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<p class="MsoNormal"><u>#1<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Abbie</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u>Abbie</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="text-decoration:none"> </span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u>I think the synopsis does have a hook. </u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This is the synopsis and prologue to my new novel, which I
just finished writing. I re-wrote the prologue after attending a writers'
conference and realizing the opening paragraph didn't have much of a hook. This
is the rewriten version. I'm including the synopsis first so you all will have
an idea of what the book is about. *** THE RED Dress SYNOPSIS When Eve went to
her high school senior prom, she wore a red dress that her mother made for her.
That night after dancing with the boy of her dreams, she caught him in the act
with her best friend. Months later when the book opens, Eve, a freshman in
college, is bullied into giving the dress to her roommate. </p>
<ul style="margin-top:0in" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>I’m<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>not sure that the word bullied is the best
one to describe what happened. True, the roommate<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>had the empathy of a doorknob and as
ruthless as Trump in getting what she wanted, but bullying does not quite
describe the scenario.</u></li></ul>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.25in"><u><span style="text-decoration:
none"> </span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When her mother finds out, their relationship is affected.
Twenty-five years later, Eve, a bestselling author, is happily married with
three children. Although her mother suffers from dementia, she still remembers,
and Eve still harbors the guilt for giving the dress away. When she receives an
invitation to her twenty-five-year class reunion and a friend request from her
old college roommate on Facebook, and meets her former best friend by chance,
she must confront the past in order to face the future. The RED DRESS October
1987 Prologue </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Oh Eve, don't tell me you're going to work on that
creative writing assignment now instead of going to the homecoming dance."
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In her dorm room at Colorado University,
Eve Barry had been staring at the blank piece of paper in her typewriter,
waiting for her poised fingers to produce something. She sighed and ran her
fingers through her long blonde hair, as she turned to her roommate, Charlene
Tucker, who was fresh from the shower, clad only in a black terry-doth robe,
her dark wet curls plastered to her head. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I'm really not interested in going to the dance, and
this assignment's due Monday. I went to the game this afternoon..." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Yeah, wasn't that awesome? We creamed the Wyoming
Cowboys." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Wait a minute. You're from Wyoming." "Yeah, but I'm in Colorado now, and we
have something to celebrate. You really should come to the dance. I know you
don't have a date, but I'm sure Alex wouldn't mind if you came with us." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I really should work on this tonight, so I'm not
cramming to get it done tomorrow on top of my other assignments, especially
since I'm suffering from writers' block. With just about everybody at the
dance, I shouldn't have any distractions, and maybe something will come to
me." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Charlene rolled her eyes and moved to her side of the room,
where she switched on her bedside radio, tuned to a soft rock station.
"What was the assignment again?" she asked, as she removed her
bathrobe and began applying lotion.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>"I'm supposed to
write about a memorable piece of clothing." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Thaf s easy. Write about the dress you wore your first day
of kindergarten when you threw up all over the nun who hit you with a ruler for
being late." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Eve almost laughed. 'That's not my story. You're the one who
went to a parochial school." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"So, it's still a story. Your professor will never know
the difference." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Eve sighed again. She wasnt surprised by her roommate's
attitude. Chariene didn't understand or appreciate literature the way Eve did.
She watched Charlene finish applying lotion, dry her hair, and put on her
undergarments, then rifle through her closet for something to wear to the
dance. All the while, Charlene prattled on about Alex Smith, the boy who would
accompany her to the dance, the captain of the football team, how handsome he
was in his uniform, how he could throw a ball and run. She realized why
Chariene was suddenly loyal to the Colorado
University team and felt
like throwing up. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="text-decoration:none"> </span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Finally, Chariene said, "Ugg, there's nothing good here
for me to wear. If you're not gonna go to the dance, could I borrow something
from your closer?" </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Sure, whatever," answered Eve. She was anxious
for Charlene to leave, so she could continue to stare at the blank sheet of
paper in her typewriter and hope a story idea would come to her. She turned
back to her desk. Hangers in her closet scraped against the metal bar, as
articles of clothing were shoved aside. "Oh, look at this!" said
Chariene. Eve turned and could only stare at the bright red dress she'd hoped
to forget along with the memories. Chariene held the garment at arm's length,
admiring the three-quarter-inch sleeves, low neckline, and gathered waist. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Oh my God, this is beautiful. Where did you get it,
and why do you keep it in the back of your closet?" </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.25in"><u><span style="text-decoration:
none"> </span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="text-decoration:none"> </span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Eve then heard the mellow strains of "Lady in Red"
emanating from the radio, the song she'd pushed to the back of her mind and
hoped never to hear again. Chariene, apparently sensing something was wrong,
laid the dress on Eve's bed and hurried to her side. Kneeling and taking her
hand, she said, "Hey Eve, what is it?" Eve could hold back no longer.
Tears streaming down her face, she said, "I wore that dress, and we danced
to that song." "Oh God," said Chariene, leaping to her feet. She
hurried to her side of the room and turned off the radio, then returned. The
next thing Eve knew, she was crying on Charlene's shoulder, as her roommate
knelt on the floor next to her chair and held her. The incident had occurred
several months earlier, but the wound was still fresh. Finally, when no more
tears would come, she sat up and blew her nose. "There's your story,"
said Charlene. "but maybe you'd better tell me first." To her
surprise, Eve found herself blurting it all out. "Mom made that dress for
my senior prom. I had a date with Trent Boyer, the cutest boy in school. He was
the captain of the football team, and I loved watching him play."
"Wow, just like Alex." "Yeah, well, at the prom, we danced to
that song, and I felt like I truly loved him, and I thought he loved me.
Afterward, he said he had to use the rest room. Other boys asked me to dance,
and I got to talking with my friends, and when I looked around the gym later, I
couldn't find him. I asked my friends if they'd seen him, and they just shook
their heads." "Oh gosh." "Like I said, I thought he loved
me. I didn't think he'd leave me. I decided to go out to the parking lot to see
if his car was still there. He'd dropped me off at the entrance, so I didn't
know where he'd parked, and it took me a while to find his car, but I did, in a
dark comer up against the fence to the football field. I looked in the window
and saw two figures in the back seat." "Oh my God." "I
thought I was imagining things. I was on the driver's side, so I opened that
door, and of course the light came on, and there they were, Trent and my best
friend Adelle Matthews, or at least I thought she was my best friend." Eve
paused to fight back more tears, and Chariene asked, "Were they actually
having intercourse, or were they just necking?" They were totally naked.
Of course they stopped when I opened the door, and they both looked at me like
I was from another planet or something. I said a few choice words I learned
from my dad, then slammed the door and ran back into the building."
"Good for you." "I went to the restroom and cried my eyes out.
Fortunately, no one was there. Then, I washed my face and put on more make-up
so I wouldn't look as if I'd been crying. I went to the pay phone in the hall
near the main office and called home. Mom answered, and she could tell
something was wrong, so she came and picked me up." "I'll bet you didn't
want to go back to school after that." "I didn't, but Mom said it
wouldn't do any good to hide from my problems. I had to face them head
on." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"So what did you do when you saw Trent and Adelle at
school?" </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I didn't speak to them, and they never spoke to me.
Other kids knew, I think, but nobody said anything to me about it. Boy was I
glad a few weeks later when graduation came." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I bet. Have you heard from Adelle or Trent since
then?" </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"No, Adelle was planning to come with me here and major
in drama, like you, but I heard that Trent got
her pregnant and that they ran off to Las
Vegas to get married." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"So why did you bring that dress with you?"
"Mom insisted I take it in case there was something formal here."
"Like the homecoming dance." "I'm not going to the dance. You
can borrow the dress if you want." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"You know, I can see why you put this dress in the back
of your closet. It's only hurting you now. Let me take it off your hands. You
dont need it anymore." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"But my mother made it.Of course I wanted a
store-bought dress, but she wanted to save money and make me one. She worked
long days at her job as director of the public library. There were only two
weeks until the prom when I told her I wanted a new dress, so she stayed up
nights and scrambled to get it done." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Oh you poor homesick baby. Now you miss your mommy,
who made this beautiful dress for you. Are you gonna cry now? Go ahead. Cry,
baby. Cry." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Eve was stunned but shouldn't have been surprised, she
realized. She knew her roommate cared little about others' feelings. Her
sympathy and curiosity were only a ploy, and she would stop at nothing to get
what she wanted. "Fine, take the damn dress. I don't care," she said
before turning away in disgust. Out of the comer of her eye, she saw Chariene
slip the garment over her head. She had to admit it looked good on her. A few
minutes later, a knock came at the door. Chariene opened it, and a tall young
man with dark hair and blue eyes stood on the threshold. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Hi Alex," said Chariene. "I just need to
grab my cigarettes, and then we can go. Come in and meet my roommate." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"You're not coming to the dance?" Alex asked after
they were introduced. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"No, Eve's going to stay here and write the great
American novel," Charlene answered. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Wow," said Alex. "Good luck. I can't wait to
read it. Let's go, babe." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Soon, they were gone. Eve sighed, turned to her typewriter,
placed her fingers on the keys, and started writing. Abbie Johnson Taylor,
Author http://abbiescorner.wordpress.com http://www.abbiejohnsontavlor.com
abbietaylor945@Qmail.com Order my new memoir</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">at http://www.abbiejohnsontavlor.com/memolr.htm ^___ Group2
mailing list Group2@bluegrasspals.com</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<div style="mso-element:para-border-div;border:none;border-bottom:solid windowtext 1.0pt;
mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;padding:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border:none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;
padding:0in;mso-padding-alt:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in">httpj//bluearasspals.com/mailman/listinfo/QrouD2</p>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u># 2 Brad</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="text-decoration:none"> </span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.0in"><u>This piece is beautiful,
terrible and powerful. I doubt that the message has been said better by any
writer ever.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.0in"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.0in"><br>
Momentary Molecular Mishaps<br>
C By Brad Corallo<br>
Word count 134<br style="mso-special-character:line-break">
<br style="mso-special-character:line-break">
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>Intriguing title. It really captures<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>the essence of this piece.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.75in"><br>
In unexpected random moments <br>
alone in the 2 am dark say;</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>I don’t get what ‘say’ means here.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.75in"><br>
an inevitable realization of subtle slippage crystallizes.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>I think you are describing confrontation with
mortality. We keep the realization at bay, even if we talk openly about it. The
existential feeling is something very different from intellectual
acceptance.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>You have described<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>this internal wrestling match with great
skill. And that is an understatement.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.75in"><br>
Far away, down deep yet insistent, <br>
you feel the rhythmic pulse <br>
of your very being, loosen.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>Eventhough you don’t need the word ‘very’’, I
would not argue for you to take it out. It does give some kind of extra
emphasis.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.75in"><br>
The panic you feel<br>
must be immediately assuaged!<br>
Banish the terrible awareness.<br>
Time and life running out. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>That’s as clear as a sledge hammer to the
head.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.25in"><br>
Fowled water flowing into the depths of an ancient drain.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>The rotting away of our organic existence.
It’s true. We are all rotting away, but life threatening illness can shine that
awareness into our inner eyes like a police interrogation light. Not a lot of
fun.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.25in"><br>
Quick, counter measures, anxiolytic opposition. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>I had to look that last word up in my wife’s
nursing book. I knew it’s meaning<span style="mso-spacerun:yes">
</span>though, without having heard the word before.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I like the word, but it might throw some
readers off.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.25in"><br>
You want to cry, no one to hold you, you're so afraid!<br>
<br>
But no, everything is OK <br>
you will sleep.<br>
In the morning,<br>
the perception will be less than a memory.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>Does that strategy work for you? </u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.25in"><br>
Then, you will breathe a sigh of relief<br>
For no matter how diligently you probe <br>
the feeling will be artfully dispersed;<br>
concealed In the detritus of morning ritual and happenstance. <br style="mso-special-character:line-break">
<br style="mso-special-character:line-break">
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>Is that what really happens?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If it does work, I think it is a form of
mindfulness.</u></p>
<div style="mso-element:para-border-div;border:none;border-bottom:solid windowtext 1.0pt;
mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;padding:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;
margin-left:1.25in;margin-right:0in">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border:none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;
padding:0in;mso-padding-alt:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in"><br style="mso-special-character:
line-break">
<br style="mso-special-character:line-break">
</p>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="text-decoration:none"> </span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="text-decoration:none"> </span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u>Val</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="text-decoration:none"> </span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt"><u>Beautiful<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>unrequited or secret love song. It made this
reader yearn to know the rest of the story that inspired this heart breaking,
beautiful piece.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>At first I thought it
was about a man. But it doesn’t have to be a man. It doesn’t have to be a
wished for lover. It culd be a grtown child that a mother was compelled to give
up. Is this fiction or something else? WOW!</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt">oll of you on a un named<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>road<br>
you don't know I'm there<br>
I keep silent<br>
hang back</p>
<ul style="margin-top:0in" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt;mso-list:l4 level1 lfo3;
tab-stops:list .5in"><u>Who is this person? Do you know him? Why is he
untouchable? I assume it is a ma</u>n<u>., but there are a lot of other
possibilities.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I am dying to know.</u></li></ul>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:12.0pt;
margin-left:.25in"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:12.0pt;
margin-left:.25in">my heart aching<br>
<br>
Wind rustles your dark curls<br>
your guitar over your strong back<br>
as cold drizzling rain falls<br>
<br>
Turn around, sweet angel<br>
all I long to do <br>
is to see your face<br>
your eyes so dark and deep<br>
I want to drown in them<br>
<br>
you stop<br>
take your guitar<br>
sit on a riverbank<br>
water gently flowing<br>
singing a prayer or lullabye<br>
<br>
I love you <br>
more than you'll ever know<br>
you're in my soul<br>
tears trickle as the rain stops<br>
sun breaks through<br>
again</p>
<ul style="margin-top:0in" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt;mso-list:l4 level1 lfo3;
tab-stops:list .5in"><u>It ends on a positive note. The sun breaks
through.</u><br>
<br>
Valerie Moreno<br>
6-8-18<br>
________<br>
Turn and face your fear and it will disappear like it wasn't there.<br>
-Yusuf/Cat Stevens</li></ul>
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mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;padding:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border:none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;
padding:0in;mso-padding-alt:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in"><a href="https://mail.aol.com/webmail-std/en-us/basic">Jump to Toolbar</a></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="text-decoration:none"> </span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u>Alice</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="text-decoration:none"> </span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u>Because of the many electronic transferences necessary
for me to work with it, the imperfections of the copies has destroyed the
graphical configuration of the work.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I
know this to be a fact by virtue, of the discrepancy between your line count
and mine.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I suspect much of the poetic
character has been lost in the muddle.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes">
</span>Some of the words havalso been incorrectly copied in the process. I’ve
broken down the lines into what for me seems logical<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>thought parcels.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A Cascade of Camels</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="1" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo4;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>Good
title.</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">poem by Alice Jane-Marie Massa</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Near the end of the Milwaukee Christmas Parade, '</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">the much awaited camels came.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Facing my large window on Kilbourn Ave.,</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="2" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo4;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>Nice<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>end of line rhymes in these 3 lines.</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I encourage my guide dog to watch for the camels.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Typical of her breed and demeanor,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">my third Leader Dog, Zoe,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">lifts her paw and points or waves.</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="3" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo4;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>good
alliteration.</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Surely, she is right</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="4" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo4;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>‘Surely’
denotes hopeful optimism. But there is no doubt that she is right.
‘Absolutely right’ might be more accurate. </u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal">because the television broadcast confirms</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="5" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo4;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>Do
you need ‘Because?’</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">the live camels are coming in sight.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">These graceful camels click a photograph in my mind: </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">the hot summer memory of my younger nephew and me</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">, perched upon a soft camel at the Indianapolis Zoo.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Who would have guessed? </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Who would imagine </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That little Eric would someday </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">ride a rhythmical camel on the lonely desert of Kuwait
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">while waiting to fly into the midnight of Iraq on Christmas Eve?</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="6" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo4;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>While
waiting to fly into midnight Iraque.</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He fell off the wild camel,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">but landed safely in war-torn Bagdad.</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="7" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo4;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>Sounds
like out of the kettle and into the fire to me. Hardly safer.</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Eleven months later,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">my nephew came back</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">home, sweet whole:</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="8" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo4;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>I
think you meant to use ‘whole’ and not ‘home..</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">wiser and well-</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">as strong and tall as a camel.</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="9" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo4;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>Good
internal rhyme and alliteration in these 2 lines.</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="10" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo4;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>At
his point I’ll stop making stylistic comments. This<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>piece is all about the story. That is
its heart. I love the story. I think it would be aided by just thinking of
it as prose. Beautiful prose.</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">An Army Ranger, veteran of Afghanistan also, still serving
in the National Guard, now a husband and daddy-- Eric takes his five-year-old
daughter and his two-year-old son to the zoo to see the camels. "Look,
Daddy!" shouts Caden. Keenly observant since childhood, Eric has seen so
muchmuch more midst this cascade of camels. .</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I wish for him,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">his children, ,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">and the world-</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">a greater peace </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">than Eric saw and holds</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">in his memory . ... .• . .</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">as he holds</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">his precious children.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<div style="mso-element:para-border-div;border:none;border-bottom:solid windowtext 1.0pt;
mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;padding:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;
margin-left:.25in;margin-right:0in">
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="1" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.25in;mso-list:l3 level1 lfo5;
tab-stops:list .5in;border:none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;
padding:0in;mso-padding-alt:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in"><u>You’ve brought the piece
home very nicely.</u></li></ol>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"># 2<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Brad</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.0in"><u>This piece is beautiful,
terrible and powerful. I doubt that the message has been said better by any
writer ever.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.0in"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.0in"><br>
Momentary Molecular Mishaps<br>
C By Brad Corallo<br>
Word count 134<br style="mso-special-character:line-break">
<br style="mso-special-character:line-break">
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>Intriguing title. It really captures<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>the essence of this piece.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.75in"><br>
In unexpected random moments <br>
alone in the 2 am dark say;</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>I don’t get what ‘say’ means here.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.75in"><br>
an inevitable realization of subtle slippage crystallizes.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>I think you are describing confrontation with
mortality. We keep the realization at bay, even if we talk openly about it. The
existential feeling is something very different from intellectual
acceptance.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>You have described<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>this internal wrestling match with great skill.
And that is an understatement.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.75in"><br>
Far away, down deep yet insistent, <br>
you feel the rhythmic pulse <br>
of your very being, loosen.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>Eventhough you don’t need the word ‘very’’, I
would not argue for you to take it out. It does give some kind of extra
emphasis.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.75in"><br>
The panic you feel<br>
must be immediately assuaged!<br>
Banish the terrible awareness.<br>
Time and life running out. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>That’s as clear as a sledge hammer to the
head.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.25in"><br>
Fowled water flowing into the depths of an ancient drain.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>The rotting away of our organic existence.
It’s true. We are all rotting away, but life threatening illness can shine that
awareness into our inner eyes like a police interrogation light. Not a lot of
fun.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.25in"><br>
Quick, counter measures, anxiolytic opposition. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>I had to look that last word up in my wife’s
nursing book. I knew it’s meaning<span style="mso-spacerun:yes">
</span>though, without having heard the word before.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I like the word, but it might throw some
readers off.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.25in"><br>
You want to cry, no one to hold you, you're so afraid!<br>
<br>
But no, everything is OK <br>
you will sleep.<br>
In the morning,<br>
the perception will be less than a memory.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;
mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>Does that strategy work for you? </u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.25in"><br>
Then, you will breathe a sigh of relief<br>
For no matter how diligently you probe <br>
the feeling will be artfully dispersed;<br>
concealed In the detritus of morning ritual and happenstance. <br style="mso-special-character:line-break">
<br style="mso-special-character:line-break">
</p>
<div style="mso-element:para-border-div;border:none;border-bottom:solid windowtext 1.0pt;
mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;padding:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;
margin-left:1.25in;margin-right:0in">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.25in;text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l2 level1 lfo2;
tab-stops:list 1.5in;border:none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;
padding:0in;mso-padding-alt:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:
Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>Is that what really happens?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If it does work, I think it is a form of mindfulness.</u></p>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:1.25in"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">#<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>3 Alice</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u>Because of the many electronic transferences necessary
for me to work with it, the imperfections of the copies has destroyed the
graphical configuration of the work.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I
know this to be a fact by virtue, of the discrepancy between your line count
and mine.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I suspect much of the poetic
character has been lost in the muddle.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes">
</span>Some of the words havalso been incorrectly copied in the process. I’ve
broken down the lines into what for me seems logical<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>thought parcels.</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A Cascade of Camels</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="11" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo6;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>Good
title.</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">poem by Alice Jane-Marie Massa</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Near the end of the Milwaukee Christmas Parade, '</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">the much awaited camels came.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Facing my large window on Kilbourn Ave.,</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="12" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo6;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>Nice<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>end of line rhymes in these 3 lines.</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I encourage my guide dog to watch for the camels.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Typical of her breed and demeanor,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">my third Leader Dog, Zoe,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">lifts her paw and points or waves.</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="13" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo6;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>good
alliteration.</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Surely, she is right</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="14" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo6;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>‘Surely’
denotes hopeful optimism. But there is no doubt that she is right.
‘Absolutely right’ might be more accurate. </u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal">because the television broadcast confirms</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="15" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo6;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>Do
you need ‘Because?’</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">the live camels are coming in sight.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">These graceful camels click a photograph in my mind: </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">the hot summer memory of my younger nephew and me</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">, perched upon a soft camel at the Indianapolis Zoo.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Who would have guessed? </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Who would imagine </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That little Eric would someday </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">ride a rhythmical camel on the lonely desert of Kuwait
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">while waiting to fly into the midnight of Iraq on Christmas Eve?</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="16" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo6;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>While
waiting to fly into midnight Iraque.</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He fell off the wild camel,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">but landed safely in war-torn Bagdad.</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="17" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo6;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>Sounds
like out of the kettle and into the fire to me. Hardly safer.</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Eleven months later,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">my nephew came back</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">home, sweet whole:</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="18" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo6;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>I
think you meant to use ‘whole’ and not ‘home..</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">wiser and well-</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">as strong and tall as a camel.</p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="19" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo6;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>Good
internal rhyme and alliteration in these 2 lines.</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="20" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo6;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>At
his point I’ll stop making stylistic comments. This<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>piece is all about the story. That is
its heart. I love the story. I think it would be aided by just thinking of
it as prose. Beautiful prose.</u></li></ol>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">An Army Ranger, veteran of Afghanistan also, still serving
in the National Guard, now a husband and daddy-- Eric takes his five-year-old
daughter and his two-year-old son to the zoo to see the camels. "Look, Daddy!"
shouts Caden. Keenly observant since childhood, Eric has seen so muchmuch more
midst this cascade of camels. .</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I wish for him,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">his children, ,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">and the world-</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">a greater peace </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">than Eric saw and holds</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">in his memory . ... .• . .</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">as he holds</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">his precious children.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<ol style="margin-top:0in" start="2" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l3 level1 lfo7;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>You’ve
brought the piece home very nicely.</u></li></ol>
<div style="mso-element:para-border-div;border:none;border-bottom:solid windowtext 1.0pt;
mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;padding:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="border:none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;
padding:0in;mso-padding-alt:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in"> </p>
</div>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">#4 Val</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt"><u>Beautiful<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>unrequited or secret love song. It made this
reader yearn to know the rest of the story that inspired this heart breaking,
beautiful piece.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>At first I thought it
was about a man. But it doesn’t have to be a man. It doesn’t have to be a
wished for lover. It culd be a grtown child that a mother was compelled to give
up. Is this fiction or something else? WOW!</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt">oll of you on a un named<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>road<br>
you don't know I'm there<br>
I keep silent<br>
hang back</p>
<ul style="margin-top:0in" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt;mso-list:l4 level1 lfo8;
tab-stops:list .5in"><u>Who is this person? Do you know him? Why is he
untouchable? I assume it is a ma</u>n<u>., but there are a lot of other
possibilities.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I am dying to know.</u></li></ul>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:12.0pt;
margin-left:.25in"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:12.0pt;
margin-left:.25in">my heart aching<br>
<br>
Wind rustles your dark curls<br>
your guitar over your strong back<br>
as cold drizzling rain falls<br>
<br>
Turn around, sweet angel<br>
all I long to do <br>
is to see your face<br>
your eyes so dark and deep<br>
I want to drown in them<br>
<br>
you stop<br>
take your guitar<br>
sit on a riverbank<br>
water gently flowing<br>
singing a prayer or lullabye<br>
<br>
I love you <br>
more than you'll ever know<br>
you're in my soul<br>
tears trickle as the rain stops<br>
sun breaks through<br>
again</p>
<ul style="margin-top:0in" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt;mso-list:l4 level1 lfo8;
tab-stops:list .5in"><u>It ends on a positive note. The sun breaks
through.</u><br>
<br>
Valerie Moreno<br>
6-8-18<br>
________<br>
Turn and face your fear and it will disappear like it wasn't there.<br>
-Yusuf/Cat Stevens</li></ul>
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</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object
classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id=ieooui></object>
<style>
st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) }
</style>
<![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-ansi-language:#0400;
mso-fareast-language:#0400;
mso-bidi-language:#0400;}
</style>
<![endif]--></div>