Winter Season

Language

Why?

“Let’s face it, I’m crazy about you and you’re crazy about me. This isn’t the first time I’ve wanted to rip your clothes off. And if you don’t know that I love you by now, let me tell you again.” She held his face in her hands, “Oscar Patterson, I love you.”

With what seemed like one fluid move from him, she was straddling his lap again. He kissed her with that wild, desperate kiss that made all her nerves like live wires. When he came up for air he said, “I have loved you since that night you helped me grade papers.” He rubbed his hand up her back under her shirt. “Stay with me tonight.”

“I’m assuming we are not talking about the guest bed?”

“I want to hold you like I held you the night you had a bad dream.”

“Do you think that wise?”

“I just want to be near you.”

“What will happen if we do?”

“That is between us and God. Or at least it should be but you know if anyone finds out my mother will delight in the Whore of Babylon bit.” He held her tightly for a long time. “Oh.” His hands were still under her shirt. “That.” He hissed as if he’d answered his own question.

“O,” She got up so she could meet him eye to eye. “I think it’s best if we put on the brakes. There will be all kinds of time for me to do the school girl routine, and believe you me, I will.”

“I can’t wait.” He kissed her. “You know that song, I want to kiss you all over?”

“Yeah.”

“I want to lick you all over.”

She giggled. “Oh indeed. But then, would I still get the extra credit.”

“All you need.” He ran his hands up her back again. This time he didn’t stop at her bra. He went under the material. His middle finger on his right hand touched a rough piece of flesh. As he moved his hand toward her side so he could feel what it was, he noticed she wasn’t breathing. “Ess, what is that?”

“I can’t tell you right now.” She looked as if she was going to cry.  

“But you will someday.”

“Yeah,” she choked, “someday.”

He pulled his knees up, gently guiding her against them. With a delicate touch, he traced the top of her bra that was exposed. Traced it with such care, as if it was a faberge egg.

She just watched him. If there was something bothering him, she wished he’d tell her. Back and forth with deliberate slowness, he caressed the material.

“Is purple your favorite color?”

Somehow she knew that wasn’t where his mind was. “Yes.” Her response was low.

When he spoke, his voice cracked. “Why do you love me?” He was no longer tracing the top of her bra. The expression on his face reminded her of a child seeing Santa for the first time. Curious, scared, excited, lost.

What kind of question was this? She couldn’t let him see the utter shock she felt.

He was watching her, waiting.

She took a deep breath, “You love me for who I am. You let me be myself. That is the best feeling in the world. You are kind. Nothing I do goes unnoticed. You knew what size to buy my Christmas present without asking.” Big tears streamed down his face. She carefully wiped them away. He was breaking her heart.

He focused his gaze back to her bra. “If my own mother doesn’t love me, how can you?”

She continued caressing his face. “I can’t speak for your mother. You are the kindest. Most caring, gentle, sweetest, smartest man I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I am excited; even with that big blob of shit hanging over my head.” He smiled though still crying. “I’m excited that you are in my life.”

He pulled her to him, burying his face in her cleavage, sobbing. When she draped her arms around his shoulder so she could hold his head and put her fingers in his hair, it seemed he cried that much harder.

It broke her heart.

Winter Season

Who knew?

Write about your first name: its meaning, significance, etymology, etc.

According to https://www.thebump.com/b/jolene-baby-name:

Jolene (Jo-leen)

Popularity: 967

Origin: Hebrew

Other Origin(s): German

Meaning: God is gracious

Though Germanic and Hebrew in origin, Jolene is a feminine name that comes courtesy of the United States. A blend of Jo and the suffix “-lene,” Jolene came to beguile the world through Dolly Parton’s acclaimed country hit. Synonymous with a powerful seductress, all emerald eyes and fiery hair, it’s no wonder Jolene has endured as a title for incomparable beauty. Its roots link it to the German and Hebrew Johannes, meaning “God is gracious.” Here’s to baby proving they are far more than a pretty face.

My pen name: Chico’s mom, comes from Chico.

I didn’t name him he was Chico when he came to live with me. Chico (Spanish pronunciation: [ˈtʃiko]) means small, boy or child in the Spanish language.

The Chihuahua (or Spanish: Chihuahueño) is a Mexican breed of toy dog. It is named for the Mexican state of Chihuahua and is among the smallest of all dog breeds.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chihuahua_(dog)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chico

Never thought until…

What’s your dream job?

Oh No! You Went to an Expensive Sandwich Place!

This is not the post. But Anthony Roberts wrote a post talking about people who have always known what they wanted to do. I replied to the post with something to the effect that I had no such aspirations. I envied people who always knew what they wanted to be from the time they were 3. Regardless of profession.

Mostly, I feel like a Wal-Mart bag blowing in the wind. There have been jobs in my past that I like but nothing keeps my attention long. The longest I’ve been at any one job was 9 years.

After starting this blog, I have done a lot of digging into my past. Most of it is this black hole. The memories I do have are meh. Some good. Some not so good. I found something (in my digging) that I wrote in 8th grade. I have found pieces and parts of stories that I wrote throughout high school.

Maybe this is me telling myself that I have always wanted to be an author in some respect. Write poems, tell stories. Take pictures of the weird and not so weird.

There is still at lot of work I need to do, but for the first time in a long time I feel like I’m on the right path. God knows. I just gotta figure it out. 🥰

Winter Season

Language, adult situation

School girl

“Mr. Patterson,” she giggled batting her eyelashes. “What can I do to get some extra credit? You see, I rrrreallllly want to fu..” She cleared her throat as she corrected herself. “sleep with the quarterback, but in order to do that I have to at least be on the cheer squad. But my grades aren’t good enough.” She unbuttoned three buttons on her shirt exposing the top of her purple bra.

“You’re way too good at this.” He moaned. “I don’t know a man alive that doesn’t want the school girl fantasy.”

“I guess I should just go ahead and tell you, I like to play. Plus, the right kind of roll playing can be fun, Oscar.” She licked her lips.

“You mean you don’t like sex?”

“Building up to sex is more fun. I like to play. I can only compare it to baking cookies, I had much rather eat the cookie dough than the baked cookie.”

“Esther, how much extra credit do you want?” He wanted to rip her clothes off and just give her all the extra credit she needed.

She returned to her school girl voice. “Oh gosh, Mr. Patterson.” She put an arm on either side of her breast and squeezed them together pushing them forward. Oscar didn’t think she needed any help. She put her finger on her bottom lip, batted her eyes again and pouted. “I don’t have a really good grade in your class, science is sooo boring. I mean who really cares how rocks are formed or how to cut open a pomegranate and deseed the damn thing.” She giggled, “darn thing.”

“No you don’t. As a matter of fact, I think you have a D.”

“Shit.” She blushed and giggled. “Oh, shoot. I need at least a B before I can even try out.” She giggled waving her fingers in the air, “I have the hottest routine too.”

“I’m afraid that’s going to be a lot of extra credit.”

She walked on her knees closer to him, stopping at his elevated knee. The material of her shirt pulsed as she moved. She smacked her lips together as she moved closer, then straddled his lap. Her tongue was hot and moist as she licked the nap of his neck all the way up to the top of his chin then back down to his adam’s apple.

“Lock the door Esther.” He moaned.

She sucked at his adam’s apple, gently at first. But once she noticed it drove him wild, she played harder. But not too hard, no one wants a hickey, unless you really are in the 10th grade. “The door is locked Mr. Patterson.” She no longer had her school girl voice. Her voice was low, sexy and struck a cord deep inside him. “We can’t let anyone see just how much I want to be a cheerleader.” He gasped as she kissed around to his ear. He had no idea that his ear could be an erogenous zone. With each lick, each nibble, he found it harder to breathe. “Tell me why every man has the school girl fantasy?”

He hissed, “I can’t speak for every man.”

“Then tell me why you have it.” She moved over to his other ear.

He laid his head back on the couch, panting, “please.”

“Please what?” She hissed.

“We can’t do this.”

She stopped, “as you wish.” She laid her head on his shoulder, listening to the pounding of his heart. How she loved that sound. She was almost asleep when she felt him move.

“Esther?”

“Yes, my love.”

“Love,” he panted enjoying the sound of it on his lips.

Winter Season

Chico for president

What makes a good leader?

Look at me. Am I not the cutest? Look at my ears. Am I not adorable?
I work for treats and the occasional steak.
My leadership skills are bar none. Dog therapy is very popular. I bark at everything. I’m cute. I think I’m a Mastiff. I give free hugs and kisses. 💋 What’s not to love?

Winter Season

Rabbit hole

The first day of school happened right on schedule. No ice storm hit the area.

Christmas break was much too short.

This day had been a nightmare. He was so emotionally drained that it worried him a little. Days like this made him want to quit teaching. With his head pounding, he laid in the floor to relieve some of the tension he felt.

Esther had watched him from her window. She was waiting for him to come home. She wanted to do something nice for him, beings it was the first day of school and all. After a couple minutes watching the house, she braced herself against the cold and went over. The first ring of the door bell received no reply.

All Oscar really wanted was the quiet desperation of his sanctuary or Esther’s touch whichever one he could get. And at the moment, it was the quietness of his house.

One more ring, if she got no reply she’d go back home. Then she thought she should tell him who was at the door. “Oscar, it’s me.” His heart skipped a beat, Esther. He wanted to be near her. But in all honesty he couldn’t get out of the floor.

“Come in.”

He had locked the door and she had to use her key. She peeked through the door. “Oscar?”

“Come on in. Forgive me, if I don’t get up.”

The cold draft from the open door soothed his throbbing head.

“O, are you okay?”

“Not really.”

He was lying in the floor between the couch and the coffee table. His coat, shoes, and work bag were lying in a heap beside the couch. This was not normal behavior.

Esther sat down, gliding his head to her lap before tracing; with the greatest care all around his face with her finger tips. She was working magic. All of the stress of the day melted like butter in the sun.

“I wanted to do something nice for you since it was the first day of school. Like fix supper or take you out.”

“You are doing something nice for me.” He whispered.

“Are you able to talk about it?”

“When I first started teaching, it was about the science. It was fun. Now it’s about making sure John gets an A so he can play football.  Mary doesn’t understand why her son is failing basic science, after all his daddy cooks meth. Suzie is too pretty to give a rat’s rump about the world being flat. She has to try out for cheerleading. And did you see the size of Tiffany’s breast implants. I can’t believe she got the best Christmas present eeevvveer! Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Patterson, the world is round.” He mocked her little giggle. “It’s enough to drive you insane.”

“How long have you been teaching?”

“99.”

“Wow.”

“As soon as I finished student teaching; I started work. I’m about ready to jump off the deep end.”

“Please don’t jump.”

“You could jump with me.”

“Now wouldn’t that be interesting; company in the rabbit hole.”

With great difficultly he got up to where he was leaning against the couch. Though his head wasn’t pounding anymore, his body was weak. One leg was flat on the floor and the knee of his other leg was pointed toward the ceiling. She thought Oscar looked sleek and kinda sexy setting like that.

Winter Season

Just my opinion

If you could un-invent something, what would it be?

I try not to use this platform for my soapboxes. While I do share my religious views, this platform for me is about writing, sharing my work. Thank you to all who have read my posts.

With that being said, I have a 96 year old friend that said, “if you want to improve your mental health, stop watching the news.” I believe he’s right.

In my opinion, the worst thing that ever happened to the news was the Nielsen ratings (US). The news should never be in a ratings system. This opens the door for people to make stuff up. Sensationalize things that never should have been in the news in the first place. And share your opinion as the gospel facts. The news shouldn’t be entertaining, sexy, or attractive. It’s the news. We shouldn’t have 24 hour news broadcasts. The only people (I feel) that need 24 hours news is the president and our military leaders.

I remember when I was little and you made a point to watch the evening news. 30 minutes. That’s all. From time to time, there would be a special broadcast but they were rare.

We watched a documentary about the Snow Child Killer in MI. While the case was active, this reporter tracked one of the suspects questioning him as he’s walking from his job to his truck. It made me so mad. Do you really want your 15 minutes of fame that bad that you would jeopardize an active investigation?

News is important, wrongs have been righted because someone blow the lid off of a story. Too much of anything is a bad thing.

Just my opinion.

Cable News Ratings 2023: Fox News Dominates, But MSNBC Is Only Major Network With Year-Over-Year Audience Growth

Winter Season

Language

That summer

Esther watched him blindly set down, holding the book open, staring at the dandelion. “You saved my life and I gave you a dandelion.” He snubbed, “I really am a cheap ass bastard.”

She took the book laying it on the coffee table. “O, you could have given me a gold bar and I wouldn’t have treasured it more.”

He fell into her, crying on her chest.

That really was the best summer of his life. After that, things changed.

All his weekends or days off from school were consumed with work.

The school bus stopped running all the way to his house. If his parents had a job lined up, they would pick him up at his aunt and uncles but if not. He had to walk home. Once it was snowing, Karen felt sorry for him and took him home. His mom; to Karen’s face, thanked her – bluh, bluh, bluh. But when they got in the house; she jerked Oscar’s pants down, had the belt raised over her head. Oscar remembered screaming; “I didn’t ask her to. She just told me to get in the car! You told me to always respect my elders!” That was the only time he remembered ‘escapin’ a scarin’.

The bus had to go about a mile past his aunt and uncles house to turn around. His mom told the bus driver to drop him off there. Sometimes they were waiting on him. Sometimes not. If he had to walk home and missed dinner, oh well. ‘You should have ran instead of walked’, his mother scoffed.

He remembered the number of times that walk scared him. Creepy darkness. Strange animal sounds. Dead silence. But no matter how scared he was. Or how hungry he was, he would not run. There was a hill before you got to his house. If the weather was nice, his parents would stop (if he had made it to the hill) and pick him up. But it the hill was slick in any way, they would pass him by. It was too hard to stop and start on a mud, snow, or ice covered hill.

One instance, it was raining. He was soaked from head to toe. Mud was caked on his shoes. He heard the roar of the truck as his dad floored it to get a ‘run and go’ up the hill. As they passed him, mud flew all over him. It was even in his hair. When he finally made it home; his mom looked at him with her hands on her hips, ‘I guess next time you’ll get out of the way.’ He wasn’t allowed to go in the house to change. He had to strip, outside in the rain, set his clothes on the porch to drain before he could come inside.

His uncle gave is dad a walking stick. One he had carved himself. It had snowed. His dad walked with him to the hill. Oscar could only guess to get away from his mom for a minute. His dad dropped the stick and it slid down the hill. ‘Bring that back to me.’ His dad smacked him on the back of the head. It was so unexpected that Oscar lost his footing and slid down the hill. The act of taking the stick back to his dad caused him to miss the bus. What was he going to do? If he didn’t go to school, they would whoop him. If he asked his aunt and uncle to take him, they’d whoop him. If he walked to school, they would be getting out about the time he made it. At least he would be riding the bus home. He just stood in that wide spot unable to move. A voice brought him around, “hey son, you okay?” It was the mailman.

“I missed the bus.”

“Didn’t you hear? They called school off today.” His vehicle was full of mail. But he let Oscar ride in the back. He had an old blanket that he let Oscar use to cover up. “I know this isn’t idea. I’ll turn the heat on full. Make sure it gets back here. I stop at your parent’s house last. That okay?”

Oscar wanted to cry. He couldn’t speak. All he could do was shake his head – yes. The mailman gently shut the hatch. In no time, Oscar was warm and asleep. When he was delivered. As it were. His mom just laughed, ‘guess I’d better start listenin’ to the radio’. When he was inside the house, she knocked him to the floor. “How could you embarrass me this way? Keep up with your own shit.”

His brother never had to walk that road. His brother got taken to school everyday. And picked up every evening.

He read his aunts diary long after she passed. She had tried to get him taken away from his parents much like he had tried to get Alex taken away and got the same answer, ‘can’t substantiate abuse’. When he turned 16, his aunt and uncle paid his parents to let him be dropped off after school to help around the house. They were getting sicker. But on weekends, he belonged to his dad.

He remembered one time that his dad didn’t make him work. They had stopped at a little diner for breakfast and he wouldn’t eat. His dad took him home. Oscar was so afraid that he would get in trouble. But when they got home, his dad told him to go to bed and nothing more was said.

He got to work 2 nights as a waiter at that little diner. On the second night; as Oscar climbed in the truck his dad said, “this shit ain’t worth it. It’s past my bed time.” And that was the end of that.

Winter Season