Spiritual Guidance –

“She’s not showing any interest in me and she looks like she doesn’t want to be here. Should I take off her handcuffs? I thought kidnap victims were supposed to fall in love with their captors?
” ― Jarod Kintz
 

horrorchic87

Help me! I can’t see and my eye is swollen and throbbing, my lips cracked and parched, and I taste blood. He has me bound and my breathing’s painful from what I think are my broken ribs. I cough up blood and spit it out on my dress, why did I think he’d take care of me, protect me and guide me? That innocent dream’s gone as I hear the sound of his breathing in the next room. Does anyone know I’m here? Does anyone care? I should’ve made different choices, followed advice, and been more careful. This is my fault isn’t it? I begged for this he said, because I dressed the way I did. My walk was the lure, because my hips swayed a little too much, because I was confident and had long hair that fueled his desire. I struggled against the stiffness settling in on my body and mind, perhaps the shock’s wearing off. God I hope someone is praying for me. I feel around trying to find something that will help me out of here. As I fumbled around I bumped the door and it budged! Peering out of the small crack I see evidence of him all over, liquor bottles and clutter. Opening the door a little farther and I notice that he’s passed out on the chair with drug shit all over the table in front of him. Seeing my chance , I struggled to stand and barely made it up before falling with a thud on the floor. A shudder of stifled terror filled my panicked breaths believing that the fall would wake him. With my head on the floor I saw a knife just at the edge of the couch. With great effort I managed to get my hands on it, and began cutting the leather belt that held my hands. Damn the movies make this look easy, but it takes for fucking ever to do it and I manage to give myself quite a few slices before I’m actually am free. My adrenaline is kicking in hard but it beats back the haze that’s growing over my thoughts and making me dizzy when I stand. I hold the knife firmly, thinking that as I work my way past him I would drive it right through his eye, but I didn’t, I just wanted out of here and a chance to live. I didn’t think I wanted to live and I’m ashamed now knowing how bad I just want out of this and to be alive. I opened the door and ran through the street grabbing a cab that happened to be dropping off his passenger. I should go to the cops, but I don’t, I just go back to my apartment. He knows me and he’ll be back, after all, every pastor should know where the ladies in his congregation live.

Also published in Opinionsofeye.com

Hammer – Wisdom in the glyphs

 “All our words are but crumbs that fall down from the feast of the mind.”
Kahlil Gibran, Sand and Foam
My dwarven frame easily pulled the hammer from the tree. Only the handle revealed what nature had covered in growth, the bark swelling over the mauls head, hiding its width. Lightning is what freed the dull aged tool from its captivity in the trees belly. I studied it with curiosity, swinging it and flipping it in my hand with instinctual proficiency. My trade gave me ample strength, spending long hours with pick and spade pulling trinkets from greedy stones in the ground. Thinking nothing of it, I slung it across my back and meandered down the muddy trail. Noon came, and looking for my daily treat of fruit from my trees, I discovered that all within easy reach were picked clean. I’m not lazy but I really didn’t want to climb my bulky girth up those darned trees, so with my dwarven ingenuity, I thought to sling my hammer into the tree to obtain my bounty. With a mighty heave my new friend flew into the fruit laden branches dropping their delicious meals in a scattered buffet. Thinking the hammer to have gone through the branches and fallen elsewhere, I turned to the fruit. Right as I bent over, I heard a rustle and whoosh behind me. Turning to see what fate had in store I caught the hammer right in the chest. Knocking me to ground, I liedthere stunned by a new bruise and this thought, “the hammer came back!” Now that I knew what to expect, I played with it. I enjoyed this little trick of magic that made life easy, however, at times I grew angry and threw her without a thought and she, being without mercy, would come back with her own ferocity and near take my head off. After suffering one to many broken ribs and a couple of black eyes, which, if not for my dwarven constitution, may have knocked me senseless and never to recover, I rubbed her and looked closely. During my curious examination I saw, in dirty and molded letters, this inscription, “Be vigilant where you throw me, for I am your word”.