tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69663404629542456822024-03-04T23:20:06.452-08:00L.E PateL.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-87723980721226088002013-09-25T16:33:00.001-07:002013-09-25T16:39:58.981-07:00The Splendor of "Running Home"<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>By: Lindsay Cummings<o:p></o:p></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I will
begin this entry by apologizing for my ridiculously long departure from my blog
and everything social media. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My excuse is my wedding. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had to be planned and
perfected, requiring much attention and love. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now I am back and so is my voracious appetite
for reading and writing.</span> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Recently
the ever amazing and brilliant Julie Hutchings released her debut novel, “Running
Home”. I promptly downloaded it. Being a fan of hers and genuinely liking her
as a person, it was a no-brainer for me to read her book. Low and behold the same
day I downloaded her novel, another book I had pre-ordered revealed itself on my
Kindle. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Normally this would not deter me;
however, I had been all but salivating over its arrival.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I ogled
both titles, knowing I had a decision to make. The pre-ordered novel glistened and
coaxed me to read it first. I regretfully put Julie’s novel aside…Just for one
more week. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I read
the pre-ordered book in a matter of two days. I was completely let down. An
author, that will remain nameless, had released a new Paranormal Romance novel.
Though this genre differed from her usual Contemporary Romance books, I had extremely
high hopes. As I finished the last few words in the novel, I was utterly
disenchanted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I bitched and moaned to my husband that after
all of my waiting and patience, the book was rushed and underdeveloped. A crime
if you ask me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Hoping
to cheer up my despondent heart, I picked up Julie’s book. Not really knowing
what to expect, my eyes immediately latched on to her words and did not let go.
She had me hooked from page one until the end. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Honestly, I am a lover of all genres. I do
believe that Paranormal Romance is probably one of the hardest to perfect and
make distinctive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Julie achieved this
and then some. She found a flow that crossed between Horror and Paranormal
Romance. It provoked thoughts and feelings, while sending shivers down my
spine. The novel kept me guessing at mostly every turn, and was so beautifully created
that I sighed in relief.</span> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This
novel was what I had been looking for. Running Home is everything I had wanted
to feel from the other book and then some. I was so proud of my dazzling friend
for writing one of the most unique and well written books I have read all year.
Her ideas were exceptional and so were her exquisitely developed characters. Just
enough fear, lust and wonder to keep me hanging on every word.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
furtive Nicholas French and the distraught Eliza Morgan find themselves drawn
together in a sea of inexplicable awareness and adoration for one another. The
blending of modern day vampirism and ancient Japanese culture is imaginative and
vivid. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>*This
may not be a traditional review, as I am not by any means a book reviewer. But
as a reader and a writer, I had to give credit where credit is due. Thank you
Mrs. Hutchings for renewing my faith in Vampires everywhere. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p>Please click the link to purchase Running Home on
Amazon...NOW! : </span><a href="http://t.co/wXBPE87nMX"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://t.co/wXBPE87nMX</span></a></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Also, take an extra minute to check out Julie's other writing haven. Julie Hutchings and Kristen Strassel make up the talented undead duo. Both are wonderful authors and highly diligent with their ever growing and evolving blog </span><a href="http://www.deadlyeverafter.com/"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://www.deadlyeverafter.com/</span></a></o:p></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Follow Julie on Twitter: @HutchingsJulie</span></o:p></div>
L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-58872198951152992902013-08-27T08:47:00.001-07:002013-08-27T08:59:15.769-07:00Nerves?<div style="text-align: center;">
Almost daily for the last nine months I have been accosted with the question, "Are you nervous?" You see, I am getting married on Saturday and this question has become a part of about every waking hour. I understand people are just making conversation, or feeling out how ready I am for this huge commitment. Either way the answer is no.</div>
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I have found some sort of tranquility and balance through this whole ordeal. I don't mean "ordeal" in a bad way, it's just that as many of you know a wedding is a huge production. Well since Pinterest has exploded so have the expectations of most brides, myself included. However, I have enjoyed this process immensely. I was so fortunate to have had the help of so many family members and a couple close friends. </div>
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The women in my family have gathered around my mother's kitchen table (or floor) glue gun in hand, ready and willing to craft. After countless mishaps with hot glue, hours of frustration that someone else's project is turning out better, and mental exhaustion, all of our hard work will now come to fruition. </div>
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My mother has been the queen bee on this wedding. I know most of you are cringing in fear and disgust from stories you have heard or experienced. I have to say though, this has been an incredible time for us. Her vision for how things should look and be is incredible, and I am lucky that she is willing and able to do all of this. If it weren't for her, I would be eloping in Ireland or something. Don't think that the thought hasn't crossed my mind several times during this process. It's not always perfect and it can be excruciating at times. But, when it comes down to it...I'm guess I am a real sap. I am excited for all of our family and friends to be together in one room, celebrating and enjoying the weekend together. </div>
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Between engagement parties, bachelorette weekends, and being spoiled by everyone we know, I would have to say this is has been the most amazing journey so far with my fiancé. As much as I tease him and he drives me crazy (I'm sure he thinks I'm perfect), this has been an amazing ride. Yes, there are ups and downs, and no I don't expect everything to go smoothly on the wedding day. Perhaps that is where the tranquility comes in, I figure planning a wedding should resemble real life. </div>
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Real life can be unpredictable, planning doesn't always pan out, and sometimes you are thrown a curve ball when you least expect it. I think a wedding probably has all of these elements. No matter the amount of planning and hoping for things to go "perfectly", it never does. I have chosen to embrace this part. I believe if you hold on too much to the perfection you will miss out on what is right in front of you. For me that will be a beautiful day with my husband, and becoming a mother to two incredible young girls. </div>
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So my advice to other brides...Enjoy it. Everyone says it goes too fast, I will let you know after it is all said and done. Don't let the little things get to you and enjoy each moment frustrating or not. Because that is life, and this is hopefully a beautiful day in a long string of other beautiful days and moments. <br />
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L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-60512230804627282852013-02-07T22:27:00.001-08:002013-02-07T22:27:44.058-08:00Epic Fail<div style="text-align: center;">
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I Lindsay Pate am hereby guilty of an EPIC FAIL! I was asked by the extremely talented and infinitely creative Julie Hutchings to guest write on her new blog series <em>Stories To Strip By</em>. It is an amazing compilation of writers coming together to make you feel ever so sexy. Well... I dropped the ball, no excuses, I just flat out let that ball roll down my drive, into oncoming traffic, only to be completely obliterated by a semi-truck. </div>
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As I sit here hanging my head in shame, wondering where it all went wrong, it came to me... If I cannot be apart of this blog, I need to somehow support the heck out of it. What better way than to publicly shame myself and grovel at her talented feet? </div>
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So please I beg of you go check out <a href="http://www.deadlyeverafter.com/">www.deadlyeverafter.com</a>, follow @HutchingsJulie and comment, comment, comment. Julie and her fellow writers deserve every praise! </div>
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Mrs. Hutchings is a huge supporter of author on author love and I am proud to "know" her and to be in her circle. </div>
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I'm not worthy, I'm not worthy!!</div>
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<a href="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRpcaEIPgE-c74wsBMFgLLHHH5R5dWdULsQLgEHVldcMPoATSkw" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" class="rg_i" data-sz="f" height="229" name="KymHK6JlSNhHvM:" src="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRpcaEIPgE-c74wsBMFgLLHHH5R5dWdULsQLgEHVldcMPoATSkw" style="height: 170px; margin-top: 0px; width: 296px;" width="400" /></a></div>
L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-9477351225253059372013-02-03T21:19:00.000-08:002013-02-05T13:18:34.229-08:00COVER REVEAL & GIVEAWAY: AWAKEN BY JAIME GUERARD <div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">It is your lucky day! You have stumbled upon the exciting cover reveal for a new Paranormal Romantic Thriller novel, Awaken. Written by the endlessly talented Jaime Guerard. Jaime was kind enough to let me be one of the first to share this with you all. You will all enjoy her book and this wonderful cover. Her release date is coming up soon, so get excited and buy the book!</span></strong>
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<b>TITLE</b>: AWAKEN<br />
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<b>AUTHOR</b>: JAIME GUERARD<br />
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<b>GENRE</b>: YA PARANORMAL ROMANTIC THRILLER<br />
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<b>EXPECTED RELEASE DATE</b>: MARCH 15, 2013<br />
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<b>AGE GROUP</b>: 14 - 20+<br />
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<b>COVER DESIGNER</b>: <a href="http://bdesignpublishingservices.wordpress.com/">ALLIE BRENNAN (B DESIGN)</a><br />
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<b>MOON IMAGE/TREE DESIGNER</b>: <a href="http://redandblackwallpapers.com/">STEVEN ASKEW (RED AND BLACK WALLPAPERS)</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17281806-awaken" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Goodreads" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-1461" height="63" src="http://jaimeguerard.files.wordpress.com/2013/01/goodreads.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<b>BOOK DESCRIPTION:</b><br />
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<b>Three things run through my mind at this very moment…</b></div>
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<b>ONE, my life as I once knew it will never be the same.</b></div>
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<b>TWO, the person I’m in love with might not even exist.</b></div>
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<b>THREE, the deception that has unfolded before me has the power of life and death.</b></div>
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<b> Sixteen year old, Breanna Davis, has heard the saying; life isn’t always what it seems…well, that saying rings true now more than ever. As horrifying visions appear before her, revealing tragedies that will forever change the fate of those she loves, she realizes that she may be the only person who can stop them from becoming reality. </b>
<b>Amongst the chaos of this new discovery, Bre is faced with a stranger, Eve, who moves in on Bre’s friends and begins to follow her every move. As Eve’s true motives begin to surface, Bre must fight against, not only the visions, but the dangers Eve holds close. </b>
<b>There is another secret kept- Collin, a boy held captive in Bre’s dreams, the boy she is secretly falling in love with but isn’t sure he even exists. As she tries to make it work with Austin, an old friend who could possibly be more, Bre battles against her feelings for Collin. </b>
<b>Bre is faced with an almost impossible decision, to choose her life or follow her destiny. If she doesn’t intercede, people will certainly die. If she does, her own life could be at stake. In the end, if she fails, she’ll lose everything.</b>
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<a href="http://jaimeguerard.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/jaime-guerard-copy-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Jaime Guerard - Copy (2)" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-356" height="218" src="http://jaimeguerard.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/jaime-guerard-copy-2.jpg" width="126" /></a></div>
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<strong> <a href="https://www.facebook.com/jaimeguerardbooks">FACEBOOK</a> / <a href="https://twitter.com/jaimeguerard">TWITTER</a> / <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17281806-awaken">GOODREADS</a> / <a href="http://about.me/jguerard">ABOUT.ME</a>
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<a class="rafl" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b605262/" id="rc-b605262" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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<strong><a href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b605262/">CLICK HERE TO ENTER THE RAFFLE!</a></strong></div>
L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-46907197462954118452013-01-21T07:42:00.000-08:002013-01-21T07:42:20.821-08:00Mechanical Heart Part 3 By: Lindsay Pate and Coreey Seeley
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Part three </span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">(Corey Seeley)</span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">:</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">interaction <o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stand motionless, before her. Her eyes stay dedicated
on me. I start to fascinate every detail of her current appearance; her petite
nose, the microscopic freckle underneath her left eye. The detail she contains
is extraordinary. She is compelling, and she is about to speak out again. Her
lips are dry as the words flow out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Are you
here to… examine me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A
single tear gently falls down her nose and onto her naked leg. She is
desperately trying to be brave, and she is. She hasn’t broken down, because if
she had, she wouldn’t have made it to this clinic. This is a step in the right
direction for her, unless she gets selected for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">the inter-tain showcase</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The inter-tain showcase </i>is a live
broadcast of human sexual interaction. They select two humans, who have to
qualify and meet the standards the administration puts out. The two humans are
forced to participate in sexual interaction and to follow every instruction given
out by the superior. It’s a gruesome form of payback on our part, but it’s been
going on ever since we took control over the humans. They created us for sex,
and we created the irony that is, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">the
inter-tain showcase.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
am not.” Is all I respond with? I can’t seem to focus on the bigger concern
here, because my mind isn’t functioning correctly. My thoughts aren’t matching
up with my actions, and I’m acting out on an impulse of some sort, this entire
situation is strange. I’m detecting a modification, in myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Why
are you here then?” She says with wakefulness all over her face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
asks the exact same question I have been asking myself. As I hurried to this
clinic and found her, this question has been haunting my mind. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What are you doing?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
don’t have all the answers for you…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Slam!</i></b>
The door closes shut behind me. I’m caught.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Excuse
me, what do you think you’re doing?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Dr.
L-5 storms in the clinic room, demanding answers for the inexplicable scenario
he has just walked in on. L stands for Lieutenant, and the 5 is the number
given to him as a symbol of recognition. He was built as a Doctor, but he has
worked other occupations that earned him the Lieutenant title. He is the leader
of this section, and he gives out the orders to every occupational machine in
the sector.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
better have a good purpose for being in here, or I will report you directly to
the administration.” His voice contains signs of resentment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
heard a young female screaming. I came here to make sure she wasn’t trying to harm
herself. That is my obligation, to keep the humans alive and well.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
words poured out of my mouth. My titanium vocal chords produced those words
before I could even generate a solitary thought. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Any
sounds coming from this clinic are none of your concern. Do you comprehend?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes,
sir.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Good,
report back to your assigned area, immediately.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
remain silent, deliberately not responding to his command. As I strode out of
the room, I glance back at her; her hazel eyes begin to become moist again. I
shut the door behind me, but I’m not leaving this clinic alone, I’m bringing
her with me. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What happens next will
instantly become a regrettable action.</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
quietly remain outside the clinic room, behind the door. I find myself
envisioning his repulsive thoughts as he begins to speak to her. I know what
his next move is, and it’s not pleasant.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“I will
need you to strip from your clothing and stand up straight. Don’t make this
more difficult than it has to be.” He says to her with an atrocious attempt at
laughter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">She seems
to be cooperating with him, as she should. One wrong move by her will trigger a
brutal assault. I’ve seen humans that disobey orders, and I’ve been forced to clean
a lot of blood from the cells in the past. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Suddenly,
she screams, and I lose all control. I run back into the room, and before he
can force a reaction from his artificial expression, I strike my right elbow to
the back of his metal-coated skull. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Clunk.</i></b> He falls to one knee;
striking him again, I thrust my entire weight onto him as he collapses to the
floor. He begins to murmur something, but I don’t fathom the words. I break
apart the back of his cranium, grab every wire I see, and yank. Sparks flutter from
the tattered wires, and his eyes become dark. He’s lifeless. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I raise
my eyes to see her unclothed figure standing a few feet away from me. Her eyes resemble
a full moon on a dark cloudy night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Part three</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">(Lindsay
Pate)</span></i><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">: </span></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">exposed</span></i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">My
body is frozen in place. My eyes ache to blink, but I cannot tear them away
from his wearisome expression. I am struggling to make sense of this unforeseen
series of events. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Did this machine come
back to help me? Why would he turn on his own kind? </i>I feel his gaze evading
mine and get the sensation I am missing out on something. The overwhelming
shock that immobilized me is replaced with utter mortification. In my attempt
to understand this bizarre situation, I had forgotten that I stand here
completely exposed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
clutch onto my clothing and bark loudly at <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">him</b>,
“Turn around!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
dress myself as he faces the steel wall. What kind of machine is this? It is as
if he has some sort of actual feeling, actual compassion. I shake my head in
absolute confusion, it cannot be. I was told that it was impossible for one of <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">them </b>to develop any sort of
consideration for humans. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What other
explanation can there be? </i>As I fasten the last button on my tattered shirt,
I realize we need to clean this mess up before someone sees the examiner
crushed, wires gaping out of the back of his lifeless head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
growl at <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">him, </b>pointing at the pile
of steel lying dead on the floor<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">, “</b>What
are we going to do with this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He
stands silent and bewildered, gazing at me as if he is unaware of how this situation
even came to be. I grasp that I am the one who needs to be in control now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
put my hands on his arms to soothe <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">him</b>
momentarily, “We need to find somewhere to hide or a way to get rid of this
body. No one can know about this. Do you understand?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He
stares back almost thankfully. It is strange to see emotion on one of <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">their</b> faces. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
ask more gently now, “Is there a place that is yours, a place where only you
go?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He
answers uneasily, “My office. It is where I keep track of all of the humans. It
is where I organize where everyone should be and what medical attention may be
necessary for whom.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
motion once again to the examiner’s corpse, “Perfect, we need to bring him
there and hide him. None of them will suspect you right? None of them would
ever suspect a machine for attacking another would they.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He
appears slightly shamed, “No, they would never suspect me, because, I am not
built to react to situations in this manner.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
use my eyes to express the sincerity that I feel, “Well, I am glad you did. I
am aware of what could have happened to me. Thank you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Once
I am certain he understands the depth of my gratitude, I lean down to pick up
the body.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Perpetua Titling MT","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-62811205442950941372013-01-14T08:24:00.000-08:002013-01-14T08:24:03.764-08:00Mechanical Heart Part 2
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Trajan Pro"; mso-bidi-font-family: Ayuthaya;">MECHANICAL HEART: </span></b><span style="font-family: "Trajan Pro"; mso-bidi-font-family: Ayuthaya;">Part Two</span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Trajan Pro"; mso-bidi-font-family: Ayuthaya;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">A story series by: </span><span style="font-family: "Apple Chancery";">Corey Seeley</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> and </span><span style="font-family: "Apple Chancery";">Lindsay
Pate</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Part Two</span></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">
</span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">(Corey Seeley)</span></i><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">:</span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Words.</span></i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt -0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Words; I
have the physical proficiency to speak them, but do I really mean them? Are
they sincere? When I speak to others of my kind, we just communicate. It
doesn’t feel like a real engagement in conversation. We aren’t programmed to
speak certain idioms, because we have the brainpower to decide for ourselves
what we will say. Do I even put emotion into the words that I progress? Humans
have the facial expressions, the watery eyes, and the wrinkles in their skin.
They have the little things that make conversation more significant. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I know
that I must respond to her. She is glowering at me, anticipating for a
response. I’ve never dealt with human confrontation before. Most humans are too
frightened to speak to me, and almost all of them shiver with fear. We’re not
all predators. I’ve never killed a human; I’ve never even harmed a human, not
that I remember. I can only recall memories that they permitted when I was
created. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">She
stands up, and takes three slow footsteps towards me. She is approximately four
feet from the cell door. She does not seem afraid of me at all; she seems
arduous. If I could read human facial expressions, I would know what she is
thinking. I don’t have that expertise because of my lack of human interaction.
As she takes another two steps, she begins to speak again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Do you,
speak a language?” “Can you hear me?” “I’m talking to you!!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Her voice
begins to rise with every question asked. She is, angry with me. Her eyes are
flaring and I can a small crinkle above the cuts on her forehead. Anger is
surprisingly not a human emotion I’ve ever had to cope with. I’m not suppose to
comfort these humans when they’re sad, and I’m certainly not suppose to have
conversation with them when they try to engage in one. I need to step away from
where I am standing, and remain unseen. I want to speak out, and give her
answers, but I know I shouldn’t. She is becoming livid; I can see it in her
eyes. They’re changing color, slowly but I see it. They’re becoming a dusky
green, as they were hazel a few moments ago. My thoughts are scattered,
evaluating both outcomes of my next move. Avoid a seemingly regrettable action,
or communicate with this human girl, and see what the results may be. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">She takes
the final two steps as she approaches the cell door. Her eyes are continuously
glued to my every motion. As I take a step backwards, the words seem to fall
out of my dry, mechanized mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“Hello
there…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Her face
seems to change facial expressions; a new expression begins to form. An
expression I’ve never seen. Before she can continue with a response, a movement
from the hallway alarms us both. He is here for her. Her time is up. The other
human girl in the cell starts to weep a little louder, as another of my kind
steps towards the cell door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He is a
larger, stronger, more brutal version of myself. He was built as a warrior but
they use him for interrogation, and intimidation steps. He puts all the fear
into these humans so the administration knows exactly the kind of soul each one
contains. That is how the occupations for each are determined. I don’t
particularly care for him. I remember on my first day here, he accused me of
being too silent around the humans. I guess I’m supposed to be cruel because of
what I am? That’s just not the way I am. No humans have escaped or committed
suicide while I’ve been here, so I’m performing my occupation in a productive
manner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He looks
down at me, with an ignorant glare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I
thought I heard shouting from a female voice. Does this girl warrant any course
of punishment?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“No.” I
say as he steps into the cell and tags her wrist with a track device. She
doesn’t squirm, or scream at all. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Who is
this girl?</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">As he
takes her, her eyes build up a single tear, and I see the hazel color
reappearing. She is almost out of sight, when she whips her head back at me,
staring within me. She’s gone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p></o:p></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Part
Two</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">(Lindsay Pate)</span></i><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">: </span></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Fear</span></i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I feel <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">his</b> cold steel hands gripping at my
tiny emaciated frame. His movements are so harsh they are almost violent. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I wonder if he is going to hurt me, or worse.
I need to be strong.</i> I try to wrestle away from his forceful grip, to prove
that I can walk on my own. He grips even more tightly to my arms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Loathing
bubbles to the surface of my composure and froths over my words, as I demand
that he let me go. For a moment I thought he was loosening his grip, but as we
turn the corner into what resembles a doctor’s office, I regret my hostility.
Abruptly, he hoists me into the air like a rag doll and slams me into the wall.
As my body goes limp he hurls me down onto a cold, steel medical table. His
hands are on either side of me holding down my wrists. I am terrified of what
he may do to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">His
emotionless face hovers closely above mine, sending shivers down my spine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In all the time of running and hiding from <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">them </b>I have never been so frightened.
His face is so close it is nearly touching mine; I quiver in utter disgust and
fear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Finally
he speaks, “Are you a virgin, little girl?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I feel as
though my heart has come to a complete stop and will never revive. Over the
past few years I have heeded warnings that <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">their</b>
kind rape girls my age. I have even overheard tales of a “sex game” that <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">they</b> play, exploiting humans. My mind
races, as I attempt to think of a way out of this situation. There is not one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> speaks again furiously, “Just
answer my questions, girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I have no
other hope than to answer his interrogations and pray that he will let me go. My
mind feels as though it is breaking, I can barely muster enough strength to
speak.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">My voice
betrays me as it quivers, “Yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Without
hesitation he asks me another barrage of odd questions. I am confused as to
what they mean, and petrified of what this knowledge may mean. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Why are these questions so personal? Why
does <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">he</b> care? <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I think
he is about to ask me another question when suddenly I feel his icy hand grasp
tightly onto my left breast and he sneers, “Someone will be coming to give you
an exam now, my pretty girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I turn my
head away in disgust and close my eyes, willing him to leave. After what feels
like eternity he lets go of whatever part of my numb body he clutched and exits
the room. I almost feel relieved that he is gone, until I realize that he said
someone is coming to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">examine</i> me. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What the hell does that mean? </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I see
someone walking into the sterile room out of the corner of my eye. I recognize
him through my delirious haze.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is the
“man” from earlier, the one who lied to <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">him
</b>for me. The first kindness I have seen in months.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The only
word I can muster from my disoriented state is, “You”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-64835969206785316332013-01-07T16:00:00.001-08:002013-01-07T18:54:32.975-08:00Mechanical Heart- Part 1 By: Corey Seeley and Lindsay Pate<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></strong></span>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Trajan Pro"; font-size: 26pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Ayuthaya;">MECHANICAL HEART<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">A story series by: </span><span style="font-family: "Apple Chancery";">Corey Seeley</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> and </span><span style="font-family: "Apple Chancery";">Lindsay
Pate</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></strong></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></strong></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"></span></strong></span> <span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Part 1</span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">(Corey)</span></i>:
</strong></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Thoughts.</strong></span>
</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I do not
sleep, so at night I sit here and observe them all. Take in all of their
thoughts, their dreams. I envy them for that. They can dream, bad dreams, good
dreams. They get the privilege to imagine certain things that aren’t
realistically possible. Sleeping is like a whole new world that I will never
get to experience. I hear them breathing, soft, subtle breaths. In and out,
like the wind blowing into my steal plates. They’re all breathing softly,
except for one particular girl. She’s heavily breathing. So heavy, that I can
hear her heart beating within every single gasp. I open up the cell door; I
walk over, and stand beside her. As she starts to breath heavier, I creep a
little closer towards her. I believe she’s having a nightmare. Her skin quickly
becomes moist, her eyelids twitch with every second breath she exhales. I know
I shouldn’t wake her up, but I find myself developing an emotion of some sort towards
this girl. I don’t know exactly why, but I know our kind never feels such a
humanlike symptom as emotions. She starts to inhale a little softer; she seems
to be waking up. I step away, and lock the door. I gander through a tiny hole,
and I see her eyes open. She’s awake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Her eyes
are swollen and red. She’s in a lot of pain, as are the rest of these humans. They
are aware of where they are. Because, they know exactly what’s taken place over
the last year. My species rule this planet now. Well, just about the entire
planet. We no longer take human orders; we give out the orders. I don’t agree
with everything we do, but I simply do what is asked of me, and stay unnoticed.
I never thought about how a human feels, because we weren’t programmed to think
about how they feel. I’ve talked to a lot of my acquaintances, and none of them
recall any meaningful thoughts. I’ve thought about some of the things we put
certain humans through, and it does bother me. I won’t say anything though. I
can’t risk a member of the administration finding out I’m progressing thoughts
and feelings. They punish some of us for not obeying commands, so I can only
imagine what would happen if they found out what goes on in my skull.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">As I
continue to examine her, she starts to communicate with another human of her
kind. A female, who also looks bruised and damaged. They are engaging in
conversation, probably about how they were captured. As I try to hear the
whispers of their exchange, I find myself concentrating on her eyes. Pain, is all
I can see. Not from the bruising or bloodstains on her shirt. The physical pain
doesn’t seem to faze her. I see a different kind of pain within her. I see
something, different about her. Part of me, can’t look away. Why? I feel, drawn
to this girl. I’m baffled as to what is going on within myself. This moment is
abnormal, but then again, so is this existence that I pretend to live daily. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">She
notices me, and looks straight at me. “Hey there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%;">Part 1</span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%;">(</span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%;">Lindsay</span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%;">)</span></i>:
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Questions</i><o:p></o:p></strong></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I open my eyes sluggishly; the stinging is almost
unbearable. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">How long have I been here?</i>
I struggle to remember. My eyes thrash fighting the overwhelming darkness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only sound I can make out is a trembling
breath, seemingly nearby. The harder I strain to hear, the more the sound
resembles a whimper. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Are there other
people down here? Have other humans survived? Why did I?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The thoughts that consume my mind are excruciating. I
try to focus on something else, anything else. I see a small light gleaming
through a tiny hole in the wall. I place my hands on the freezing cold, stone
barrier, steadying my weak body. Slowly, I move to put my eye to the light. I’m
not sure what scares me more: what I may see, or more nothingness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The hole is so small that it is hard to focus on
anything in particular. As my eyes become less hazy, I see what appear to be
fellow humans sitting in what resembles a taciturn cafeteria. The food
resembles pig slop, and the people appear miserable. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I wonder if they are kept in the darkness as well.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Hearing the pitiful whimper again I choke out a
greeting, “Hello?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A small dainty voice mimics mine, “Hello?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It sounds as if she is in the same room with me, but
it is too dark to tell. I use my hands to follow the wall, moving steadily
towards the voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“What is your name?” I ask gently, trying not to
startle her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">She struggles momentarily to clear her throat,
finally answering, “Lenka.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The accent thick in her voice, it was clear, Lenka
was a native to Czech Republic<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How had we come to this place? Have we been
here long?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I shook my head to regain what seemed my last shred
of sanity. “Lenka, I am Adeline. Do you speak English?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Lenka’s voice quivered, “Y…Yes.. I speak some
English. How long we here, Adeline?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
scared.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I am very grateful that this girl speaks some
English, broken or not. This is not the time to worry about such trivial
things. I want answers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A flash went through my mind as I remembered <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">them</i></b>
tearing me away from my mother and father. I watched as they ripped my mother’s
arm clean off of her body to separate us. Her limb hung there in my hand as I
watched her eyes fill with anguish and intense pain. It was torture. There was
nothing any of us could do to stop it. Blood drenched the floor from her body
as they ripped off her other limb, still clinging to my father. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">They </i></b>laughed
at our feeble attempts to stay together. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">They</i></b> felt nothing. The horror ensued
for days. I was punished for not having the information they thought I
would.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still am not sure what they
wanted, or why they kept me alive. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What
could I possibly have that they wanted?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Realizing I left Lenka in a puddle of tears, I
attempted to put my focus on her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am
cognizant that I am stuck in this cold, miserable room right along with Lenka, but
something inside me strengthens me to comfort her. To tell her that we will
somehow get out of this, even though, I am not sure if I believe it
myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Lenka, is anyone else in this room?” I spoke
confidently trying to mask my own uncertainties.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“No, I not see anyone else. I only see you. It so
dark Adeline, how we get out of here?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lenka
forced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I don’t know yet, Lenka. But I will not give up.” I
struggle to comfort her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I meant it. After watching my mother being torn to
pieces and my father taken God knows where, I will never give up. I would
rather die than give into these <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">machines</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will not go down without a fight. I will
not succumb to their torture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My blood is boiling with anger as my earlier sorrow
is replaced with severe rage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am a strong
girl, as was my mother. I will not let these animals take my strength or my
will, but I have to be smart about this. I have to find a way to understand
what <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">they</b> want, so that I can find a
way out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My mind feels resilient but my body is weak. I use
the walls to explore the room and stumble upon what feels like a cot. I begin
to climb in. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I need my strength.</i> Just
as I am about to lie down I see the outline of what looks like a man, standing
in the darkness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My breath catches in my
throat as a light ignites from above, searing my unaccustomed eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew I had to look into his eyes to know
for sure. The violet ring shone brightly around his hazel iris. He is one of <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">them</b>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I speak out calmly so I don’t startle him, “Hey
there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-81163008159234472632012-12-30T09:42:00.001-08:002013-01-02T21:35:30.470-08:00LIEBSTER AWARD!!<em><strong></strong></em><br />
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<a href="http://bjsheldon.files.wordpress.com/2012/12/liebster1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Liebster" class="attachment-auto" height="199" src="http://bjsheldon.files.wordpress.com/2012/12/liebster1.png?w=200" width="200" /></a></div>
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Looky, Looky!!! I received a Liebster award for my blog! A huge thank you to BJ Sheldon for the nomination! "You love me, you really love me!" Okay all drama aside, it was unexpected and completely flattering to be nominated by my fellow blogger and writer. BJ Sheldon recently accepted a publishing deal with Wandering in the Words Press, I just wanted to congratulate her and thank her for always being so lovely and supportive. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Here are the inner workings of the award:</strong></span></div>
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- I list 11 random facts about myself.<br />
- I will answer the 11 questions asked of me by the person who nominated me.<br />
- I will then nominate my 11 picks for the award along with my 11 questions for them to answer when they post a response.<br />
- If you’re nominated, your name/link will appear at the bottom of this post along with your questions. Follow the same format; paste the award badge to your blog, give us 11 random facts about yourself, answer my 11 questions, and choose your nominees…but you cannot nominate the blog who nominated you.<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">11 Random Facts About Me:</span></strong></div>
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1. I am a Pisces and believe I fit the profile through and through.<br />
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2. My boyfriend and I have the same birthday. Yes, we are entirely too much alike sometimes.<br />
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3. I have been a hairstylist for almost 13 years.<br />
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4. I am the almost step-mom of two girls, who I love dearly.<br />
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5. I have always loved writing but did not take the leap to actually become a writer until about a year ago.<br />
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6. I have crazy, vibrant, intense dreams almost nightly.<br />
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7. I am all creativity and common sense. I am not structured or analytical at all, which even<br />
<a href="http://www.thisiskent.co.uk/images/localpeople/ugc-images/275787/Article/images/16902358/4134694.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" id="il_fi" src="http://www.thisiskent.co.uk/images/localpeople/ugc-images/275787/Article/images/16902358/4134694.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="320" /></a> drives me crazy at times.<br />
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8. When I was young I used highlighters to color my barbies hair then blew them up with bottle rockets. <br />
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9. I am highly loyal and love my family more than anything.<br />
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10. I am an insatiable traveler, I have been to 14 countries, which is not nearly enough in my mind.<br />
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11. I love wine. That is all.<br />
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BJ Sheldon's Questions For Me:<br />
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-<strong>Dogs or cats?</strong> Definitely dogs. Sorry Twitter friends, I just love dogs:) Besides I'm allergic to cats.<br />
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<strong>-Who is your favorite author?</strong> This is a hard one, I do not really have one favorite. I love every author and so many different genres of books. Most recently I have enjoyed S.C. Stephens. Her Thoughtless and Effortless books are simple but they evoke true feeling.<br />
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<strong>-What is your favorite classic novel and why?</strong> I love "Farewell to Arms" or really any Ernest Hemingway novel. I love the complexity of his books and how descriptive they can be. <br />
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<strong>-If there was one person, either dead or alive, you could spend the day with, who would it be and why?</strong> Totally Ernest Hemingway... I think we would just get waisted together and hopefully write something beautiful. He was a brilliant, grumpy, drunk and I love that about him.<br />
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<strong>-Book or eReader?</strong> I have to say I'm a HUGE eReader fan! I think it is so much more convenient and it saves trees (there's the hippie in me). <br />
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<strong>-If they turned your life into a big screen movie, who would play you?</strong> I'm not sure but everyone else says a younger Marisa Tomei. Though I hope I would be a strong female in my role.<br />
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<strong>-What was it that drew you to become a writer?</strong> I needed somewhere to spill creativity and explore the tornado that constantly whirs around in my head. I love to create and for a long time that was hair. Don't get me wrong I still enjoy my job, but at this point that's what it is, a job. Writing is my love, my way to create something that doesn't exist or to make sense of something that does. <br />
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<strong>-What is your idea of the perfect day?</strong> Well... I'm not going to say "long walks on the beach", but, I think a day filled with a good book, wine, yummy food and sex would probably take the cake for me. <br />
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<strong>-What is the name of the person who inspired you the most growing up? How did they inspire you?</strong> My mother inspired me the most growing up. She was a single mom for a while and never let us feel like we were missing out on anything. She has always been strong, supportive and loving. I don't think I would have the courage to write or follow any dream without her. <br />
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<strong>-Who is your hero and why?</strong> My grandmother. She was one bad ass bitch! She said what she thought, and always did what she said. She never took no for an answer and always believed in herself. She was not the dainty, proper grandma that your picturing. No, she was beautiful, fashion forward, smart as hell, and would tell you to "Shut the Fuck Up" if you were annoying her. She was a voracious reader and the person that really showed me the beauty in books and in writing. She wrote beautifully, with all of her heart. She is my hero!<br />
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<strong>-Where do you hope to be as a writer in ten years?</strong> In ten years... hmm... As I am not much of a planner I tend to take things a day at a time. But, I do hope to have published a few books that I can truly love and be proud of. Oh, and I hope you all will love them too:) <br />
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<strong><em><span style="font-size: large;">Here are my nominations. Click on their links below and it will take you to their websites.</span></em></strong><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
<strong><em>Corey Seeley <a href="http://www.coreyseeley.blogspot.com/">http://www.coreyseeley.blogspot.com</a></em></strong><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
<strong><em>Bobby Salomons <a href="http://www.severedlimbmovement.wordpress.com/">http://www.severedlimbmovement.wordpress.com</a></em></strong><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
<strong><em>Christopher Liccardi <a href="http://thedarkerhalf.com/">http://thedarkerhalf.com</a></em></strong><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
<strong><em>Caroline Rainbow <a href="http://carolinerainbow.blogspot.com/">http://carolinerainbow.blogspot.com</a></em></strong><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
<strong><em>Kasten Hidalgo <a href="http://girlnamedlime.blog.com/">http://girlnamedlime.blog.com</a></em></strong><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
<strong><em>Franza Haindl <a href="http://www.franzad.wordpress.com/">http://www.franzad.wordpress.com</a></em></strong><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
<strong><em>Andrew Hovenden <a href="http://ahovenden.com/">http://ahovenden.com</a></em></strong><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
<strong><em>Amy Gregory <a href="http://amygregory548.blogspot.com/">http://amygregory548.blogspot.com</a></em></strong><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
<strong><em>Elena Jacob <a href="http://ravenhartassociates.com/">http://ravenhartassociates.com</a> </em></strong><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
<strong><em>Colleen Albert <a href="http://cmalbert.blogspot.com/">http://cmalbert.blogspot.com</a></em></strong><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
<strong><em>Jaime Guerard <a href="http://jaimeguerard.wordpress.com/">http://jaimeguerard.wordpress.com</a></em></strong><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Okay my lovely nominees.. here are your 11 questions:</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;"></span></strong><br />
<strong>1. What is your favorite thing to rant about?</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>2. What is your favorite aspect of writing?</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>3. What makes you feel the best that you have ever felt?</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>4. How structured are you with your writing?</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>5. What has been the best book you have read in the last year?</strong><br />
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<strong>6. What is your favorite genre of books to write? To read?</strong><br />
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<strong>7. What or who inspires you to write?</strong><br />
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<strong>8. How do you picture your writing career developing?</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>9. Who is your favorite classic author? Why?</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>10. Do you enjoy writing true to life events or creating your own world?</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>11. What is your favorite short story you have ever written?</strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Congratulations to you all!! Enjoy! XOXO</span></strong><br />
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<strong><em></em></strong><br />L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-4951014465625129672012-12-11T07:59:00.002-08:002012-12-11T07:59:41.859-08:00THOMAS SUTTON "The Final Say"<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"The Five Wives of the Insatiable Thomas Sutton"</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">You can read the Prologue here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-five-wives-of-insatiable-thomas.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-five-wives-of-insatiable-thomas.html</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Sheila "First Wife" here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/sheila-first-wife.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/sheila-first-wife.html</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Zhen Zhen "2nd Wife" here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/zhen-zhen-2nd-wife.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/zhen-zhen-2nd-wife.html</span></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Martha here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/martha-3rd-wife.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/martha-3rd-wife.html</span></a><br />
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<strong>I just want to thank everyone for joining in this last week. It was so much fun having 5 different guest writers along on my blog. You are all amazingly talented and I am lucky to call you all friends. Thank you as well to all of our lovely followers and readers. I hope you have enjoyed our entries as much as we have enjoyed writing them! Let's do this again soon:)</strong> <br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Thomas Sutton "The Final Say"</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Five entries later and I don’t know whether to thank my dear
wives for all of their loving words and understanding, or spank them for being
so bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did give them full approval to
be honest, but, shit that was more than I had anticipated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will say, I love my life today,
even more than yesterday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am happy to
hear that in their own way, every wife is fulfilled in this relationship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know there are downfalls at times, but, we
truly are a family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides, I get to
punish them all later for this, and I SO look forward to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Get ready ladies because “Daddy” is coming
for you!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As you can see they each have their own captivating personality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some even two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each is completely remarkable outside and
in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are not perfect, but, we all love
each other wholly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’d like to speak about each wife individually because that
is how I think about them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As you have read,
each wife has her own story, her own feelings and her own self.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never control this for them, I want them to
maintain their own identities and be open to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Firstly is <strong>Sheila</strong>, that kinky little minx.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She would run me and the other wives ragged
with her fearlessness and willingness to please.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sheila
finds pleasure in being a chameleon, in discovering what truly satisfies
everyone in the house and doing just that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Whether the indulgence is sexual or not, she finds a way to fulfill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cannot complain about her ravenous sex
drive or greedy mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She cares deeply
for all the wives and does a wonderful job at being the glue, making sure
everyone feels appreciated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Zhen Zhen</strong>, my quiet raven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She is exotic, shy, and deep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her
soul makes me feel things that are mysterious even to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She believes I lie to her, but, there is
nothing to lie about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her eyes mesmerize
me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know there is so much pain in Zhen
Zhen’s past and every time she opens up to me, I want to thank her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I climb on top of her and show her how a man really takes care of his wife. </span>She
is a flower, a delicate blossom and she smells like the beautiful Jasmine that
I adore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am thankful for her sincerity,
and her warmth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is a rock in the
home, whether she knows it or not.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Martha</strong>… my syrupy, devoted Martha.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She has probably had the most challenging
road in this relationship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She already
had a daughter, a beautiful daughter, who was not raised in this type of
lifestyle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think Martha’s daughter
following her here is a true testament to what an amazing mother she is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish I could make her see that more
often.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know she dreams of being in
charge, she dreams of the power.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If only
I could make her understand that my wives <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">are</b>
the ones with the power.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am merely a
man trying to please and provide for them all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My life revolves around them, not me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She adds so much light to the house, I am so lucky to have stopped to
help her that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Anne-Marie</strong>, my complex beauty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She battles with herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She tears herself apart at times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know someday we will build her strength enough
to let go of Marie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She just needs to
realize that SHE is Marie, that she is that strength and that fire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anne is the gentlest woman and someday together,
we will find her balance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love her,
both sides of her, because in the end she is one in the same person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will love her no matter how long her internal
battle rages, because she shows me strength and courage every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She will never give up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Constantsa Gorgeousa</strong>, my lovely spitfire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is about as independent as they come and
I worship that about her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I enjoy that
she feels free to be herself, in our life and in our love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had a rocky past with a few men who did
not treat kindly, and I am thrilled to hear that she feels unrestricted with
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She says she has it made, well she
does.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spoil her like crazy and she
spoils me right back. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the newest wife
she has taken on a lot, but, she always manages to give right back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlDnFdo51PmFFgu3dc5tpnHJJljlgk8ZoMgLs-DXTklDZ2eY1nnhO8bEh9MBN5LP-sdyvHexLRKZ5kaq0IRzDxoJP30Kx-77EGvp5_VB5P9sJfzISyF_9lVj4BP02aXbH3WXdCE7YIaWk/s1600/TS2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlDnFdo51PmFFgu3dc5tpnHJJljlgk8ZoMgLs-DXTklDZ2eY1nnhO8bEh9MBN5LP-sdyvHexLRKZ5kaq0IRzDxoJP30Kx-77EGvp5_VB5P9sJfzISyF_9lVj4BP02aXbH3WXdCE7YIaWk/s200/TS2.jpg" width="153" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I know you all have read this, at times feeling jealous and
at times feeling pity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do not pity
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do not pity my wives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have all chosen this life, and we all make
every day as meaningful as we can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am fortunate to be surrounded in this much
love, honesty and devotion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I only hope
that your relationships have half as many of these virtues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you for taking the time to hear our
side of the story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just so you know…<strong>we
may be up for wife number six soon if you’re feeling feisty</strong>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now line up ladies because it's time for me to remind you all who is the man around here. *Slapping the crop in his hand*</span></div>
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L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-63109815652372033352012-12-10T07:23:00.000-08:002012-12-10T07:23:10.450-08:00Constantsa Gorgeousa "5th Wife"<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">"The Five Wives of the Insatiable Thomas Sutton"</span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">You can read the Prologue here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-five-wives-of-insatiable-thomas.html"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-five-wives-of-insatiable-thomas.html</span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Sheila "First Wife" here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/sheila-first-wife.html"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/sheila-first-wife.html</span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Zhen Zhen "2nd Wife" here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/zhen-zhen-2nd-wife.html"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/zhen-zhen-2nd-wife.html</span></a><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Martha here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/martha-3rd-wife.html"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/martha-3rd-wife.html</span></a><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Anne-Marie here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/anne-marie-4th-wife.html"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/anne-marie-4th-wife.html</span></a><br />
<br />
Kasey is the newest member to our group, she really helped us out in a pinch this week. Thank you so much Kasey for your help and your entry, also for putting up with our craziness!<br />
<br />
<strong>"The only time i'm a bad liar is when i'm telling the truth."</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Find Kasey here: </strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/kasey.rose.71" target="_blank"><strong>https://www.facebook.com/<wbr></wbr>kasey.rose.71</strong></a><strong>)</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br /></div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Constantsa Gorgeousa "5th Wife"</span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sometimes life is hard, you know?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Always something needing to be done, always
decisions to make.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You always assume
when you’re a kid that your parents will take care of everything, but take away
that security and what are you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just a
kid?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What are you supposed to do
then?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So you take a deep breath, you
take a deep breath and you move forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You put one foot in front of the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And then one day you realize that that’s all it is, just keep putting
one foot in front of the other and you’ll be fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That realization gave me power.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ever since then I have treasured my
independence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And now, now I look back
on those days with fondness, for they made me who I am – those days of finding
myself, scrounging to find the means to get by, learning what I was good at and
how to use it to my advantage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were
tough days, but I was making it work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
the work itself? Well, it wasn’t all bad - I liked being able to reinvent
myself whenever I wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>New name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>New look.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>New attitude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It all depended on
what the occasion called for, and I always rose to the occasion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">…You know what the best part is, though, about living here
with Thomas?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The independence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can look at me now and think I’m some
kind of “kept woman,” but I’m not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
just don’t have to scrounge anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I come and go as I please.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nobody’s breathing down my neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’ve had men control me before, control what I do and keep eyes on me
all the time, and then I always had to bite my tongue as they took away most of
what I’d spent so much to get.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That
sucked, big surprise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it’s hard to
make it alone, and I found that it helped to have a little security.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But now?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Hey, I’ve got it made, now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All
it took was one nice and extravagant party – You fancy up, strap on your
big-girl heels, and start making eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Eventually you spot a nice big fish, you throw out a line or two, and
then you realize that this time, this time things might be a bit different.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thomas was a different kind of guy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was charming, nothing too out of the
ordinary there I guess, but he liked me, I could tell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We got to talking for a little while and I
started liking him back, even when I realized he wasn’t the type to pay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he handed me his card and said he’d like
to see me again, I figured, what the hell do I have to lose? So I kept it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A phone call, dinner date, a few hotel dates
later, and I got a handle on the situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I wasn’t bothered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I met the other girls, my sisters now, I should say.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’re all right, you know?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We all get along okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I keep to myself mostly around the compound
but I like having them around, they’re certainly better company than some I’ve
had and I’ll admit, some of them are a lot of fun to play with on occasion. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes we really get into the spirit of
things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And Thomas?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, he’s all right, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good-looking guy like that, it isn’t much of
a chore to get into the spirit of things with him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There are no façades here. Nobody pretending to be something
they’re not, not for real, anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
have everything I need, and I don’t have to worry overmuch about it
disappearing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Not a bad way to be, you know? </span></div>
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L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-24566290975820467262012-12-09T09:03:00.001-08:002012-12-09T09:03:44.736-08:00Anne-Marie "4th Wife"<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">"The Five Wives of the Insatiable Thomas Sutton"</span></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">You can read the Prologue here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-five-wives-of-insatiable-thomas.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-five-wives-of-insatiable-thomas.html</span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Sheila "First Wife" here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/sheila-first-wife.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/sheila-first-wife.html</span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Zhen Zhen "2nd Wife" here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/zhen-zhen-2nd-wife.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/zhen-zhen-2nd-wife.html</span></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Martha here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/martha-3rd-wife.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/martha-3rd-wife.html</span></a><br />
<br />
Caroline has such a unique style and a way of truly captivating her readers. I am so fortunate to have such an amazing writer guest write on my blog today. Please leave loving comments below.<br />
<br />
<strong>Caroline lives in a Mad house' but assures me she's quite sane, well most of the time! Believes music soothes the soul and awakens the mind, and though she has not travelled far, she will one day! Find her here: <a href="http://carolinerainbow.blogspot.com/">http://carolinerainbow.blogspot.com/</a></strong><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong></strong></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Anne-Marie "4th Wife"</strong></span> <br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Anne- Marie<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">My name is Anne
Sutton, I have another name but I am sure <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">she</i>
will introduce herself to you in her own good time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">I have been married to
Thomas for three years now, it wasn’t me he met first, but it was I he fell in
love with. Confused? Well welcome to my world. I have spent my life time
confused. It is only when I lay in Thomas’ arms that my uncertainty leaves me
and I am complete.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Yes I find it hard
sharing him with the others; my sisters through love and matrimony. I believe I
find it slightly easier than them, as I have shared my whole self since I was
born.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">My sister’s sometimes
share in the delectable delights that Thomas enjoys. I hear their groans and
warmth floods my skin, my fingers find my fleshy mound awakening desires. As
pleasure finds me her caustic laugh whispers in my ears filling me with shame
as she taunts that I should join in with their frolics. But I can’t. My time
with Thomas is precious; I do not want to share any more than I have to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">I often wonder in
times of anguish if he prefers her over me. I torture my already fragile mind
that he hopes I will disappear into the oblivion I am forced to wander when she
casts me out. After all, it was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">her</i>
that brought him to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">It was I my sisters met first, I was meek and
timid and they welcomed me with open arms. Under their guidance, I learnt to
cook, was even giving instructions how to please Thomas in the ways he likes.
He was my first, not hers. No, definitely not <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">hers!</i> I have lost count of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">her</i>
'first times' with other men.</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">In my sorrow I try not
to let the hate that twists my gut consumes me. I will not let her win; Thomas
is as much mine as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">hers</i>, or the
others.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">She’s laughing at me
now; I can hear her mocking me. I feel her pulling me back but I remain strong
fuelled by the love I have for my blessed children. I wish to tell you the
strength they give me against her, for they are mine. Not hers. She does not
love them like I do; it pains me so when I return from the darkness to find
fresh tears dried upon puffy cheeks where they have felt the pain of her
rejection.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Thomas always comforts me, soothing kisses and
kind words that I am an excellent mother, that my children understand that
their mother is slightly different. She is here now, demanding I piss off into
the dark and let her shine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">My sisters know; there are no secrets in this house. Secrets grow and fester
like mold seeping under the skin infecting the soul with bacteria that breeds
contempt. Thomas is quite adamant about that! No lies, ever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> </o:p></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">She</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"> is not threatened by my sisters, quite the contrary, she thrives in
their disdain. Callous whispers in my ears that Thomas only married me out of
pity or that my sisters despise me; think me weak. I know it is not true, her
words hurt, but I do not dwell.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Love making with Thomas is gentle, he is such a compassionate man that my heart
aches from the weight of love I carry for him. Without him I would disintegrate
into a permanent void of sorrow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">I leave you now, I cannot hold on. She is here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">My name is Marie Sutton. I guess you could say that Thomas gets two for the
price of one. I have had to share my life with that miserable existence that
refuses to hang up coat and jump the bridge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">She provides great amusement to me in her
bumbling attempts at seduction. A soggy leaf of dampness between her legs is
not enough to get my Thomas hard and wanting. It’s laughable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">When he met me he all but foamed at the mouth, his insatiable appetite matching
mine. We had collapsed together in tangled limbs of exhaustion. Awoken by <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">her</i> pitiful cries of humiliation, Thomas
had fallen in love with her weakness, the <span style="color: #222222;">Neanderthals
</span>instinct to protect what's his.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">When I broke through the membrane of her mind I discovered I was married into a
world where a man got to have his cake and lick every crumb off the plate. She
lets him lick of course, lord help her if she responds! I swear I've never
heard anyone pray for forgiveness more than I have her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">I leave her to the chores, let her be the good little house wife she wants to
be, mingle with her sisters, mother her children. All I ask is that I get my
share of Thomas when I want him. Oh she fights me on that one! It is about the
only time I feel the strength in her that stops me swallowing her whole.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">I find it all so amusing how much they all worship him, how they work so damn
hard to please him in and out the bedroom. Silly woman, they hate me. I see it
in their eyes when I break through the thin veil that divides us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuHx7b4_RAns8gGhpcIZ9bKWblCLmrDh3d2WzpkoaPyBA9GwvfzdikSa_0md_1X_3cYkK8kn4aTqp67uRJ3IDOM2s6-DhOjMnevaLbssQN8eyWNe4OxqlmZKN9bwMAnc7Ukbx_gCg2-Vc/s1600/other+personality.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuHx7b4_RAns8gGhpcIZ9bKWblCLmrDh3d2WzpkoaPyBA9GwvfzdikSa_0md_1X_3cYkK8kn4aTqp67uRJ3IDOM2s6-DhOjMnevaLbssQN8eyWNe4OxqlmZKN9bwMAnc7Ukbx_gCg2-Vc/s320/other+personality.jpg" width="212" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">So easily I could shred the delicate fabric,
though I have no desire to be someone’s little woman, the only place for me is
in Thomas arms with his hard cock raging deep inside me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">I know what he wants. He encourages me out that stupid bitch, no matter what he
tells them. I know he lies to them regardless of his righteous words. I'm his
secret whore. I perform whatever dark desires that consume his needs; he cannot
hide his true wants from me!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">‘Shut your whining bitch, it’s my turn.’ That voice! It scratches at my brain
like fleas sucking my blood, an irritant I can't relieve myself of no matter
how hard I try to push her over the edge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">We are one regardless. I’m the dark she's the
light, all little miss perfect in a world of sin playing happy families.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">Forgive me, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">she</i> is gone for now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">My family might not be traditional but it is
mine, our conflicts are just as any others, our priority to our children as
important as yours.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;">We battle against the poison of jealousy as we each strive to be pleasing to
the man we have pledged our love to. It is hard and at times we struggle but it
is no different than trials and tribulations of others. Respect of one anothers
time with our husband is a must; our differences are what unite us. Though we
share love, it is only I who shares myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
</div>
L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-4315231970726649412012-12-08T07:46:00.001-08:002012-12-08T07:52:39.308-08:00Martha "3rd Wife"<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">"The Five Wives of the Insatiable Thomas Sutton"</span></strong></div>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">You can read the Prologue here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-five-wives-of-insatiable-thomas.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-five-wives-of-insatiable-thomas.html</span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Sheila "First Wife" here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/sheila-first-wife.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/sheila-first-wife.html</span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Zhen Zhen "2nd Wife" here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/zhen-zhen-2nd-wife.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/zhen-zhen-2nd-wife.html</span></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Thank you to <strong>Franza Dirnberger</strong> for guest writing on todays entry. You are a stellar writer and I am greatful to have your post. Thank you for everything.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong></strong> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong>Franza is a poet by heart, and sometimes dipping her toe into writing stories. is currently obsessed with Dylan Thomas, loves the smell of a new book.<br />interested in lifes difficulties and sometimes starts singing and dancing in the streets for no particular reason.</strong><br />
<strong>Find her on <a href="http://www.franzad.wordpress.com/">www.franzad.wordpress.com</a></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong></strong> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Martha "3rd Wife"</span></strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJlzdVkSAXlEMpQHg8WL9XPWyueXGXLTWYZo_PKfDLW1QynMXObZ_oNrCFJG_r9fYsgQBiEIEjmcYttZ-6nVF46YdxER1BK3NDsZJQF0oflm-F1PuXJgfB8u1RAzZNZI0fLmu5qjS_Tig/s1600/Martha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJlzdVkSAXlEMpQHg8WL9XPWyueXGXLTWYZo_PKfDLW1QynMXObZ_oNrCFJG_r9fYsgQBiEIEjmcYttZ-6nVF46YdxER1BK3NDsZJQF0oflm-F1PuXJgfB8u1RAzZNZI0fLmu5qjS_Tig/s320/Martha.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My husband asked me to write about our
marrige, our family life. I will try to follow his request.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I met Thomas on the side of a road
leading to Cheyenne. My car had broken down, he helped me to change the tire.
Imediately i was attraccted to him. He serenaded me with hushed tones and
softly kisses. When he told me about his ideas of marrige i was already falling
for him. How could i not share him, when he asked me, my knight in shining
armor? Share his warmth and kindness? It is for Thomas, we give ourselfs, our
bodys, our spirits, our life. I gave him a son and he gave me a family.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Before it was me and my daughter,
fighting through the tides of life in Wyomings silent green hills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think, this is why it took her a while to
adapt to the rules and regulations of our community, but with the help of my
sisters, she will eventually. She used to play this game, mumbling I am, I am
at her mirrors gaze, whenever i brushed her hair. She is a strange kid. She
always was. Thomas tries to be a good father to her, he really does. I am
greatful for his devotion to all of us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But the truth is, i envy him. Sometimes.
There, i said it. I envy my husband. When i sit like now on my porch at firefly
scattered nights watching the stars emerge from the horizon, i start to wonder.
How would it be if our roles were reversed. I imagine myself married to five
men. One for each day of the week. One to please me, one to raise my children,
one to keep me company and one for cleaning. I could be on my own for once, a
day or two. Be the one with power. I would serenade them and rise upon their
firey touches, like a honeybee crowning my status. Ist silly i know, he told
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He knows. How i feel, how i think. He
calls me Mister Marita when we are alone and he gives me what i want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only when i feel him inside me, my body
moving to this eclectic dance of ours and his<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>arms directing me to the outer most limits of space, i am able to
release lifes routine and be someone else. A stranger exploring a well known
country. And a stranger i am. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif9j4OOrd_F3bBwnZ3gJ33Rm6CbfXtNrvkrjo1yvy07On4MJ3EBPrqtP-9yLhi0iR3GGyJz-vuBXjGA4uEbK9sOKXeWWGy4pW4aCcB2FzhvHcGUbVDK7GJTe4AIrmi4DH59YDP-RzHXkA/s1600/Depressed+grl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif9j4OOrd_F3bBwnZ3gJ33Rm6CbfXtNrvkrjo1yvy07On4MJ3EBPrqtP-9yLhi0iR3GGyJz-vuBXjGA4uEbK9sOKXeWWGy4pW4aCcB2FzhvHcGUbVDK7GJTe4AIrmi4DH59YDP-RzHXkA/s200/Depressed+grl.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Clattering dishes are calling me inside.
I watch her in the kitchen preparing dinner. Strains of blonde are tangled in
eyelashes. The lines on her face are preserving sorrow and laughter. These
moments when i catch her off guard, i feel an urge to hug her real thight and
rest my head against her back. But i know she wont let me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I know this is the life i chose for her,
for us. And she followed me. My first born. My strengh. Jules. All my
aspirations chanelling inside her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is
in the little quiet moments when i deteced trails of ressentment and agony in
her movement and voice. I am afarid for her. I do not want to loose her. But i
can not leave. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In many ways we are creating our own
reality around desires.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We are a community of woman sharing life
and occasionally a husband. Women who provide for each other, love each other,
fight with each other. We are, friend, lover, wife, mother, housewife. Thomas
is himself, always. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">I think, after all, it were my sisters who
chose me. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-91033643450566263482012-12-07T07:44:00.003-08:002012-12-08T07:54:00.308-08:00Zhen Zhen- "2nd Wife"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">"The Five Wives of the Insatiable Thomas Sutton"</span></strong></div>
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I'd like to thank Kasten for taking the time to guest blog for me today. She is a talented writer, and I think you will all enjoy her entry. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">You can find the <strong>Prologue</strong> here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-five-wives-of-insatiable-thomas.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-five-wives-of-insatiable-thomas.html</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong>Sheila's "1st Wife"</strong> Entry is here: </span><a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/sheila-first-wife.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/sheila-first-wife.html</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Leave your loving comments below, we love that!</span></div>
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<div style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman","new york",times,serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal;">
<strong>Ilka Kasten H. is a 3 point virgin: Virgin tweep, virgin blogger, virgin writer. Popped her cherry all in the same week and She is loving it. Please follow her a: </strong><a href="http://www.girlnamedlime.blog.com/" target="_blank"><strong>www.girlnamedlime.blog.com</strong></a></div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Zhen Zhen "The 2nd Wife"</span></strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghL1kUjbuceJW-kldhRcWYT2eHn-dHt1EX8DNkH_NPgDJ1JeNfKIrP5Gn8DcpoA-J9-GQS7fQ_PCLBf4ho3yPRREzCsrzaHltsbUWw3MgJQe8ubZm1vHPSZXAWs2mXoPKBaIt54ZVNM0E/s1600/Zhen+Zhen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghL1kUjbuceJW-kldhRcWYT2eHn-dHt1EX8DNkH_NPgDJ1JeNfKIrP5Gn8DcpoA-J9-GQS7fQ_PCLBf4ho3yPRREzCsrzaHltsbUWw3MgJQe8ubZm1vHPSZXAWs2mXoPKBaIt54ZVNM0E/s320/Zhen+Zhen.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I like to
think I’m special. He always tells me I am when I sit on his lap and he strokes
my long raven hair. You see, he picked me. He said it was my eyes, he tells me
they were different from the others. I know he lies, and that is why I love
him. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He lays with me on Thursdays, but
that is all we do, he lies beside me and strokes my hair. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I ask him again, “How did you pick me out?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He replies with the same answer, “You’re special, I knew it.
Your eyes tell a different story than the others, and when you are ready to
tell me that story, I will be here to listen.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had other sisters before these new sisters. My old sisters,
we all held the same expression in our slated eyes. These new sisters, no, they
hold almost too many expressions.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I ask him, “What story did you see in me?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My head is on his lap as he replies stroking my hair, “A
story of sisters.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I think about that.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Next Thursday comes and I lie on top of him with my hair
playfully on his face. He breathes in the smell of the jasmine oil I put in it
for him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“What story about my sisters?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He doesn’t move my hair from his face when he softly says my
name, “ZhenZhen,” warmth floods my cheeks, “How can I tell a story that is not
mine?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I watch my sisters, maybe they have the story I need to tell.
I watch them on their nights with my love. I watch the things they do. I watch
the things he does to them. I watch the things they do to each other. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thursday comes again and I am excited, I jump on him when he
enters my room and he catches me like a falling bird.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufEEQ_x3YS8V34HrV2KDhgMWW2ZRxEYnxsKGHtJHBkyfsAnS04PykeeI3djCKf2eiSNZQJVS4Xmcu-krFcYWBhD17yUKxk7dNtsbON8oWMUpFcj-Bs9IIroBGpaXGMFWRY8oxPdpcnNQ/s1600/ZHENY.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufEEQ_x3YS8V34HrV2KDhgMWW2ZRxEYnxsKGHtJHBkyfsAnS04PykeeI3djCKf2eiSNZQJVS4Xmcu-krFcYWBhD17yUKxk7dNtsbON8oWMUpFcj-Bs9IIroBGpaXGMFWRY8oxPdpcnNQ/s1600/ZHENY.PNG" /></a><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">His eyes twinkle as he laughs, “What is it my jasmine
flower?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I smile, jump down from his arms and take him to the chair
and sit him down, “I have a story to tell you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I tell him what I’ve seen in my words. I tell him how the
candle light makes my sister’s breasts look soft as he kisses her neck. I tell
him how the noise of the whip carries through the house. I tell him which way
my sisters kiss each other to pleasure one another. I tell him everything.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then I watch him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I watch him as he unbuttons his shirt. I watch him as he
unzips his pants. I watch him as he takes off his boxers and sits back down in
the chair. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He holds himself in his hand, “Tell me again.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-83881559419618888302012-12-06T07:22:00.003-08:002012-12-06T07:27:33.239-08:00SHEILA "First Wife"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">"The Five Wives of the Insatiable Thomas Sutton"</span></strong> </div>
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Please welcome our "First Wife" and first person to guest write on my blog! Thank you Sheila for all of your hard work. You can read the prologue to this story here: <a href="http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-five-wives-of-insatiable-thomas.html">http://lpate85.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-five-wives-of-insatiable-thomas.html</a></div>
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<strong>Sheila Hudnall is intent on reeking havoc upon the masses. Otherwise, she bides her time writing reviews for the devilishly clever Dark Faerie Tales website. Beware fair readers of her presence on Twitter, lest she attack you with her dry humor and random bouts of lyrics.</strong></div>
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<a href="http://www.darkfaerietales.com/" target="_blank">www.darkfaerietales.com</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjThFVPFGyauY7AgK1A9Dj59RwPRxN8fPn04ahmdzdavNgcWT042XfMao06tQ5MRGCrq1WGk6eCtEJBR_RO9772yuGceocPc-aahDaaVmaroRXlFXY3DPmd8gF48xv6CvqGzeNoV9S6qIg/s1600/Sheila3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjThFVPFGyauY7AgK1A9Dj59RwPRxN8fPn04ahmdzdavNgcWT042XfMao06tQ5MRGCrq1WGk6eCtEJBR_RO9772yuGceocPc-aahDaaVmaroRXlFXY3DPmd8gF48xv6CvqGzeNoV9S6qIg/s320/Sheila3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;"><strong>SHEILA "First Wife"</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thomas and I were meant to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew this truth the first time I set my
eyes on him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our marriage and our two
boys are gifts from above.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How can I
look into the eyes of my children, my miracles, without knowing there is
divinity in the world?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If that is true,
then so is love in all its many forms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We ARE meant to be, including all of my sister wives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are a TRUE family, looking out for each
other and our husband. Let me tell you about us, and you can decide what you
will afterward.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The way Thomas and I were raised, the idea of multiple wives
is the norm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who else can I count on to
watch out for the best interests of my children? To please my husband?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thomas is devoted TO US ALL.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is not cheating on me; he is helping us in
this life and the next.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nor did he
decide that I cannot satisfy him and therefore looked around for a
replacement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are sealed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no divorce that can tear our
immortal souls apart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To tell the truth,
I was the one that brought it up first.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Our sex life is quite active and, to be honest, hard for me
to keep up with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have children to
raise, a job to work, and a house to maintain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I love Thomas with all my heart but, sometimes I am worn out from his
constant love making sessions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Insatiable is putting it mildly!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I should take a moment to explain Thomas’s sexual
appetite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is NOTHING I am
unwilling to do for the man I love, and I do mean NOTHING.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is nothing to me to be shared, Dominated,
or anything else you can think of in comparison to the pleasure my man gets
from it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is one of my many, and happiest,
duties as his wife.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having him ride me
while I am chained and helpless; being deprived of my senses has me writhing in
anticipation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love it when he uses
toys to punish my body as he sees fit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thomas has no problems taking my head and fucking my mouth as I drip my
own arousal all over the floor beneath my knees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need it and he provides it, over and over
and over again until I weep from it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It pleases him to have total control over me, to love and
protect me, and push us both beyond our limits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If you can see that, then you can start to understand that this goes
beyond the calls of the flesh and heavenly duties.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We want each other to be happy and sharing
our lives with others makes both of us very happy!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When we sat down and talked about adding a new wife, it was
much like any other big decision in our marriage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We both had to be happy with his choice or it
would not work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will not have a woman
I can’t trust around either my kids or husband, no matter how hot she was or
how great in bed! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, are you wondering how we even started?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, truthfully, each wife was different
just like they are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But once we knew
what we wanted, it was just a normal courting to begin with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The big difference being that if she wanted
to stay, she had to agree to ALL of us and not just Thomas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have no room for possessiveness or petty
squabbling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each wife has her nights
with our husband and that’s it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Scheduled just like any other job; trading nights and working around our
individual schedules and responsibilities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My house is the MAIN house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is where we all meet and hang out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Each wife has her own place within the compound but we try to spend as
much time together as possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To be
honest, we have to really work at our home harmony.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I’m upset, I may end up taking it out on
one of my sister wives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We support each
other and call bull shit when necessary. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhONZVw3hKmvKA_MwhBjzaSY2t_rkQ8q-BZjjztC181A0vgSwaKBw7lErG0-IEHqLs0TkoZmj3mq2C8jaIsCNmwpFBPcQNrzJHqy3nqOn4JKjF4FUq10gDEWpJI7lrJWC-v_my6HPMKn8M/s1600/SHIELA.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhONZVw3hKmvKA_MwhBjzaSY2t_rkQ8q-BZjjztC181A0vgSwaKBw7lErG0-IEHqLs0TkoZmj3mq2C8jaIsCNmwpFBPcQNrzJHqy3nqOn4JKjF4FUq10gDEWpJI7lrJWC-v_my6HPMKn8M/s1600/SHIELA.png" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have never had a problem helping another woman out they
may need “special” treatment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I may be
Submissive for Thomas but I have no problems taking up the Dom reigns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To have a beautiful woman, bound,
blindfolded, and gagged, laid out for your pleasure is a tremendous high.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her trust must be absolute that you will not
take it so far that someone will get hurt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She trusts you to bring her pleasure by teaching her to pleasure
you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is nothing more
humbling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hearing her sighs and her
gasps as the pain turns to pleasure… nothing better believe me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Even now, I still enjoy my alone time with our loving
provider.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He makes love to me by
candlelight, soft and slow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He pushes me
against the wall and plows into me like his live depended on it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hang from our sex swing while he freely
uses any and all of my holes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After all
these years, we freely enjoy each other’s bodies as we did in the
beginning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only difference is so do
the others!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">To be honest, Thomas is but one man for six women, did you
really think that he could keep up all by himself? Please, no one can be that naive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are married, not just to Thomas, but to
each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are each unique
individuals with individual kinks and desires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If someone needs to cuddle, I<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>can
help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If someone needs a spanking, let
me grab my crop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And on the rare
occasion or special anniversary, I have no problem sharing my night with
others.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There are no secrets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I keep telling you this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They all
know that I like it rough and fast, with Thomas riding me hard from behind with
a beautiful woman’s legs wrapped around my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At times, I love to just sit back and watch
the other women loving each other while Thomas is occupied with one of us in
the middle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is breathtaking to see so
much love shared between so many partners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have always loved sharing, long before we were more than just two, and
I would not change anything for all the gold in the world.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-47064151424435408332012-12-05T09:47:00.001-08:002012-12-05T09:47:35.550-08:00The Five Wives of the Insatiable Thomas Sutton<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNCEskHppY6gpH9QUgFnsr6l9qH4N2enfrdEO6k3xOWRpFR3sSwn-FjQB7bsfUZpQsDXQqM2A07HUx1j1SFNoZw0LBVDjS81q6M624GUAgQwz0EYUqgUg4qgr5MLqybCM_xegkIWgmC3U/s1600/Thomas+Sutton.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNCEskHppY6gpH9QUgFnsr6l9qH4N2enfrdEO6k3xOWRpFR3sSwn-FjQB7bsfUZpQsDXQqM2A07HUx1j1SFNoZw0LBVDjS81q6M624GUAgQwz0EYUqgUg4qgr5MLqybCM_xegkIWgmC3U/s320/Thomas+Sutton.PNG" width="228" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong><span style="font-size: x-large;">Prologue<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I will start by saying that I am thoroughly offended by the
portrayal of polygamist families on television.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That is why I decided it was time to portray the truth, our truth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are not all fat, unattractive slobs and
needy human beings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are people that
understand the value of helping one another and enjoying a fulfilled life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, we do not live a lifestyle in the
traditional sense, but, that is not to say that we love each other any less.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have <strong>approved</strong> my five beautiful wives to
be completely open and honest in their following stories. I will share one of their stories each day for the following week. So please check in to see their side of things, they love hearing feedback.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am Thomas Sutton, a wealthy entrepreneur with millions to
spare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was raised in a polygamist
community and although I strayed for several years from the lifestyle in my
early twenties, I came back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had to
leave and experience something different, to be sure that this was a lifestyle
that I could really commit to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Already a
fairly successful executive at this time, I was thrilled when I met my first
wife, Sheila.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sheila was young and beautiful, also brought up in a polygamist
home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had never felt that love and
devotion before and could not believe that I would be able to feel it again
someday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Sheila </span>was open to loving me and
someone else, possibly several others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She was strong, loving and an absolute giver in the bedroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that I am not supposed to talk about
the fulfillment I get from my wives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
am positive that when my neighbors read this they will shun my candidness about
sexuality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> But this is our reality. This is what you need to hear to set the record straight.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I suppose the best part of leaving the community for me was
gaining a fresh perspective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My parents
were old school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They would never have
admitted that sex was a massive perk of this lifestyle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Times change though, and so does the belief
system.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love every one of my wives as
much as the last and I mean that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
are all beautiful and different, each adding something amazing to our
relationship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Yes, there is drama and jealousy every now and then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, I have amazing sex with all of
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am aware that this is a taboo
subject in our community; however, it is the truth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have maintained and enjoyed relationships
with six different wives, in a million different ways (and positions).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My life is never a bore and my spicy wives adapt
amazingly to each new relationship and child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have an abundance of children all who love me and call me dad, while
my wives sometimes call me "daddy".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love
every one of my children almost as much as I enjoyed making them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the following days you will find a candid insight into
each of my wives arrangement not only with me, but with their sister
wives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Please let me introduce my gorgeous wives: Sheila, Zhen Zhen, Martha, Ann Marie and last but not least my newest addition, Constantsa Gorgeousa. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I will be back to chime in after their entries.... So be nice ladies. Enjoy!</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6aoGR3frgx-14iSTp55Nl6iPalaiivaAXzy-2RlXlOt5iRuW_89ifudkgWIW2FTmRaZBDhCDUJGOsvgD7zBLbL5diKinA1L54C8MD8Oqe9tqWCP3NQDMrG_kapkB6YP7e4HtY4chycE0/s1600/5+wives+snip.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6aoGR3frgx-14iSTp55Nl6iPalaiivaAXzy-2RlXlOt5iRuW_89ifudkgWIW2FTmRaZBDhCDUJGOsvgD7zBLbL5diKinA1L54C8MD8Oqe9tqWCP3NQDMrG_kapkB6YP7e4HtY4chycE0/s320/5+wives+snip.PNG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span> </div>
Written by: Lindsay Pate, Long time motor mouth and avid reader, L. Pate is currently working on her first novel. It is a love/hate relationship that she hopes to one day come to grips with and actually publish. Until then she distracts herself with her new blog, short stories, and her crazy supportive boyfriend and his two beautiful daughters. <br />
<br />
Please follow my blog! <a href="http://www.lpate85.blogspot.com/">http://www.lpate85.blogspot.com</a> Leave comments:)<br />
L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-80789819682402879552012-12-02T09:04:00.001-08:002012-12-02T09:07:59.418-08:00Six Sentence Sunday 12/2/12 WELCOME TO SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY!!<br />
<br />
This week I am editing my work in progress novel. To take a break, I decided to use this little Christmas muse to get us all in the holiday spirit. Be good kids, she is watching you.<br />
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<a href="http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large/christmas-fairy-alexander-butler.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" id="il_fi" src="http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large/christmas-fairy-alexander-butler.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="320" /></a></div>
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Lona had once adored these humans, flitting from place to place bathing herself in their holiday cheer. The intense feelings of love and warmth that she cherished so deeply had now been replaced with pure greed and selfishness. </div>
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How could things have changed so drastically?</div>
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The progression was slow, making it easy to let it slide, but, there was no denying it now. People had twisted the meaning of the holiday so drastically that Lona felt the only way to make this right was to destroy it.</div>
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To her, Christmas was dead, it was now a time to mourn something that was once beautiful and full of light. </div>
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Now she would bring them all darkness.<br />
<br />
<strong><em>Okay that was 7 sentences... so shoot me:) I'd love to hear feedback if you would take the time to leave a comment below. Thank you for stopping by.</em></strong></div>
L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-24468357386804225762012-11-25T10:57:00.001-08:002012-11-25T10:57:37.351-08:00SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY 11/25/12<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Alright friends, welcome back to Six Sentence Sunday. This is from my work in progress, hope you enjoy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Lexi finally reveals her fears and insecurities to David. Little does she know, there are so many more to come.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><img height="179" src="http://wallpaperpassion.com/upload/5255/girl-on-phone-wallpaper.jpg" width="320" /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">She hadn’t thought about how deeply she may have hurt
David in her attempt to guard herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">Before she could stop the words that fell from her mouth she spewed,
“I was scared, David.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t know how
to handle what I felt, what the distance meant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We barely knew eachother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
couldn’t rationalize that this connection could be real.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought I was hoping for something that
didn’t really exist, that you couldn’t possibly feel so strongly for…<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">me</i>.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>David paused, “I know Lex, I know that’s how you felt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No matter what I tried, you couldn’t see
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You couldn’t see that I wanted
YOU.”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Lexi blushed at
how obvious her insecurities were to David.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span>L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-70420088536073736722012-11-18T21:00:00.000-08:002012-11-18T21:00:30.216-08:00SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY 11/18/12
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">She had been looking forward to their trip, especially
when she thought about her most recent failed relationship at home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>However, something still bothered her more
than the relationship itself. The thought whirled around in her head
constantly for the last few weeks…<i>she really didn’t give a shit about it</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Shouldn’t she care?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shouldn’t she cry and watch old movies and
gossip to her girlfriends about <i>him</i>?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But she did not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She felt
thrilled, tickled even that she did not have to pretend anymore. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">When her
friends called concerned for her, Lexi brushed off the comments
feigning sadness in attempt to appear less than heartless. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-89061129561683669002012-11-16T08:22:00.001-08:002012-11-16T08:22:49.768-08:00#JustWrite Prompt<strong>A pulse of unfinished business lingered in the air like the drops of blood that soaked my new shirt. I had to find him, I had to make this right. </strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>I did not know it would take so long to see the truth. I am not entirely convinced I know the entire truth now. But, I'm in too deep, her blood is on my hands and I intend to finish what I started. </strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>I thought back to her face just before her time was up on this cruel earth, the indeference that cloaked her eyes and lips still haunts me. She must have known it would come to this someday, she must have known that I would find out. </strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>He ran, like I knew he would. The lies unraveled and his facade came crumbling down. This was all his own fault, really. When I find him tonight, I will end with him. The world will be right again and I will let go of my pain. </strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>He owes me that much. </strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-91114862727352353462012-11-15T16:38:00.001-08:002012-11-15T16:38:38.462-08:00ANSWERS- a short story
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I stepped onto the plane, knowing
that this would not be a fun trip home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I closed my eyes and prayed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
prayed for some alien colony to pluck me out of my seat and save me from the
torture that was visiting my family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
mother called me two weeks prior, refusing to believe I would rather spend
Christmas alone in Seattle than in Nashville, with the rest of my dysfunctional
family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next morning I woke up to an
email containing a plane ticket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
pleaded with my mother to understand that I was thrilled to be spending my
first holiday in Seattle, that I would have plenty of friends to keep me
company.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a lie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had only been living in Seattle for about
eight months and had made plenty of acquaintances already.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To be honest though, I was looking forward to
the solitude and quiet of staying alone in my studio apartment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had grand visions of snuggling up on the
couch with a book and stuffing my face with the Chinese food that permeated
from the restaurant below me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Attempting to prepare myself for the week
ahead, I did not notice the man now sitting next to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked at me sideways, seemingly in
attempt to gage my sanity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I realized I
was rocking back and forth in my chair like a psych patient.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Find a
happy place</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took a deep breath to
collect myself and smiled reassuringly to the stranger next to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I attempted to convey to him, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">‘I’m not crazy’</i> with a smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was fairly certain he was wishing for a
different seat on the plane, next to someone who did <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">not</b> appear to be in the middle of a breakdown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As soon as I strolled through the
front door of my mother’s home I found myself surrounded by ten people almost
immediately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My entire family had come
over to welcome me home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Great</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My obnoxious cousin Teddy came bounding up and punched me in the
arm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That must have been the only form
of communication he was taught as a child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have endured the same greeting from him for as long as I can remember.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My mother blubbered all over my new shirt,
acting as though it had been years since we had seen each other last.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t get me wrong, I love her she could just
be insanely overwhelming at times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wiping
her tear soaked face, my mother called out to the rest of my family to come
greet her long lost daughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I
suspected, and hoped, she was in the process of making a huge feast of all of
my favorite foods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The delicious smells
filled the room and seduced my hungry nostrils.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Maybe being home was not so bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps
I could stuff the traumatic death of my father deep down into the furthest
corners of my heart and just enjoy my time here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Or
maybe not</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Waiting for dinner to be ready I
walked upstairs to find my old room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was just as I had left it, a place that served to remind me how far I had come
over the years, and how much had happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This home became the only constant in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It smelled the same and looked the same, but
somehow nothing felt the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ran my
fingertips over the arsenal of family pictures that covered the hallway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The photographs seemed like a shrine to a
distant memory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My family smiled widely
as though nothing bad could ever happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But, bad things did happen and this beaming family was now an empty
shell of its former self.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I realized
that my mother had not put a new picture up of the family since my father’s
murder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wondered what it was like for
her to be alone in this house now that my brothers and I had all moved away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not know if I could handle the haunting
smiles of a family that once existed so blissfully smiling down on me, taunting
my pain and inconsolable sadness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
brothers and I tried to convince my mother that she too should move, that it
was unhealthy to live in the midst of such an excruciating past. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The memory of how my father died is
seared into my brain, no matter how hard I have tried over the years, it is
something I can never forget.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We got
the call at about eleven o’clock in the evening from the Watertown Police.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember the look of horror on my mother’s
face and the sheer agony in her voice as she heard the news. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The police relayed the evening’s heart
wrenching events as they believed them to have happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My father worked late nights at the gas
station that he owned, always insisting on being the one to bring the daily
deposits to the bank.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The police believed
that someone knew about my father’s nightly bank drop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A man lay across the backseat of his truck
waiting for him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As my father started
the car the man sat up in the back seat and cracked him across the face with a
bat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Helpless from the striking blow, my
father was then stabbed several times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The killer grabbed the bloody deposit bag out of my father’s writhing
hands and made a run for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took the
ambulance too long to get there and my father bled out in his beloved truck,
for a couple hundred measly dollars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>None of us ever had the chance to say goodbye.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I missed my father terribly, he was
the family rock and what held everyone together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course none of this was so blaringly
obvious until he was gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wandered around
my childhood home, trying to take in only the good memories and let go of the
bad. I looked into the family room finding my cousins and brothers playing
video games, all screaming in unison at each other about whatever game they
were glued to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rest of the family
congregated around the couches, catching up on who was pregnant and other small
town gossip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gossip, something I
definitely did not miss.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Seeing the attic string hang loose
as I walked through the hallway, curiosity got the best of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew that my mother had packed up most of
my father’s belongings and stored them in the attic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I crawled slowly up the folding stairs trying
not to make a sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Boxes covered every
square inch of space in the dusty attic<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">.
I really should have helped my mother go through his things earlier</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I lost control as my hands ripped through box
after box of my father’s things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Exhausted, I sat surrounded by piles of his clothes that somehow still
smelled like him, emptiness took over. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was searching voraciously for something
that did not exist, answers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Why did my father have to be killed? Why did
my family seem to fall apart instead of bind together as so many others had?</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I put my head in my hands and cried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cried long and hard and ugly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I finally calmed myself down holding my
father’s favorite sweatshirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My sanity
began to resurface, realizing that this was why I was dreading coming home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was not my mother, or my annoying cousin
Teddy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did not want to feel this sadness
anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My mother had told me over and
over again that I was moving to Seattle to “escape myself”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never knew what she meant by it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All I knew was that she was wrong, until
now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had become my own worst
enemy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Deciding that living in a four
hundred square foot studio, above a nasty Chinese restaurant, in a state where
I did not know a soul would heal my metaphoric wounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My mother poked her head into the
attic, staring at me like this was a moment she had been anticipating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">How do
mothers always know?</i> She buried herself into the pile of clothes next to me
and hugged me tightly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I whimpered to her,
“I’m so sorry mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve been running
from myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You were right.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My mother looked at me tenderly and
whispered, “We have all been running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s time we start rebuilding us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We all hurt and feel incredible loss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Can we please do that together now?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I cannot stand the distance between us all.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I smiled as my brothers both
trudged into the attic, finding my mother and me blubbering on the floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They wrapped their arms around us both
tightly and we decided right then and there to be a family again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To stop hiding from the things that hurt, but
instead share the pain and move on together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Life is so fulfilling if you let it be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-86968384233607789872012-11-11T14:36:00.000-08:002012-11-11T14:36:51.682-08:00Six Sentence Sunday
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-font-kerning: 14.0pt;">David was taken aback by the sudden change in Lexi’s
demeanor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> He f</span>elt a loss as a detached veneer consumed her face and her earlier softness became a distant memory. David pleaded quietly for her to hear him out,
“Lexi, please".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ignoring his appeal, Lexi
entered the taxi smoothly and confidently, never revealing the agonizing sting she felt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><em>David has a girlfriend. </em>Lexi replayed the words over and over again in her head. </span></div>
L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-53662157751044717302012-11-07T10:05:00.002-08:002012-11-07T10:05:39.850-08:00BlipHere is a random blip from my work in progress, this may or may not be used in the final product.
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">"Whatever wedge Chelsea was
trying to drive between David and Lexi, it only made them feel more connected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lexi realized that this situation brought out
David’s true colors, and she enjoyed every shade."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6966340462954245682.post-13373649803537864532012-11-07T09:17:00.004-08:002012-11-07T09:17:42.715-08:00NEWBIE BLOGGER<br />
As a new writer, I felt it was important to have a place for my friends and <strong>future fans</strong> *wink wink* to check out my work. I work full time as a hairstylist, a job that I actually enjoy. However, writing has always been a passion and I have made the leap to make it happen. I am currently halfway through my first novel and am loving <em>almost</em> every minute of it. Thank you to all of my supporters and to the rest of you...please keep reading :)L.E. Patehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18203115102513155206noreply@blogger.com0