Of all the rash and midnight promises made in the name of love, none, Boone knew, was more certain to be broken than “I’ll never leave you.”

What time didn’t steal from under your nose, circumstance did. It was useless to hope otherwise, useless to dream that the world somehow meant you good. Everything of value, everything you clung to for your sanity, would rot or be snatched in the long run, and the abyss would gape beneath you, as it gaped for Boone now, and suddenly, without so much as a breath of explanation, you were gone. Gone to hell or worse, professions of love and all.

And I never thought that I could bring myself to say it again. Not even to you. Not ever in this lifetime again.

You, who brought living back to my life; you, who for me over these last few years, lost sanity and soul; you, who sacrificed your family for us; you have healed me.

Without you I am rot, I am insane, I am an abyss agape with hopelessness.

The whispers of broken promises will forever scar my body but my body is just a vessel. My body is a vessel of soul — a placid lake full of love for you — unscarred and brimming over.

My soul is yours.

I’ll never leave you.

© Periapex for The Periapex, 2008. | Permalink | One comment |

Andrew Burt and I don’t know each other personally, but we do have a long history together. Years ago, when the web was really young, Unix was in its hay day, blogs didn’t really exist, and I had a Commodore Amiga, I was a user on his free public internet system, Nyx. I used Nyx to host my “homepage” and telnet’d into it to play with Unix. Nyx, I believe, was one of the first freenet systems in existence at the time.

Nyx still remains free, but has changed owners. Aburt has moved on to other things. Among those things is Critters. Critters is best described in Aburt’s own words:

Critters is an on-line workshop/critique group for serious writers of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror. You get your work critiqued in exchange for critiquing the work of others, both of which are invaluable ways to improve your writing. It’s run by Dr. Andrew Burt, vice-president of SFWA and his army of software minions. Critters is free (except for the work of doing critiques!); if you find Critters useful, you may make a donation (appreciated but in no way required).

Critters requires some commitment on your part to keep up with critiques, but is most definitely an invaluable resource towards improving your writing. Critiquing other works requires analysis that is appropriate for your own work and, of course, having your work critiqued is a bonus.

If you write in one of the genres that Critters caters towards, be sure to check the site out. Let me know what you think of it.

© Periapex for The Periapex, 2008. | Permalink | 6 comments |

Lost in Darkness,
my life before
Meandering the sands
of a distant shore

But all I loved,
with all my core
continued my heart
there would be more

And then it was you,
upon this shore
And it was you,
forever more

For all my faults
which might not cure
Please keep me yours
forever more

For when we find
that life is yore
I will remain yours
forever more

© Periapex for The Periapex, 2008. | Permalink | 8 comments |

I first heard of it on Classic Rock Q107′s website. The morning guy, John Derringer, tried to read it on air one day and had a rough, rough time with it. Q107 took the audio clip off their site a while back and I’ve never been able to find it until recently.

[See post to listen to audio]

© Periapex for The Periapex, 2007. | Permalink | 2 comments |

“Wuh…Sorry, what was that?”

“A cigarette.”

“No, I don’t have any. I don’t smoke.”

“No, I meant…I could do with a cigarette…But with the indoor smoking ban…”

“Oh. Yeah, this city’s gotten pretty health conscious.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s a good thing though. It’s happening all around the country.”

“Can’t you go outside?”

“It’s really, really cold out there. Especially with what I’m wearing. Besides, I’m liking the piano guy too much right now, anyway,”

“Yeah, he’s playing pretty good.”

“The music’s ok.”

“Oh….”

“He’s kinda cute for an older man.”

“You prefer younger men.”

“I like men that I like.”

“Oh.”

“Well. Maybe I’ll go have a smoke. Will you be here in seven minutes?”

“Yeah, sure. Why?”

“I don’t wanna lose my spot. And I was gonna ask if I could borrow your suit jacket.”

“Can you ask someone else? I don’t smoke and I’d have to answer too many questions if my jacket smelled like smoke.”

“Yeah, the bartender knows me, I’ll borrow his coat.”

“And I don’t think you’ll have a problem finding a seat when you get back.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. This is an unremarkable airport hotel lobby bar after all.”

“Yup, my thinking is that four people—including the bartender—here late on a Monday night really need to find better things to do. I’d call this more of a lounge than a bar though. Don’t you think?”

“Lounge, bar, whatever, I think that this is such a jammin’ hot spot I’ve got to put it on my list of places to revisit. You’ll be here when I get back?”

“From your smoke? Yeah, I’m not planning on going anywhere soon. It’s been a really long day but I’ve got some thoughts to organize still.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You here on business?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Yep.”

“Ah.”

“…you don’t look like a business kinda guy.”

“No? How would I look if I was a business kinda guy?”

“I dunno, it’s just one of those vibes that people give off in these places. Maybe it’s the men-away-they-play thing.”

“That’s pretty stereotypical.”

“You might think so, but I was here before you came in.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And you didn’t notice me over there.”

“Was I suppose to?”

“Most guys do—the straight ones anyway. And like you said, there’s only four of us in this place.”

“I’m married.”

“I know. And so is everyone else here.”

“You’re married too?”

“Yup. I’m married and I’m married.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I’m married to my job, and I’m married with a ring.”

“Ah.”

“Am I disturbing you? I can go if I am.”

“What’s that?”

“Am I bothering you?”

“No, it’s ok, have a seat…please.”

“No, it’s ok, maybe in a few minutes when I get back.”

“Um. Ok.”

“I promise.”

“No problem. The seat isn’t going anywhere.”

“And you?”

“Sorry?”

“Will you be here when I get back?”

“Yup. Me, and my briefcase and all my stuff.”

“You know, you’re cute, but you’re too caught up in your work to notice.”

“I’m too busy to notice that I’m cute?”

“Yup.”

“Well that’s a strange thing to say.”

“Not really. I’ve got a cousin who is the hotness with women. He knows it and he works it. He would have looked at me over there.”

“Your cousin?”

”Yeah, but then he would have recognized I was his cousin. Although—well—Oh, nothing.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“You said although. Although what?”

“It’s not important.”

“Well now I’m interested.”

“Well. Cousins did get down and dirty in the old days.”

“Huh?”

“You know, the dark ages, B.C.—before Jesus. Cousins married cousins back then.”

“Yeah that’s true.”

“Yeah.”

“Well I’ll see you in a few minutes. Wait a sec, why did you come over here?”

“To see the piano man better.”

“But you’re not watching him.”

“We’ve been talking. And I just started imagining you in one of those wigs from those times when cousins married cousins.”

“I always used to wonder how people got anything done in all that get-up back then. You know, the fluff and corsets and wigs and shit.

“Guess getting the stuff off was the lead up to getting off.”

“Well I heard it helped to keep the body odour to a minimum.”

“Yeah, maybe until the clothes came off.”

“Heh. Yah…So…what’s your name?”

“Bea.”

“B? Your name is a single letter?”

“No B…E…A. It’s short for Beatrix with an X, like in dominatrix, you know. And you?”

“What’s that?”

“What’s your name?”

“Parker.”

“That’s your first name or last name?”

“First.”

“It’s more like a last name.”

“I like my name. It’s a good solid name. I think. My parents gave it to me you know.”

“Wow, really? Well mine is a bit dowdy, which is definitely not what I want to be.”

“You think so? I don’t agree. I’ve known Gladyses and Ednas and some of them have been pretty hot.”

“Really? So you’re a bit of a lady’s man with the gramma’s huh?”

“Hey!”

“Are you here with your wife?”

“No she gets too bored on my trips.”

“Ah. Well there are fun ways to fight boredom you know.”

“Yeah. She’d need to take time off from her work to travel with me though.”

“I see. So you’d rather meet strange women on your trips then.”

“What?!”

“Well there you are sitting drinking in a smokeless bar and talking to a woman about foreplay.”

“We’re not talking about foreplay—“

“—No, we’re not talking about it, we’re doing it.”

“What?”

“You and me, we’re…you know. Isn’t your heart racing–your juices flowing?”

“Uh..”

“Oh come on, don’t be such a prude.”

“I am not.”

“So?”

“Huh?”

“What do you say? No one’s gonna know.”

“I’m married.”

“It’s not love and commitment that I’m talking about.”

“No, we’re talking about temptation.”

“Yeah, and stripping away all pretences of corsets and wigs and fluff and getting dirty.”

“You’re married too.”

“Yeah, and I love him to death. But I haven’t been home in two months.”

“What do you think he would say if he knew?”

“Stupid question. He’d flip.”

“Doesn’t that mean something to you?”

“Of course, but like I said, he won’t find out. And I think you and me…well we could help each other iron out some issues tonight.”

“I need another drink. I thought you were going for a smoke?”

“Forget the smoke. I’d rather take a long slow drag on something else now.”

“I can’t. Sorry.”

“You mean you won’t.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“You’ve probably got a pretty good case of blue balls by now.”

“What the fuck?”

“So it’s a no then? You’re refusing the softest, wettest, invitation, you’re ever gonna get.”

“Oh, don’t worry babe. I’ve accepted lots in the past.”

“You weren’t good enough for them to stay with you?”

“You know what? You can stay here if you want. I’m gone.”

“Don’t you want to see what I’ve got going on under my hood? Feel my breath all over your body? Rut all night long and when the morning comes, never see me again?”

“…no…thanks. You’d…Like I said, I’m gonna go now. Thanks for the company.”

“Ok then. See ya Hon. Oh, there’s one more thing.”

“What?”

“Your wife asked me to give this to you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Here, open this envelope. It’s your invitation but it’s not from me. It’s from her. And it’s for when you get back home.”

“What the fuck?”

“You’re lookin’ and talking funny. I think things are backing up in you. You’d better run up to your room and take a load off, so to speak. I’ve got one more job tonight.”

“You bitch!”

“Yeah, comes with the job. But you should be proud of yourself.”

“Whatever. You women are fucking perverted manipulators.”

“Hope you’re not including your wife there.”

“Oh yeah I am.”

“I’m sure you’ll see things a little differently when you get back home. She does love you lots you know.”

“For fuck sakes.”

“It’s because she loves you that she had to test you.”

“Life already has enough tests. I don’t need her to get involved.”

“I know. She said that your company has been laying off. Well, let’s just say that this is the test. Those few who pass this one just…let’s say…they pass for life. So you think about that. Say Hi to Cassie when you get home…but I’m sure you will. I’ll let her know that she won’t need a wig or lots of frills or a corset. In fact, I’ll let her know that she only needs to open the door for you. Ciao!”

“And fuck you too.”

© Ameloblast for The Periapex, 2006. | Permalink | 3 comments |

When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend.

Whenever I was “bad,” you’d shake your finger at me and ask “How could you?” — but then you’d relent and roll me over for a belly rub.

My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect.

We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because “ice cream is bad for dogs” you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.

She, now your wife, is not a “dog person” — still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy.

Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a prisoner.

As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch — because your touch was now so infrequent — and I would’ve defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.

There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered “yes” and changed the subject. I had gone from being “your dog” to “just a dog,” and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.

Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You’ve made the right decision for your “family,” but there was a time when I was your only family.

I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said “I know you will find a good home for her.” They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with “papers.”

You had to pry your son’s fingers loose from my collar as he screamed, “No, Daddy! Please don’t let them take my dog!” And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.

You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked “How could you?”

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago.

When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room.

She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days.

As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.

She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago.

She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured “How could you?”

Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said “I’m so sorry.” She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn’t be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself –a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place.

And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my “How could you?” was not directed at her. It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty as I did.

– Jim Willis, 2002.

© Periapex for The Periapex, 2006. | Permalink | 3 comments |

My first memories are vague, but I remember playing with my sisters and brother in a grassy field. The grass was tall, but not tall enough to cover us over completely. It was Summer and we ran at each other, jumped, and rolled, and smelled the freshness of the day. They taught me to follow them and to eat last. Because there were so many of us, I would sometimes not have a place next to my Mom, but eventually she would see me and take me in and let me eat.

I remember my Mom, she almost looked like me, but was taller. I did not have a father to follow or learn from and I don’t remember seeing a Girl or Boy back then. My brother and sisters and Mom were good to me anyway, and although they got the best parts of the food, they always made sure that I got something also.

It was a foggy day, I remember, when some men noisily arrived and cornered all of us against a wooden fence in that grassy field. My brother fought hard and made lots of noise, but we were all so small. The men seemed concerned for their safety, but had no trouble picking us all up and putting us in a big Kar. I didn’t know what to do, so I stayed quiet.

I never saw the rest of my family after that. We were separated. I was placed in a new home of hard concrete. There was no grass and the place smelled like too many sad dawgs. And I saw eventually that there were lots of sad dawgs. Some were old, some were younger than me, but all of us were sad. We were sad that we couldn’t be back with our families and that we couldn’t play freely in the grass that we knew. What wrong did I do to be here? Where was my brother? Or my sisters, or my Mother?

The boys and girls at the Human Society looked after me and took me for walks sometimes. I could see how sad they were that they couldn’t roll in the grass with us also. I remember thinking that I would look after them if I could. But I was too small and when they closed the door to my home, I wasn’t strong enough to open it to go looking for them.

One day, a little girl, a big Girl and a big Boy came and walked around the dawg homes at the Human Society. The little girl looked at me and smiled and reminded me of my youngest sister. I told her how cute she was and tried to lick her through my door.

The girl asked the Boy if she could take me home. The big Girl said no, that I was too big and I looked like a Rotterwaller which is a dangerous dawg. They continued to walk around looking at the other dawgs. The little girl kept coming back to me and I kept trying to lick her. Although her Mom didn’t like me, the little girl eventually convinced the big Girl and Boy to take me to their home.

I was so happy to have a home to call my own again. And I was happy to have people who would care for me and whom I could care for. They even bought me a red Kong to play with. I wanted to stay there so much that I even tried to learn to pee where they told me to pee. It was hard to do.

But then I saw the Kat. I knew that I had smelled something strange in the house and then there he was walking slowly like he owned the place. That made me so mad! It wasn’t his place, the owners were the same people that owned me and he should have been showing them love and affection and respect. But no, he almost seemed to expect them to always make sure that his food bowl was full; that his water bowl had cold water; and that they would play with him only when he wanted them to. I bet he couldn’t even protect the house like I could if strangers tried to come in.

It must have been the second or third day that I was in my new home that I just couldn’t help myself anymore. The Kat was sitting up on the top of the couch looking at me like like he was the king of the house. I wasn’t allowed on the couch, so why should he be on it? I started barking at him but he just kept looking at me. I moved closer and barked louder. He started to bath himself. That was it! I jumped on him. You should have seen him run all around the house trying to get away from me. I knocked a couple of things over chasing him but I know I taught him a lesson.

The Girl came running over after hearing the noise and started shouting at me. She grabbed me by the neck and put me in the laundry room and closed the door. It must have been hours that I tried to get out of that dark room but then I heard the Boy come home and in my excitement, I peed on the dryer.

The Girl and Boy spoke about me for a while. I know because I heard my name yelled out a few times.

The next day I was back at the Human Society.

Some of the dawgs that I had known from before were still there, but all of the small yappy ones were gone. Most of the dogs were black like me and many were taller. They were all just as sad as when I had left. I was sadder. I couldn’t understand what I had done wrong. All I had done was try to show Kat that he should love the Boy, Girl, and girl as I did because they were the ones who looked after us and gave us what no other people would.

I settled into my home at the Human Society expecting to stay a while just like the other big black dawgs. I did notice, however, that the Boy, Girl, and girl had left me my red Kong.

I think I was at the Human Society for a day or two and starting to feel really depressed. Some of the other dogs had been there for months and just laid on the floor of their homes and whined. I was learning from them and tried to do the same thing but it brought me no happiness. My Kong was a familiar toy and I tossed it around. It would have been nice to have someone toss it to me though.

I first saw My Boy while I was lying on the floor of my home trying to whine like the other dawgs. My Girl was just behind him but she seemed to be looking for a different dawg. I liked the Girl, I felt that she knew dawgs and what they wanted, but she walked past my home while the Boy stopped and looked down at me. I grabbed my Kong and tried to push it through the door to give it to the Boy to throw for me but it wouldn’t fit through the mesh. The Boy looked at me and smiled and called the Girl back.

It was a long drive to their home and they have taught me a lot since I’ve been here. Because of all the time that they spend with me I’m a much better dawg now. I know so much more and am very happy. I dream that I am with them forever. I hope that this is possible.

I think I love them. If love is staying close on a winter’s day to warm you up, or protecting you from the things that I can see, hear, or smell better than you, or keeping you safe in our home, or being with you when you aren’t feeling well, I think I love them. Because they do these things for me.

But I still remember my Mom and my brother and my sisters and wonder where they are today and hope that they have found a life as happy as mine. I wonder if my friends at the Human Society are still there or if they are now in a better home like me.

As my last will and testament, besides the red Kong, to my brothers Sundance and Hector, and to my sister Polly I leave all the toys that the Boy and Girl have given to me. My toys are all that I have in this world except my love. I have already given my love to the Boy and Girl, but if any is left after I’m gone I want them to have that also. I want them to know that they have given me a life as close to the life I had with my mother, brother, and sisters as they could have and I wish the best for them.

To the Boy, I give my red Kong. I hope that when he is sad it will bring him the same luck and companionship it brought me. And to the Girl I give my everlasting protection. I promise to always be near her side in body or spirit and keep her as safe as she has me my entire life.

When my last sunset passes and my body is laid to rest, my final wish is to once again be with my mother. I’m sure I will see her then but I hope that it will be in a field of grass as tall as us and that when we run through it without burden the air will be cool on our noses and the Sun will shine on us and the days of humans will fade from our time like the whisper of the wind past my ears. This I wish with all my heart. This I feel within my soul.

© Ameloblast for The Periapex, 2005. | Permalink | 4 comments |