Song

I hear the notes, I hear the noise, I know the path I go. I lose myself to song, this art that travels through my soul.

I listen to the noise, standing among the notes. I see them move, I see them shift, the sound does surround and the single light does grow, a candle in the dark, the path to walk is shown.

I follow the path, through places new and old. Through the stories others have told, with note and noise and beaten path, to show the listener down which path to go. I travel the woods, fly through the sky, I know this story, though it’s not my own.

The noise does stop, the song does end, the story told but I yearn for it all the more.

So I turn the volume up, and continue down the path I know, while I start the song again.

A Letter – In Reply

Dear Ms. James,

I appreciate you telling me about your mother, perhaps, appreciate is the wrong way to say it, but I’ve no other way to word it. By the time you receive this letter, I’ll likely have visited her, I have the time after all. I have always liked your mother, perhaps that was a sign of some sort.

I’m trying to keep any, hostility, from this letter, considering the news. I, wish things had gone differently, I still do, though I know it won’t make it so. I can safely say the anger is mostly abated at this moment. Really, I’m just, sad, I suppose. I never did like an empty home, and that’s really all I have. My friends were all your friends, and it seems I lost them in the split. Strange to realize that I never had friends of my own, and seemingly they all appear to think I’m a horrible person for being angry at you. I don’t get it personally, what did any of you that knew what was happening expect? I mean, I’ve never been one to hate a person, but I hate that, man, you’re with. He has an infantile grasp on language, the one time I’ve met him, he came with the movers you know, he acted as if you were a prize.

Who does that? Who does that to a person, that just had their world torn apart?

Now I have news that a person I’ve known all my life, or a large enough portion of it, is dying. It’s terminal and she has months to live, and it’s one thing after another.

So, it seems I rather failed at keeping the hostility out of the letter, maybe I’ll send a different one, and just keep this one for myself, but that would be rather like lying, or leaving a post it note with call me on it. (Yes, that was in reference to your actions, so perhaps the anger isn’t totally gone, but well, I can’t say I blame myself for this.)

As it stands though, despite my anger at this situation, despite what you’ve done. I’ll be there for your mother, and should you need it, I’ll help you with anything you need help with.

I won’t however submit myself to the presence of that asshole, yes, asshole, you decided was more fitting. It makes me wonder though, if that’s what you wanted in a man, how lacking was I in our relationship? No accounting for taste I suppose, apologies are to be extended however, as this letter has become exceedingly rude. It wasn’t my intention when I started writing it, but well, here it is. You however understand quite well my view on the worth of an apology, so perhaps even this final bit is rude.

Sincerely,

Elliot S. Jacobs

P.S. While I’ll be around your mother when I can if I’m not there when something happens please call me my number is (555)-275-000. Really I am, well, Lyn has always been kind to me, I’ll do whatever I can for her in this time and I mean that, truly I do. I’m sorry that this comes after what is perhaps one of the rudest letters I’ve ever written but, I felt it should be said. You know the schools number, call that during school hours if something happens, please.

 

 

Distant Star

And there upon the evening star sat upon those lips ever far, a smile.

Despite the distance that smile did make that evening star so bright, and yet upon the dawn that star did dim.That smile so far, so distant and however bright, did mourn the unimpeachable grasp of time, that length of space between revealed within the sun’s cruel light.

My friend so cared for that evening star, ever watching from upon the far, far off shores of home, I offered friendship, comfort to both, for that distance, that length between his dear evening star and the shores of home.

The tyranny of that space between, the grasp upon their love, it never did cause their love to wax or wane despite the weight upon their hearts.

It made me wonder, it made me wish, if ever I were to find an evening star of my own; would I give my all despite the distance, between that far off smile, and these distant shores of home?

Retired – The Kingmaker

Ya know, I used to work for a living, in a matter of speaking anyway. Well, that got old, hell, I got old. Lets see…shit think I stopped counting about, oh fuck, around the sixth or seventh Henry got put on the throne,wait no it was the eighth one. He was the one that did the whole chop to the heads to wives if I remember right. Bit of an asshole really. Then again most kings are assholes, they’re the king.

Though I suppose I’m not one to talk eh?

Retired now though, moved out to the middle of fuck it all no where Texas, why? Cause guns are interesting, cool, and explosions? Shit I’m ancient and I think explosions are fun. When ya own all the land for miles, no one really gives two rats ass what you do.Besides, no one really expects a gun nut Texan of anything other than that really. Stereotypes can work for you at times really, now can’t they?

So I spend my days sleeping, and my nights blowing shit up. It’s fun, it’s interesting, and it’s not dealing with the assholes that actually have known me for any amount of time.

People think being around a while means you’ll find a reason to like someone. Well, people are stupid, damn stupid, and the longer you’re around someone the more you’ll want to tear their heart out, stamp on it, before hitching them to a car and dragging their still twitchin body round for a few miles.

Yes that was oddly specific, no I’ll not explain. This is dinner and a show, sadly, you’ll not be having dinner. Or rather, maybe you can…

Ya see, there are these assholes that just don’t get I’m retired, so here’s what you do, you go, and you tell them I’m retired, I don’t give a shit. However, wait, whats you’re name again darling? Beatrice? Who the hell still uses that dumb ass name? No matter, Beatrice, shit your parents hated you, did they beat you too? You don’t have to nod, just sit there, you go and you explain, that I don’t care that they don’t like me, they can do the village with the pitchforks and torches all they damn well please.

Just keep the hell off my property. I’m old, I’m angry, and I just want to be left alone. Don’t feel that’s too much to ask, what do you think? You can talk now honey, there you go. See? This is the beginning of a wonderful working relationship. Call this number, tell them you’re on retainer, name? Shit, call me King, nah, I’m kidding, names Al, least anymore. No last name, whats the point? No one to remember it but me anyway.

Go on now, git, before I start feeling hungry again.

A Letter – Returned

Dear Elliot S. Jacobs,

Elliot, I’m sorry I hurt you to this extent. I’ve rarely seen you this angry, I…I’m not sure what to say about it. I would say I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I see now that I did, even unknowingly, some part of me must have wanted to otherwise, you’re right, I wouldn’t have picked that day.

I’m glad to hear you’re at least looking forward towards the start of classes, I’m sure you’ll do great at being a teacher, I know you always shared so much of what you knew with me whenever you thought I might listen.

Also, this is strange to have in a letter and its coming at such a bad time, but, mom’s sick. Really sick, and she always liked you and she’s angry at me for leaving. She said that even if I was living in sin at least I was happy, but…that’s another thing all together. She’s at the hospital, it’s thirty minutes from the high school, I hate to ask because of what I did but it would mean a lot to her if you could go see her from to time.

As for bridges burned, you’re right and I’m sorry, I could have handled all of it better but hindsight is 20/20, there isn’t anything to be done for it now and I know how you feel about apologies. I’m not sure what I could do to redeem myself as being someone you could be friends with, but it’s only been a week, I think we both need time.

Your friend regardless,

Emma James

 

Closure – A Letter (Fiction)

Dear Emma James,

It feels like I should be starting this with something like I still remember the day, or I’ll never forget when it happened, when we ended and I was alone again, but it’s only been a week so it’s not like much time has passed, even if each day has been a year and a day, and the week seems like it’s lasted centuries, it’s only been a week. A week since the call.

Who does that? Call to tell someone they’ve been with for five years, five years that day, our god damn anniversary, that she’s done? Who does that? That’s what I latched on to, October fifth, 2011, that’s when we actually said we were a couple, dating.

You knew, you knew how I felt about marriage, I didn’t see the point. I still don’t but if you felt we were living in sin you should have mentioned that, or maybe I didn’t understand you well enough, maybe you’re right and this is for the best. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, doesn’t mean I’m not angry.

Doesn’t mean you couldn’t have done a better job of ending it.

I get home, you’re gone, the things that were, for the most part, yours, were gone or packed and there was a note saying the movers would be over and that I should call you. You didn’t call me, I had to call you, to figure out what was happening. You’d met someone three months back, and you’d been seeing him, and this was my fault somehow? Somehow it was my fault you felt the need to do this, it was my fault my career hadn’t taken off and I was starting as a substitute English teaching in two months, it was my fault, all of it, everything that went wrong was my fault somehow. Yes, you top this all off with we can still be friends, a smile in your voice and it’s like you’re laughing at me.

You’re willing to throw away everything we’ve built, everything, without any kind of fight for it, on the day we built it, throwing it all away with a post it note a couple of boxes and a phone call, yet we can still be friends? Are you kidding me? How do you, how does that even compute? Where did you come up with that grand scheme? Cause it wasn’t reality, it sure as hell wasn’t with me in mind. No, I’m sorry miss, we can’t be friends, please lose my number. Now, now that I’m writing this, I was sad, devastated, for that week, but now after its all said and done, I’m just angry. I want my five years back, I want my cat back, but I don’t want you back. Not after this, you’ve not only burnt the bridge but you’ve destroyed all the historical records of it to, there is nothing left.

However, despite this, part of me still cares, and that part of me, that small kernel of love I bear for you still, wants to say I hope you can find that happiness, I hope you find it and I hope you don’t throw it away with a post it note and a phone call. I hope you fight for it and can smile again eventually. However, it won’t ever be with me, I can say that, regardless of what happens, the ship has sailed, we’re done and I want to say that with real feeling to make sure the closure is there, to make sure its clear.

We’re done.

I wish you well, truly I do, this is all I have time for. I have to go setup the lesson plan for my classes. Six months as a stint as an English teacher for the local high school, should be a learning experience certainly.

Sincerely,

Elliot S. Jacobs

Beautiful/Ugly

Yesterday gone, tomorrow not promised, see the world as it is rather than for what its not. See the shine, the glitter and the glow, and the rotten, the withered and the old, realize the bile, the bitter and the broken but rejoice in the shining, the golden, the gilded. See the beauty, the wonder in both, and find a point between that light, find a place that borders that night, and hold on to that now, that present place you make with everything you are, will all you have, for that might be truly all you get, for life is fleeting and life is fast but it’s ugly and beautiful and nothing so wondrous can ever truly last.