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Tag Archives: Dawson

Whistle While You Work

Dawson pulled up in front of the old theater, his old truck idling roughly. He stared at the building responsible for the course of his life. He still savored the irony of the townspeople asking him to fix the old building, returning it to its former state of glory. He knew their dreams of breathing life into Avery were pipe dreams but he’d allow them to dream, just as he had once.

He turned off the engine, tossing his cigarette butt out the window and stepped out of the truck. He gave a friendly wave to the mayor walking towards the diner. Dawson could picture the scene. The usual group meeting for their ritual breakfast of coffee and gossip. Not that there was much to gossip about in Avery. Outside of Carolyn’s unexpected pregnancy, rumors flying fast and furious about who the father really was. Dawson felt a little sorry for Carolyn, knowing she lived in a private hell, much like he did.

Stifling a yawn, he grabbed the box of trash bags from the bed of his truck. He’d decided to start with the bulk of the work which would be inside. Over the years, the bored teens of Avery had snuck into the old theater to make it a place of partying and release of pent-up hormones. He supposed it was a natural course of action given there wasn’t much to do in the sleepy town.

Making his way into the building, his eyes momentarily hurt as he left the glare of the morning sun. Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The shadows turned into visions of peeling paint, piles of trash, and smatterings of graffiti. He could make out the faint scent of urine as he kicked a path through the piles.

Yes, he’d have plenty to keep him busy and his mind occupied as he settled the score accomplishing his life’s mission. A wicked grin in place, he whistled as he began collecting debris.

This week I’m taking part in my first prompt with Studio30+ , a picture prompt. We had a choice of two: Peeling Paint or Kool Aid. When I saw the picture for the ‘Peeling Paint’, I knew it was perfect for Dawson’s Story.

 
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Posted by on June 28, 2012 in fiction, Studio30Plus, WIP, writing prompts

 

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Dreams of Hope

I have been struggling to fit in a character for Dawson’s Mission. She has not been easy to weave into the story. Then I had a light bulb moment: I already introduced the character I needed. (Don’t you love those moments?) This is more about Carolyn.

Carolyn Kendall lovingly held the precious horse carousel globe. Her mind drifted dream-like through the past. She didn’t have many fond memories over the course of her marriage but this was one, if not bittersweet.

Marvin, her husband, had pursued her relentlessly, promising her a lifetime of love and happiness. Carolyn, shy and socially awkward, caved in easily to his flowing words of love. The first six months of marriage were pure heaven. She’d been giddy with the amount of intimacy her new husband craved.

On their six month anniversary, his true nature erupted. It had been six months of failing to fertilize her eggs. Her own mother had bore fifteen children. His mother slid in second place with ten children. Surely, between the two, they could repeat such odds. Every month, thereafter, when the home pregnancy test showed negative, his fists came to life.

Five years into the marriage of hell, the gods finally smiled down upon her. Two lines on the pregnancy test. Tears of joy and relief streamed down her face as she showed Kendall. Sipping a beer, he’d eyed her wearily. A barrage of accusations of infidelity, followed with a reluctant promise of controlled fists. Carolyn was elated. A baby on the way and no more beatings as her body swelled with life. She silently vowed she would become pregnant as soon as possible after the birth of each child.

Avery’s lone town doctor saw patients for simple matters such as colds or the flu. He might occasionally attempt to reset the random broken leg or arm. This would mean monthly trips into the city to see a baby doctor. On the first such trip, excitement and anticipation see-sawed through her body as the miles sped by. When they’d arrived, Marvin informed her he would be back when he was ready to get her. Carolyn watched as the rusted Ford sputtered out of sight. A moment of panic shot through her as she worried he meant to leave her there for good; followed by a sense of peace at the idea.

How exciting it was to be fussed over, to have the official result of her pregnancy test, the congratulations, and words of advice from the doctor and his staff. She’d walked out of the doctor’s office, on cloud nine, clutching the prenatal vitamins. She knew it could be hours before Kendall came back. Spotting a quaint gift shop across the street, she spent time browsing.

It was here she found her globe. Kendall would be furious if he knew she’d spent money on herself but she didn’t care. This was to be for her first child, a daughter she hoped. She would come to this very shop and buy each of her children a keepsake; a tradition of sorts. On the way home, her secret treasure tucked safely in her purse, she held on to the hope life might not be so bad after all.

The next month was a time of relief and little attention from Kendall. He preferred to spend his time with beer and Sadie, the woman who’d bore him a son three years prior. Carolyn didn’t mind. Maybe Kendall would get Sadie out of his system once their child came crying into the world. Maybe they could even raise his son, with their own growing family. Maybe the man she fell in love with so long ago, would come back to her.

These were the hopes and dreams which carried her through the next few weeks. Morning sickness rolled over but she didn’t mind. It was one such morning when the phone rang. Carolyn wiped her mouth on the beige hand towel as she went to answer. It was the doctor’s office.

We had 2 weeks to create a story from the picture. No word count. (whoo hoo)

 
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Posted by on June 9, 2012 in abuse, Bloggy Moms, fiction

 

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One For You, One For Me


This week prompt is about transformation. Sometimes our characters change for the better, for the worse. Sometimes its merely a lesson learned that changes the course of their life. Sometimes its a full transformation of body and soul through a religious awakening, supernatural phenomena, or otherwise. Whatever your character’s change is, you have 750 words to share it.

This is a part of Dawson’s story. Here’s the first part:  A Life’s Mission

Dawson sat on his front porch, sticky from the dripping cherry Popsicle clutched tightly in his right hand. He ignored the sweat forming on his forehead as he enjoyed his treat. His dark eyes followed the neighborhood kids playing in the summer heat. Sarah, the little girl who lived next door, waved at him before hopping on her bicycle. Dawson waved as her back retreated from his vision. Inside, he could hear his parents engaging in their daily fighting. He tuned them out. He’d heard the fights so many times it was like listening to a song skipping on a cd.

His oldest brother, Jason, came out of the house, slamming the screen door behind him. He gave Dawson a sharp kick in his back, laughing as he dodged Dawson’s retaliating fist. The attempted punch caused Dawson’s Popsicle to fall from his hand. Jumping up, he lunged at Jason, fury propelling his actions. Jason yelped in surprise as a fist connected with his jaw. Jason shoved Dawson backwards into the screen door before leaping off the porch. A quick flip of the bird, Jason strolled away to find trouble. Dawson remained on the ground, fuming. He’d pay his brother back later when he least expected it.

“What the hell are you doing, Dawson?” his dad demanded, standing on the other side of the screen door, tilting a beer can to his mouth.

“Nothing. Jason pushed me down,” Dawson replied, examining the fresh-cut on his elbow.

“Quit starting fights with your brother,” his dad slurred. He stood staring at Dawson through blurry eyes. Shaking his head, he closed the front door.

Dawson stood up, brushing his jeans off. Elbow throbbing, he watched as the cut began to ooze blood. He was tired of his brother getting him in trouble. One day he’d be bigger and have the upper hand for once.

The cold air felt good against his wet forehead as he walked through the front door. His parents paid no attention to him as he made his way through the living room to the bathroom. Always invisible, even to his own parents, he thought. Nobody but that no good for nothing Jason paid attention to him. And maybe Sarah. He thought she had a crush on him. Or maybe she just felt sorry for him. He hadn’t decided which one.

His cut freshly washed and doctored with a crooked band-aid, Dawson headed to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Making as little sound as possible, he clumsily filled the glass half full. Standing in the corner, out of his dad’s sight, he was surprised to hear his name. Dawson started for the living room. He stopped short when he realized his parents were still arguing.

“I’m getting tired of living this lie, Nadine. It’s been ten years and every day I look at him, I go right back to what happened.”

“You said you forgave me for that, Charles. My God, how many times do I have to apologize? Hell, how many times have I forgiven you for all the crap you put me through?” His mother’s voice replied through clenched teeth.

“Forgive me? You wouldn’t have to forgive me if I didn’t have to relive it every day. For ten years,” his father snorted. “You and your holier than thou attitude. Wonder what the boys would really think if they knew the truth about their perfect mother.”

“Oh shut up, Charles. Don’t think I don’t know about Nora. You don’t think I haven’t noticed how she avoids me anymore? Think I haven’t noticed her belly swelling?” her voice rising as if playing a scale. “Is this payback? I have one, you have one?” she demanded.

Dawson’s dad threw his head back laughing. Chills ran through Dawson’s body at the sound of his dad’s contorted laughter. He wondered what he had to do with their conversation as his heart began racing. He seemed to be in a lot of their conversations lately.

Dawson’s dad stood up. He stumbled his way to his wife. Dawson had to strain to hear as his father leaned into his mother’s face.

“That’s right, Nadine. Now we both have a child that isn’t ours. You have Dawson. And I have one on the way.”

 
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Posted by on May 12, 2012 in Bloggy Moms

 

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