There are three classes of people: "Those who see. Those who see when they are shown, and those who do not see." She also has a thing for horses so this story was destined to be written. Apologies to any carousel horses who may think they recognize themselves in this fiction, this fiction is not intended to offend. Olive writes to clear her mind because painting her toe nails vivid shades of red doesn't always complete her. Olive is a published author, whose short stories and poetry appear in magazines and books. She blogs creatively at http://oliverosehips.blogspot.com/ and http://pentenscribes.ning.com/ .

Be 5/5ths

"Be amended 5/5ths, be amended 5/5ths human."-Common from "It's Your World"

The world needs ALL of you, since there is only one of you on Earth. The worlds needs for you to fully BE who you were purposed and created to be. The destiny of another is dependent on you fulfilling your destiny, and extraneous issues are trying to pull you away from that greatness. You have to be deliberate about keeping yourself built up as a strong, humble being. When at 5/5ths, you are at your absolute strongest, best self. The minute you start to let go, shrink, and diminish is the moment of great vulnerability. Vulnerable to offense, fear, distrust, unhappiness, and bitterness. Be amended as the song suggests. Your amendment is in YOUR hands. Be 5/5ths so that the world can be 5/5ths.

Bio:
Kandice Na'Te is a futuristic, earthy teacher, writer, and business owner who chooses to see the world for what it can be. Writing is the one thing that allows her to positively express herself uninterrupted. She has been writing since she was in grade school, but now fully realizes the powerful potential of written word. She has decided to follow her heart and hope for the very best. To follow her journey go to www.kandicenate.blogspot.com

REPLICATION

The pale gold walls of Georgiana's sewing room blanched in the arc of lamplight above the wooden trestle table, its once squared edges blunted by years of use. She'd always been attracted to objects with a history--something she'd been denied as an abandoned child..

The quilt before her was composed of a hand-appliquéd central medallion and three pieced borders. She'd haunted garage sales and thrift shops for vintage-looking fabrics and threads, not overlooking pieces with light stains.

The hand quilting process she labored over now was the most tedious--tiny stitches that left her fingers aching after the perfectionist in her worried at the threads and fabrics as she went along, gently abrading them with white paper sacks to obtain a genuine, timeworn look.

This quilt design, chosen from photos of post Civil War period pieces, had resulted from an afternoon of research at the library. She expected it to bring twenty thousand dollars with a carefully worded ad on eBay that would artlessly reveal it's supposed age.

She wasn't driven by the money so much as having her work accepted as something legitimate. It nearly took away the sting of her own uncertain lineage, the obstacles that had been placed before her at birth.

She looked up briefly and massaged the kinks in her neck, wondering for the thousandth time if somewhere in the universe, someone was watching, cheering her on.

Sue Elliis lives and writes near Spokane, Washington. Her short stories and poetry have appeared at such places as Sniplits, Flash Me Magazine, Dead Mule School of Southern Literature and Wild Violet. She is a member of The Internet Writers Workshop. Look for her book reviews at The Internet Review of Books.

Rx

Regularly I fill your soul with unleaded streams of premium inspiration. Your body never runs on E. The high from my hallucinogenic mind numbing fumes keep you running to my earth shattering pumps like clockwork!

Many have tried to counterfeit the quality of my elixir of thought provoking images, but alas you cannot make a mockery of my vivacious fuel.

You are used to the wholesome goodness of my clutch, driving without this sublime octane leaves you blind, and numb. Anytime you need my metaphysical to invigorate you, succumb to the estate streams of soul in the psychological.

Bio: Todd Covington lives in New Jersey. His mellifluous use of words has invoked light in every line he writes. Many of his inspirations and short stories can be found @ www.flashinthedays.com is the view into the era of a long lost time.