Sonnet 3

Image courtesy of Stockvault.

Sonnet #3

There is light which heralds the coming day,
Darkness to oppress all in fearsome night,
And tears to wash painful mistakes away,
While the mind holds firm to timid fright.

In this dark no flower takes root or blooms,
Salty tears cannot nourish thirsty earth.
Bereft of needed love, alone entombs
A heart which forgets its soul and its worth.

But your love, light which darkness can’t abide.
Your friendship, shelter from being alone.
Your warmth, strength to do what has not been tried.
Your soul, which has given me back my own.

There is no light that outshines your love,
In Earth below or in heaven above.

Author’s Note: I’ve taken a break from writing scary stuff to have another crack at sonnets. This is a Sonnet in the Shakespearean style. I hope I am improving.

When Hobbies Pay Off

Image courtesy of Stockvault.

Today I moved some pepper plants from their germination pods to larger pots. I intend to produce more peppers of different varieties. Right now I have jalapenos, ghost peppers, reapers, habaneros (white and orange), tabascos, and a bunch of bell peppers. All of this is in addition to the massive numbers of tomato plants that I did not expect. And if that wasn’t enough, I’m growing carrots, radishes, onions, and lettuce.

Right now there’s a lot of worry going around the world. My personal worries have been mitigated by being able to grow things. It feels good to be able to grow something I will get to enjoy later. Most likely I’ll have spare tomatoes, too.

Another thing I’ve been doing is learning to cook different things. I’ve made donuts in the past, and I’ve got yeast that is about to expire. In an effort to avoid waste, I’m going to be making a ton of donuts and maybe some more bread. So far I’m just doing glazes – vanilla, Nutella, and lemon. We’ll see how they turn out.

Sometimes when life gets weird, people have to make their own version of normal. Instead of being sequestered, it can be a time to learn a new hobby or practice an existing one. You never know when it might pay off.

The Silence

Image courtesy of Stockvault.

March 18, 2030 is a day everything goes silent. The time is always when the Sun reaches its highest point. I keep track with a sundial, not a watch.

Electricity switches off. Lights go out. The noise of radios, computers, phones, they all go quiet. Even generators don’t work. Anything that needs power dies in a loud chorus of nothing.

Water stops flowing. Rivers settle their flows into placid mirrors of a dead sky. Waterfalls dry up at the top and pool at the bottom. The liquid that life depends on stays stagnant frozen in place without lowering the thermometer.

The wind stops blowing. Trees do not sway. Heat lingers heavily on the places it last rests. Chill weather becomes bearable without the cut of a breeze.

Wildlife stops moving. Insects and birds fall from the sky, landing in the same position like they are trapped in amber. Larger animals stop moving. They are now statues and monuments to what used to be and not what is.

And, worst of all, people all freeze in place. They are trapped in something nameless, their last acts defining their existence. People freeze mid-stride along the sidewalk in a bustling city. Couples freeze in the act of lovemaking. Families that lead boring lives sit with eyes fixed on electronic gadgets that are just as dead inside as they are.

I am the only one who can see all this. The whole world freezes when the Sun climbs to its resting place. It stays there, while I’m able to move and scream and run and let loose all the terrible things I feel. In a world robbed of all sound and movement, I am the only one able to experience it.

Then, at a later moment I am not sure of, everything goes back to normal. Whatever held the world captive releases its grip. Everyone goes on oblivious to the wondrous thing that just happened.

A day later, when the Sun makes its ascent, I go out to the park. I sit on a bench next to the sundial. When the Sun reaches its zenith, everything happens all over again.

March 19, 2030 is a day everything goes silent.

Buying Books

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I have to admit that ever since finding out how writers are paid for their work, I’ve changed how I buy books. I started going back to bookstores. Online, I try buying used books instead of new ones at a discount.

Writing fiction that people would pay to read takes a ton of work. A person can’t just sit down and an hour later have a published work of fiction. Often little or no money gets to the writer. And competition is fierce for paid work.

Novels take a while to write, rewrite, and edit. All that time gets sunk into a work that nobody knows will be accepted or even good enough to think about getting paid for it. Self-published writers get to tack on weeks and months of shouting into the electronic wilderness of the Internet in the hopes that enough people will come out of the trees and buy your book.

Considering all of what goes into a novel, the price of a new book is reasonable. I didn’t always think this way. Twenty bucks for a book? Yeah, that’s an author’s blood and soul chained in black ink to a page. It’s worth it to me, even if I’d have to buy fewer books than I’d like.