The Early Morning Blues…..(short story)

Not too much to say, as I stood in the doorway of my parents room. I could still smell the perfume of my mother as she was twirled around the room as she and my father danced to the sounds of Marvin Gaye, singing “What’s going on?” I remember it just like it was yesterday. Those were the morning that daddy would return in from working all night in the coal mines. We were just kids running around the house, but I always took out time to watch them when they weren’t fighting.

The time was nearing the court date and my attorney was always buzzing my phone with new information and constant drills on how to act in court, what to say and a lot more mumbo jumbo. I had grown numb to the process. I had to do what I needed to do!

It had been six months since that faithful day when my father arrived home from work. He had been working less and less, mother didn’t really recognized that he was even home on the day he had off work. She was always walking around dictating to the staff what she needed to be completed and she had even managed to add Father to the list as if he too had become the hired help.  I don’t know what happened to pop on this day, but when he entered to tell Mother of him being laid off work. Something snapped in his mind and he took to her like a cat attacking a mouse. I watched him run her down, clawing at her like she was made of wood, tearing her flesh and making deep gashes in her beautiful brown skin. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, and she was on the floor swinging her arms begging for mercy. He moved like a wolf on the prowl and prey in sight. He struck her time after time, until her nose was busted and her eyes were blood filled and gurgling sound was oozing out her mouth. He grabbed her body and drug it over to the deep freezer and tossed her inside and  closed it down and went to his bedroom and laid down and went to sleep.

It’s my day in court, ………………… to be continued

Leave a comment if you’d like to read the rest of the story! This storyline is, also, available for sale.

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What makes me happy?


Putting my pen to the paper, is what makes me happy. I could just say that to answer the question. If you are a writer, the answer to that question is not enough. As a writer, I realized the importance of giving enough details. Now being creative enough to make your audience engage in your writing is a skill that has to be developed and shaped.

All of us at some point in time have been asked; “What makes you happy?” I generally say to those who are not writers, simple “Writing.” But for those of you who are authors, published or not, my answer is this;

I love the way my pen flows on the paper. What makes me happy is when I am writing and you go into that zone where nothing seems to matter but the ink, pad and my thoughts.

I write what I feel and how I feel, I take from my life and experiences to make my writing my form of therapy. I don’t really know what else in life I love more than writing, but whatever it is it still doesn’t hold a candle to the love I have for writing…..If you agreed tap your pen…

Writing zone regards,


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