Chameleon1218's Posts - TBD2024-03-28T09:36:58ZChameleon1218http://teebeedee.ning.com/profile/Chameleon1218http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/2190216436?profile=RESIZE_48X48&width=48&height=48&crop=1%3A1http://teebeedee.ning.com/profiles/blog/feed?user=298weaabq7tri&xn_auth=noParty of Fourtag:teebeedee.ning.com,2010-04-14:1991841:BlogPost:9262772010-04-14T20:23:22.000ZChameleon1218http://teebeedee.ning.com/profile/Chameleon1218
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<p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt"><span lang="EN" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" xml:lang="EN">Lanie brought a fresh tray of drinks out to patio and set it down on the wooden cocktail table in the midst of the grouping of four deck chairs. The sun was beginning to set so she lit a large pillar candle ensconced in a glass hurricane…</span></p>
<p style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><img alt="" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/2220124291?profile=original"/></p>
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<p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN">Lanie brought a fresh tray of drinks out to patio and set it down on the wooden cocktail table in the midst of the grouping of four deck chairs. The sun was beginning to set so she lit a large pillar candle ensconced in a glass hurricane holder. As she leaned over her husband Rob and their friend Colin both smiled appreciatively at her. Only Tara, tonight’s unofficial guest of honor, seemed oblivious to her charms. In fact, Tara seemed oblivious to the three of them as she sat curled up in her chair staring at the flowers. She really hadn’t said much since they’d gotten back to the house and Lanie wondered if she was truly interested in them at all. <br/><br/>“She’s just a tad bit shy at first” Colin had told them “takes her a moment to warm up to folks, she’s a quiet one but believe me when she’s interested there’s no mistaking about it.”<br/><br/>They’d known Colin for years and trusted his judgment implicitly for he had never steered them wrong, but this time they weren’t so sure. They’d first seen Tara when Colin had shown up to a private splash and play party with her dangling from his arm. She wasn’t his usual type –she was in fact quite the opposite. He normally had a petite blonde with blue eyes and fake tits bouncing beside him. The dime a dozen type. But this girl was different most notably she was black with the prettiest cocoa brown skin either of them had ever seen. She was 6 feet tall easy and had long, thick but shapely legs that went on forever. She had nice sized natural breasts a smallish waist and a backside that was as plump and juicy as a ripe summer strawberry. She wore her hair in waist length braids and had a delicious little pout of a lip glossed mouth, she was in a word exotic. That night they’d watched her dance nearly the entire evening wearing a pink crochet triangle bikini top and tiny pink velour shorts with white piping at the sides. Plenty of people had hounded Colin for an intro in hopes of getting a chance at a little playtime with her but she only had eyes for Colin or so it seemed for she did not play with anyone, not even him – she just lay beside him watching while he indulged in the evening’s delights.<br/><br/>Both she and Rob had been completely taken with her and had finally talked Colin into arranging a date with her. Lanie was white as was Colin and Rob Japanese, neither had ever been with a black woman before. She was definitely the one they wanted. Colin had spoken to her about them and wonder of wonders she had remembered them, she’d liked Rob. She apparently had a sweet tooth for Asian men. <br/><br/>So they had met for an early dinner, she was wearing a white linen halter dress and strappy white sandals, frosted pink sunglasses held back her hair and a round medallion with a rune inscribed on it dangled between her breast. Colin walked into the restaurant with her strutting like the cock of the walk. He was clearly older but still dashingly handsome and enjoyed the attention he received whenever he arrived anywhere with a good looking, nubile, young thing by his side.<br/><br/>During dinner she had been polite, friendly, charming even but not particularly talkative. She was however articulate and quite smart. Beauty and brains – definitely not something Colin’s usual women were known for. She didn’t drink, ate sparingly but laughed heartily. She loves a good joke, Colin had quipped, that’s why she’s with me. Chuckles all around.<br/><br/>There was dessert, she’d had something with whipped cream and Lanie had felt herself go moist as she watched her licking it off of her fingers and then having Colin do the same. Was she flirting with them or just Col? After coffee Rob had delivered the invitation to go back to the house. They had a lovely little private patio with a garden of sorts. The Hydrangeas, one of your favorites right Tara? Are in full bloom – you should see them. She’s smiled and had said she’d love to if it was alright with Col.<br/><br/>It had been more than alright with Col.<br/><br/>They had been back at the house for nearly two hours now. She had been receptive when Rob had taken her by the arm and showed them around the place, had graciously offered to help Lanie get the first round of drinks and nibbles from the kitchen and had even played for more than a few minutes with their usually cantankerous Tabby, Mitzi who seemed to be equally taken with her. But other than that, no real signs of the evening going anywhere they really wanted it to. Ah well, it happened that way sometimes. The best thing to do was just sit back, relax and enjoy the night. After all it wasn’t as if they were having a bad time. Colin was always a pleasure to be around and so far Tara was too. She didn’t speak much but when she did she was either funny or engaging and often times both. .<br/><br/>They were in the midst of a conversation about the best meals they’d ever had in France when Tara stood up and excused herself to go to the bathroom. A little too much lemonade. They all nodded. Did she remember where the guest bath was? Lanie asked. She nodded yes and set off across the patio towards the house. They returned to their conversation. A moment later Rob’s eyes grew round as saucers and a smile spread quickly across his face.<br/><br/>“I think she likes us..” he said<br/><br/>Colin turned to look behind him and smiled as well.<br/><br/>“Yes mate, it appears as though she does indeed” <br/><br/>Lanie followed both of their gazes and nearly choked trying to swallow the bit of wine that was in her mouth.<br/><br/>There in the middle of the patio stood Tara, naked except for a barely there silk thong, heels and a smile. The white dress at her feet. She looked over her shoulder at them coyly placing one finger on her lower lip briefly before speaking,<br/><br/>“Silly me, I can’t remember – is the loo on this floor or the same one as the bedroom? Perhaps someone should show me…” she said walking on towards the house. <br/><br/>All three stood very quickly and followed behind her.</span></p>Snow Daytag:teebeedee.ning.com,2010-04-01:1991841:BlogPost:9004252010-04-01T01:49:14.000ZChameleon1218http://teebeedee.ning.com/profile/Chameleon1218
<p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 11.25pt; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; BACKGROUND: #f7f7f7"><b><span lang="EN" style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" xml:lang="EN">Snow Day…</span></b></p>
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<p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; BACKGROUND: #f7f7f7" class="MsoNormal"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 7pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN"><a title="Send this to friends or post it on your profile." href="http://www.facebook.com/ajax/share_dialog.php?s=4&appid=2347471856&p%5b%5d=1403665980&p%5b%5d=214858125724"></a></span></p>
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<p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-no-proof: yes"></span><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=30527555&op=1&view=all&subj=214858125724&aid=-1&auser=0&oid=214858125724&id=1403665980"></a></span></p>
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<p style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman','serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><img alt="" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/2220124210?profile=original"/></span></p>
<p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN">Photo by Larry Bryant: Snow walk to work, Ontario & Kalorama Roads, NW, DC (FEB 09)</span></p>
<p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 12pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN"><br/><br/>She lay sleeping soundly beside him. Outside thick flakes of snow fell silently blanketing the landscape and casting a bluish-grey light that filtered softly through the window curtains. He ran his palm over her warm, naked skin from her breast to the curve of her waist, over her hip and finally down her thigh relishing the feel of her fullness beneath his hand. He inched closer to her the rich, heavenly scent of she enveloping him and rousing the passion he held for her yet again. <br/><br/>The unexpected snow had caused the city to come quite nearly to a halt. Schools, businesses and government offices were closed. Washington had never been a city that handled snow well. Today he was thankful for the gift of a snow day, an extended weekend, a brief reprieve from everyday life – another day with her. He bent his head, kissed the nape of her neck and then her shoulder savoring the sweetness of her flesh upon his lips. <br/><br/>She brought him a kind of peace and serenity that he had forgotten existed. Took him away from his present day reality and brought him back to a part of himself that he had buried under layers of life such as it was. She reminded him of life as it could have been, could still be. Reminded him that there was a simpler side to life. Simple pleasures. Moments in which to breathe freely again.<br/><br/>She shunned the club lights in favor of little known cafes with good food and yet to be discovered jazz soloist singing smoky throated lyrics over melodic piano notes. Her favorite hotspot was the courtyard of the Freer gallery on a warm, sunny afternoon and her bistro of choice was her own tiny kitchen. All she needed was a recipe, a basket of ingredients fresh from the Saturday morning market and at least one dining companion. Going out was fun but she preferred to dance barefoot at home amongst friends where there was no dress code, the drinks were free flowing and everyone was a VIP. The only ‘stars’ at the parties she liked to attend were the ones reflected in the calm, dark waters of the Tidal Basin where she liked to walk on balmy Summer evenings. His hand encircling hers as they quietly strolled along, no words needed. <br/><br/>Their grand Saturday night plans had been cancelled due to the weather and he knew that though she hadn’t said a word she had been thrilled. The saucy little black dress hung in his closet still in plastic fresh from the cleaners, beneath it the towering black pumps bought to go with it. She had gladly traded them both for one of his tee shirts and a pair of heavy socks. She’d made quiche’ and a warm salad for dinner followed by a rustic apple tart and old movies watched while curled up on the couch. <br/><br/>Kisses, touches, whispered words that evolved into lovemaking that lasted for what seemed an eternity. She was insatiable and he could not refuse her, nor did he want to. In the quiet of the aftermath she had lay beside him, cradled in the crook of his arm. Her slender fingers meandering slowly across his chest tracing unseen patterns. He’d opened up to her. He’d talked as he never had before and she listened, never interrupting – just listened. When the words stopped coming and he had emptied himself she began to kiss him softly wherever she pleased as if trying to kiss each wound and make them go away and then she had loved him again. This time it was as if something had broken free within him and he was awash in emotions which he released physically through her until he was too weak to give anymore of himself to her. <br/><br/>And she’d received him, every little bit, every piece, every part of him. All that he gave, whether gently or forcefully. She rode the wave of his release and when he was done allowed him to lay spent, body drenched with sweat upon her breast. Allowed him to rest upon her, arms clenched about her, holding her tightly lest she float away. She’d stoked the back of his head, kissed his forehead, tenderly murmured words of comfort to him until he finally drifted peacefully off to sleep.<br/><br/>Sunday there had been unexpected work to attend to and she had let him be for the most part. Interrupting him only to make him eat, take his meds, kiss her eyelids. She cooked, wrote, read the paper, napped on the couch, had calmly put their time together on hold while he answered the world’s call. <br/><br/>Dinner, more talking, more movies, hot chocolate and profiteroles, slow dancing in the dark. Pillow fighting, tickling her until she laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe. Watching old and new school cartoons until the wee hours of the morning and then once again making love as the snow fell. <br/><br/>Now she stretched and yawned then turned herself over to face him. She looked at him through a sleepy gaze, smiled slightly and pressed herself against him before closing her eyes. “Again” she whispered softly, burrowing her face into the curve of his neck. <br/><br/>In the night there had been promises of a massage, Fejioada, a game of Monopoly and maybe, just maybe a snow ball fight. Eventually the day would have to end, she would gather her things and he would have to take her home. They would both have to return to reality and the more complicated side of life. The snow would melt and their brief period of hibernation would be over. The world would be waiting. <br/><br/>But at the moment the snow was still falling and there were more pressing matters to attend to…<br style="mso-special-character: line-break"/><br style="mso-special-character: line-break"/></span></p>
<p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"></p>Cold Feettag:teebeedee.ning.com,2010-02-22:1991841:BlogPost:8286002010-02-22T02:19:32.000ZChameleon1218http://teebeedee.ning.com/profile/Chameleon1218
<p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 11.25pt; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; BACKGROUND: #f7f7f7"><span lang="EN" style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" xml:lang="EN"><em><strong>Here's another one I did last Fall. Many of my pieces are inspired by photographs taken by my friends. I look at the photos and the stories just come in most cases. Thats what happened with this one and Meridian Hill. I'll…</strong></em></span></p>
<p style="LINE-HEIGHT: 11.25pt; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; BACKGROUND: #f7f7f7" class="MsoNormal"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN"><em><strong>Here's another one I did last Fall. Many of my pieces are inspired by photographs taken by my friends. I look at the photos and the stories just come in most cases. Thats what happened with this one and Meridian Hill. I'll try to include the photos when I can. As always most of my pieces are unedited (I suck at editing) so there are probably a few typos, mispellings and omissions. Try not to hold it against me.</strong></em></span></p>
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<p style="LINE-HEIGHT: 11.25pt; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; BACKGROUND: #f7f7f7" class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN">Cold Feet</span></b></p>
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<p style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN"><img alt="" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/2220124550?profile=original"/></span></p>
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<p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=30548494&op=1&view=all&subj=220910340724&aid=-1&auser=0&oid=220910340724&id=1403665980"></a></span></p>
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<p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN">Photo by Michael Eldridge: U. S. Capitol Building, NW, DC (29 JUL 09)</span></p>
<p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 12pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN"><br/><br/><br/><font size="3">He stood on the street at the entrance to the brick courtyard and stared into its inner sanctum. From where he stood he could see an elaborate fountain and for reasons he could not explain he was drawn to it. As he walked down the stairs and through the gated brick archway he wondered how long the room had been there, he’d walked this way a thousand times and had never noticed it before.<br/><br/>The room itself was circular with a high glass domed ceiling. Stone benches were built into the red brick walls which were formed into patterns reminiscent of something you would see in an Indian temple. At intervals around the room were windows fitted with metal lattice work covers. Birds flew or sat perched calmly in the upper recesses of the walls. Trees and plants in oversized stone pots were placed around the parameters of the structure. In the background there was the gentle gurgling of the fountain.<br/><br/>As he walked towards the fountain Ryan felt the stress he had been under melt away. The closer he came to the font the more he felt as though a tremendous weight were being lifted from him and in its place a cloak of peace and calm was descending. When he reached the fountain he steeped up on its base to peer into the water. The edges of surrounding the basin was covered in Byzantine style mosaic tile work. Blues, greens, yellows, golds. Rich tones such as his eyes had never seen before, the tiles sparkled in the sunlight like jewels. The water in the basin was crystal clear and on the bottom of the basin was more tile work forming the face of woman who seemed eerily familiar and almost human. The closer he looked the more real the face seemed, in fact she appeared not only to be breathing but to lifting her head towards him. He stood mesmerized unable to believe what he was seeing. The face lifted itself from the basin until it floated just below the surface of the water. Eyes of the deepest lapis lazuli stared up at him framed by alabaster skin and flowing red hair that seemed so real he felt as though he could reach out and run his fingers through its silken strands. Like the tiles it too shimmered and sparkled in the sunlight.<br/><br/>The face was the most beautiful he had ever seen and he could not for the life of him take his eyes off of it. It was as if his feet were made of stone, for he could not move away from were he stood. The eyes blinked and then her mouth slowly curved into a smile. It was as if she were beckoning him. He lifted a hand and slowly reached towards her, just wanting to touch her face to see if she were real or just a figment of his overworked mind. The water was cool to the touch as his finger tip slowly connected to it, carefully he dipped it beneath the surface to touch her cheek. To his shock and surprise he felt flesh.<br/><br/>In that moment there was a loud clanging, Ryan spun around to see the black gates at the entrance slamming shut. The room darkened and the walls changed from red brick to slate grey stone. The intricate lattice work covers at the windows morphed into blackened iron bars and the lush plants and trees withered into thorn covered vines. The lovely songbirds became ominous looking birds of prey.<br/><br/>He turned around slowly taking in all that surrounded him, not believing his eyes. What was happening? What was going on? He turned back to the fountain, the beautiful fountain that he had just gazed upon had completely and utterly vanished. In its place stood a hulking black cauldron filled with a noxious looking substance, the stench of which make him sick to his stomach to nearly the point of vomiting. Floating just above the surface where once the face of what had surely been an angel had been was now the decayed remains of something that could never have been human. Putrid, bloated, grey-green flesh, totally eaten away in some parts, stringy, matted hair, cracked ashen lips and completely white eyeballs that were pulled away from sunken sockets. The sight of this curdled his stomach and before he could stop himself a torrent of vomit violently erupted from him nearly covering one side of the cauldron.<br/><br/>And now from the murky depths of the enormous black kettle came a long thin withered claw like hand. Reaching for him, on its ring finger a shining gold ring in which was set a round, glowing lapis lazuli stone. With it rose the specter that lay in the black ooze in of the cauldron. Terrified, Ryan backed away hastily, slipped in the vomit and fell to the cold hard floor. Behind him the decayed body rose steadily. Looking back over his shoulder and seeing this he scrambled trying to lift himself up off of the floor but found it nearly impossible to get his footing amidst the slipperiness of his own vomit. So instead he crawled rapidly towards the gates and upon reaching them pulled himself up on his feet. He shook them but to no avail for they were sealed shut. <br/><br/>“Ryan” <br/><br/>A voice came from behind him, in horror he turned and saw a veiled, slime covered corpse wearing what appeared to be an old wedding dressmaking its way towards him. The flesh had completely fallen away from its face and where the eyes had once been were now empty sockets. What appeared to be horns protruded from its skull.<br/><br/>“Ryan”<br/><br/>The voice came again, as the corpse moved closer still to him. This time he noticed that when it opened its mouth to speak his name it bared a set of insidious looking fangs. In horror he pushed himself against the gates again and again but in vain for they would not budge so much as an inch.<br/><br/>The cold, slimy hand planted itself onto his shoulder, he shuddered as it tightened its grip and he felt the presence of the face close to his, moving towards his neck. Instinctively he jumped and screamed.<br/><br/>“Ryan! Ryan! Honey wake up! “<br/><br/>“Wha..huh??”<br/><br/>He opened his eyes and upon seeing the lapis lazuli ring he scrambled to get away from it, falling out of bed.<br/><br/>“Babes, what the hell is wrong with you” his fiancée Julianne asked looking at him as if he had truly gone mad. She climbed over to his side of the bed and peered down at him.<br/><br/>He lay on his back, partially propped on his elbows, his body drenched in sweat, face completely devoid of color, shaking like a leaf. His heart was pounding and his body trembled. He looked up at Jules. Her long, red hair falling freely over her naked, alabaster skin. Her deep blue eyes staring down at him quizzically.<br/><br/>“Babes I don’t know what’s wrong with you but you need to pull it together. We have a million things to do today. We gotta go pick out the flowers, finalize the menu with caterer, get you fitted for your tux, drop off the deposits for the band and the photographer blah..blah..blah..”<br/><br/>He stared at her, saw her mouth moving but couldn’t hear what she was saying as she continued to drone on and on and on as she had been for the past few months. He wondered to himself who this person was and what she had done with his sweet, sexy, cool, laid-back Jules. Since he had proposed almost everything about her had changed. <br/><br/>He thought about his dream, how nightmarish and vivid it had been.<br/><br/>“Ryan are you listening to me??”<br/><br/>And wondered for the first time if he really knew what he was getting himself into…<br style="mso-special-character: line-break"/><br style="mso-special-character: line-break"/></font></span></p>
<p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"></p>Meridian Hill Park After Darktag:teebeedee.ning.com,2010-02-20:1991841:BlogPost:8237532010-02-20T01:00:00.000ZChameleon1218http://teebeedee.ning.com/profile/Chameleon1218
<p class="MsoNormal" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 11.25pt; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; BACKGROUND: #f7f7f7"><b><span lang="EN" style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" xml:lang="EN"><em>I've always dreamed of being a writer. When I was in Junior & Senior High I carried notebooks almost everywhere I went and wrote constantly. Those days seem like they were eons ago. Last year after having unexpected foot…</em></span></b></p>
<p style="LINE-HEIGHT: 11.25pt; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; BACKGROUND: #f7f7f7" class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN"><em>I've always dreamed of being a writer. When I was in Junior & Senior High I carried notebooks almost everywhere I went and wrote constantly. Those days seem like they were eons ago. Last year after having unexpected foot surgery and being housebound for 14 weeks, I started writing again for the first time since I graduated from HS in 1987. This is one of the first pieces I wrote. Its unedited -- almost all of my pieces are. Constructive criticism would be appreciated.</em></span></b></p>
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<p style="LINE-HEIGHT: 11.25pt; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; BACKGROUND: #f7f7f7" class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 10pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN">Meridian Hill Park After Dark</span></b></p>
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<p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 12pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN"><font size="3">Meridian Hill Park After Dark<br/></font></span></p>
<p style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN"><font size="3"><img alt="" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/2220125642?profile=original"/></font></span></p>
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<p><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN"><font size="2">Photo by Larry Bryant: Mist Soaked Saturday Night, Meridian Hill Park, NW DC (Mar 09)</font></span></p>
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<p><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN"><font size="3"><br/>By L.A.</font></span></p>
<p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=30527657&op=1&view=all&subj=214898145724&aid=-1&auser=0&oid=214898145724&id=1403665980"></a></p>
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<p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 12pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; COLOR: #333333; FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN" xml:lang="EN"><font size="3">They kissed for what seemed an eternity under the lamp post, dewy mist enveloping them. They’d first said hello at this exact spot many suns ago how fitting that they should return to say good-bye. But how to do so? How to let go of the years spent, the children raised, the miles traveled, the homes moved, the days of sunshine and the nights of chilly silence. The ups and downs, ins and outs, it ain’t all roses moments that come to any marriage. <br/><br/>They had survived deployments, wars, conflicts, his call to duty, dedication to the uniform and all it stood for. Survived the almost insufferable separations. Her fear that he wasn’t coming home and his that he’d never see her face or those of their children again. Somehow they’d made it through the daily reports of more casualties, more air raids, bombings, ambushes and sleepless nights wondering. Babies conceived on leave and birthed while his feet were on foreign soil. Temptations abroad and home overcome by the knowledge of something that was too meaningful, too important to risk for temporary solace grabbed indiscriminately in the darkness. They’d overcome the longing that cut to the bone, the emptiness that could not be filled until they embraced on the oil slicked tarmac of an airfield in the middle of wherever. Moments when the world stood still and everything except the two ceased to exist. <br/><br/>Letters written from dark, muddy foxholes to the symphony of landmines, gun fire and mortar shells erupting incessantly and read by tear-filled eyes behind closed doors until tear stained and dog-earred. Letters held onto as if made of gold and locked away in lavender scented memory chest so that the sacrifices made for the life that was to come could never be forgotten. Letters pulled out after words that stung shot back and forth like enemy fire in the midst of combat just so they would remember the times when they would’ve given anything just to breathe the same air.<br/><br/>Prayers sent up fervently and answered dutifully. Hands held. Cheeks kissed. Shoulders rubbed. Love made. Smiles shared. Faith kept. Strength grown. Bonds forged. Promises made. Lies told. Tears wept. Comfort given. Clarity sought. Meaning found. Dreams realized.<br/><br/>Here in Meridian Hill Park during the halcyon days of a summer long gone but never forgotten, he had dared to sit beside her. His heart beating wildly inside of him, sweat forming on his brow. Wondering how to make his lips form and speak what would become the most beautiful word in the world to him, her name. Hands trembling, mind racing, soul hoping that this was the right bench and the right woman. Praying that she would become his destiny and his happily ever after. <br/><br/>She appeared calm, serene. peaceful. But inside she rethought her dress, her hair, her shoes, her purse. Was the shade of lipstick right? Did her perfume smell as sweet as it had in the department store? Was he really as handsome as he seemed in his uniform. Would he like her, want her, take her to be his lawfully wedded? Would the butterflies in her stomach settle. Would she find her voice in time to speak? Would he be her dream come true?<br/><br/>Could they? Would they? Did they dare hope?<br/><br/>He had, she had, they had. For so very long. And now was it really to be over? How do you say good-bye to a lifetime? The unexpected illness, the tests, diagnosis, second, third, fifth opinions. The finality. The acceptance. Til’ death do we…<br/><br/>But tonight none of that mattered. They were here together and once again the world stood still and all else ceased to exist and slowly they began to dance as they had so many nights before. Here where the dreams of youth had been spun like silk. When they were immortal and life spread out before them like the oceans he would cross to fight for freedom: hers, his, others unknown. Slow dancing in the park after dark to the strains of a phantom band, a smooth, soulful crooner at the helm guiding them to a place where everything was bright and beautiful. And they would forever be together. Death had been defeated and sent on its way hopefully never to darken their doorstep again. <br/><br/>One more dance, one more kiss, just one more visit to that moment in time when they could reach out and touch eternity, pluck it like a sweet plum ripe and warming in the sun. When joy flowed like peach nectar and smelled as sweet as Stargazer lilies. <br/><br/>And so they danced, suspended in time, by the light of the lamppost in Meridian Hill Park after dark.</font></span></p>
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