The Mind of a Struggling Writer

Tap, tap, tap Small taps on the roof. Tears of heaven dripping The ground opens to take in  The cool drops of moisture. Green grass brightens, Grey pavement darkens. The sky turns brown-grey. Taps become hammering The wind moves the torrent In pulsing waves. Trees bend to its onslaught Threatening to snap. Heaven's rivers pour out. Then sunlight pokes through And a fractured spectrum paints the sky. The onslaught slows Small taps on the roof. Tap, tap. tap.

When I thinking on what I wanted to be when I grew up, I don't think I expected to be where I am now. I dreamed of being an astronaut, a firefighter, a teacher, a superhero. We all have those dreams. Some want to be an actor on stage and screen. Others want to be rock stars, performing on a stage in front of a crowd. When we were young and naive we dreamed big, and the sky was the limit. But then we grow up, and the world comes crashing down like an avalanche of reality. Some of us do achieve our dreams, others have to settle. I never dreamed of working a mediocre job for corporate America. I didn't dream of being thousands of dollars in student loan debt to get a degree that no one bothered to tell me would be harder to find a career. No one told me that, oh you may want to get your Masters at a different college than you did for your undergrad since PhDs give more weight on that. Good to know in hindsight. So what happened to the American dream of being able to achieve...

Cammie couldn’t believe her luck.  First she got in a fight with her boyfriend and drove off.  She knew it was a stupid fight, and that she should have stayed. But she was too emotional, and the last thing Cammie wanted at that moment was to have to deal with his shit for another moment. She had called Sarah on her way and was planning on staying with her; either until things cooled down with Tim, or maybe for good. Maybe she would just leave and start over. Maybe all she needed was a fresh start. Her hand drifted to her stomach. Cammie didn’t know if that was such a good idea; maybe she did need him. At the moment she just had to get away to think. And Sarah’s place was far enough for a start.             In hindsight, maybe she should have called a friend that lived closer.  The town of Iguana was twenty miles east of El Paso. It was a sleepy little town, one of those places you only stopped in to get gas befo...