At times, we have dark thoughts, but try not to share them with others.

 

Sometimes, however, we do. As a result, there are consequences we may not have anticipated. So we ask . . .

 

 

Can we . . .

 

be held accountable

for what

we thought

about doing,

but didn’t do?

Who makes

the decision?

Yes, I’m asking you.

How can I find

the answer?

 

What?

You say

I have the answer.

But that’s impossible.

That’s why

I’m asking you.

 

I’m lost

and need

your assistance.

Please—

help me.

 

Is that your hand?

May I

take it?

I can’t.

But why not?

Aren’t you

supposed

to help me?

 

Don’t I deserve

a second chance?

I didn’t pull

the trigger.

 

Yes,

I thought

about doing it,

but I didn’t.

And you

know that.

Don’t you?

 

You were there.

You’re always there.

So now,

what am I

supposed to do?

 

What?

Accept

my punishment.

But I’m

innocent.

 

You can’t

be serious.

I should

have known better.

 

I’m not

a murderer.

I don’t

even own

a gun.

How can I

be guilty?

 

Thinking about

doing it

is not a crime.

Is it?

 

Yes,

I did share

my feelings

with her.

But I

didn’t tell her

to do it.

 

Where are you?

Did you leave?

Say something.

You have

to help me.

 

It’s getting dark

in here.

The lights.

Where

are the lights?

It’s pitch black.

Where am I?

And why

aren’t you listening?

 

I’m feeling

closed in—

trapped.

I can’t move.

 

I need air.

I can’t breathe,

I’m drifting.

 

But where?

But where?

But where?

But where?

But . . .

 

 

Copyright © 2022 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

The unexpected can turn your world upside down. It can leave your life in disarray.

 

Coping with the turmoil can be impossible, as you will see in . . .

 

 

Mommy And Daddy Dearest

 

This is a story that begs to be told, but to date has been shrouded in mystery. It is a tale about two different people, with divergent lifestyles, who end up together.

 

Mommy’s birth baffled both friends and family. Her father, who came from money, always dressed in a pinstriped, three-piece suit and shirt decorated with a colored tie, and never disrobed. A gambler, who bet on the horses and played in weekly poker games, he did not come home until late most nights and never seemed to be intimate with his wife. Could this man have produced a child?

 

As she grew up, Mommy was very bright and challenged her teachers in a way they could not understand. She looked at them with disgust in her eyes. She was a queen and they were the peasants in her kingdom.

 

Daddy’s parents were poor and struggled to survive. He let the system dictate his every move. He knew no other way.

 

In his day, all children of good breeding were right-handed, but not Daddy. This, however, was not acceptable. With head bowed, his teachers brandished a ruler across his knuckles to dissuade him from being a deviant. He tried, but he could not change.

                      

Mommy and Daddy went to two different high schools at opposite ends of the city. However, as fate would have it, their paths crossed one day in early October, as Daddy road his rusted, silver bike down the street through Mommy’s neighborhood.

 

Daddy was sixteen and Mommy fourteen, at the time. As she sat on the front stoop of her two-story brick house, with two other girls by her side, Daddy sped down the middle of the street. As he waved his hand trying to get her attention, he did not look where he was going and crashed into a parked Cadillac. He was quite banged up, but he seemed to have succeeded in getting Mommy’s attention and winning her admiration, as she ran toward him to help. Some believed it was love at first sight.

 

Seven years later, these two lives became forever entwined as they walked down the aisle, with “Here Comes the Bride,” providing the musical backdrop. People applauded as the couple recited their vows and kissed with a passion that all believed would provide the foundation for a long and happy future together. The smiles on their faces made an unforgettable impression on those in attendance. A union made in heaven, they thought.

 

But life does not always work out the way it should. Mommy and Daddy had two children, a boy first and a girl two years later. But these births did not turn out to be a blessing. For blackened skies seemed to place dark shadows on the lives of these children. Adrian, the boy, kept to himself, as distrust welled up inside his head and anger twisted his gut. He had a distorted picture of life and how to deal with the demons that tortured his soul. Evelyn, the girl, flaunted her body in a way that made boys salivate and lust after her. A temptress, she drove them wild.

 

Mommy cringed at the way Evelyn dressed, leaving nothing to the imagination. Time and again the school principal called to tell her that Evelyn’s behavior could no longer be tolerated, but Mommy was powerless to do anything about it. Evelyn frightened her in a way she did not understand. And Daddy ignored the misbehavior of his daughter. He wanted nothing to do with it. In so doing, he alienated Mommy.

 

However, he did try to speak with Adrian, but the door to Adrian’s mind remained closed to Daddy’s efforts. Adrian’s eyes were empty and his heart cold. He did not speak much. And when he did, his anguish frightened Daddy in a way that caused him to tremble. Mommy, too, could not find a way to enter Adrian’s world. The doors remained shut, as he slipped deeper and deeper into himself.

 

The wall between Mommy and Daddy grew larger, forcing them further away from one another. They said little, as they struggled to keep from drowning in an ocean filled with waves of discontent. This family of four drifted into nothingness. Could anything be done to save them? They stayed within themselves and none of them knew how to call for help. A wretched present and the notion of a bleak future haunted them.

 

Then one day, something strange occurred. A vision appeared—one all members of the family could see. A window opened to a sunlit garden filled with beautiful flowers and singing birds. Warmth flooded in touching them in a way they had never experienced before. A rush of hope ran through their tortured minds. They had a chance to escape the living hell that had befallen them. A portal to freedom from the ghosts of their past opened . . . but did they have the strength and courage to travel through it?

 

 

Copyright © 2021 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

During the holiday season, we often take the time to reflect on how we celebrated past Christmases.

 

It’s been twenty-five years since the first Christmas I spent with the lovely woman who would become my wife. I’d like to share the poem I wrote for the occasion, titled . . .

 

 

Our First Christmas

 

It is hard to believe

we are celebrating

our first Christmas together—

the first of many to come.

It is a joy

to decorate

our home,

to create

our Christmas spirit,

and to celebrate

the meaning

of the holiday.

 

I see the pleasure

in your eyes

and the warmth

in your heart.

You make the season

come alive.

You, my lovely redhead,

ignite the spirit

in my soul

and bring joy

to my life.

 

I admire your desire

to include others,

who might otherwise

have spent

the holiday alone,

in the splender

of Christmas day

and the happiness

we have found.

You are a wonderful person

and I am blessed

by your presence

in my life.

 

I wish for us,

years of blissfulness

together,

and for you,

the fulfillment

of all your dreams.

 

Merry Christmas, my darling.

May our love deepen

as the years go by.

 

 

Copyright © 1996 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

Finding solutions to problems can be difficult. Even the simplest ones can become complicated.

 

However, the search may make our sometimes-boring lives more interesting, as we seek an answer to the question . . .

 

 

What’s Inside?

 

I removed my black suitcase from the top shelf of the closet in the bedroom, so I could pack for my holiday trip to Las Vegas. As I placed it on the bed, I could hear something rolling around in it. But I thought I’d emptied it before putting it away after my last trip. I don’t know why I just didn’t open it to see what caused the mysterious rattling I heard, but I didn’t.

 

Strange things ran through my mind. Could I have left my missing six-inch, high-powered flashlight in it—the one that saved me from being lost on the dark road in the mountains I walked down last summer? Or might it be the open bag of pistachios I thought I left at my daughter’s home? I sniffed it to see if an odor permeated the case, but I couldn’t smell anything.

 

My mind jumped from one possibility to the next. The challenge of the guessing game seemed to stimulate my otherwise lethargic brain. “Oh, I know what it is,” I screeched. It’s the locket I bought for Jane. Before I could give it to her, she broke off our relationship. I had to bury the past. And the suitcase was as good a place as any to entomb it.

 

No, it couldn’t be the locket. I found it three weeks after the breakup, under the bedroom dresser where I’d thrown it, after I’d hung up the phone on her. If not the locket, then what? Wait, it’s coming to me. It must be my sunglasses. They went missing after my drive up the coast. I searched the car for hours, but couldn’t find them. I must have put them in the suitcase.

 

By now you must think I’m going crazy . . . that I’ve lost my marbles. Yes, I’ll look in the case. My marbles could be in there. No, I’m not nuts. Just bored. My run of the mill job as manager of the Nature’s Way Grocery Store doesn’t turn me on anymore. I need some excitement in my life. Maybe I’ll rob a bank. That’s it! The thing bouncing around in the case is my gun. I knew I hid it somewhere.

 

However, I don’t even own a gun. But you knew that. Well, time to get packed, so I can get a good night’s sleep. The plane for Vegas leaves at 10:00 am tomorrow. I took hold of “my black bag of mystery’s” zipper. The moment of truth awaited me. A bit nervous, I pulled it around the top of the case and took a deep breath.

 

I began to lift the top up, but then the doorbell rang. It dropped back into place, as I spun around and ran to the door. I turned the handle and pulled it open. Standing before me was a smiling Joe, my travelling companion. He held a black suitcase, identical to mine, in his left hand. “Hey, Gary,” he sputtered. “I started to pack for our trip tomorrow and realized I had your suitcase. We must’ve switched them when we were packing up to come home from our Florida trip. And, by the way, I heard something rattling around inside.”

 

Oh, my God! I’ll be damned, if I have to go down that path again. I took the suitcase from him and placed it next to the door. “Let’s go into the kitchen and have a drink.” We sat at the table and chatted about what we would do in Vegas. After shooting the breeze for about twenty minutes, I excused myself, grabbed “my” suitcase, from where it sat next to the door, and hustled back to the bedroom to make the exchange. Upon returning to the kitchen, I walked Joe, with “his” suitcase in hand, to the door. “See you in the morning,” I chanted.

 

After Joe left, I went back into the bedroom, unzipped my suitcase, and, without hesitation, lifted the top. There to my amazement, I found a small package wrapped in bright yellow and red striped paper. I picked it up with my right hand, moved it to my left, and back to my right again. "What the hell is this?" I muttered. Then I placed it on the bed and stared at it. Well, it’s not going to open itself, I thought. I started to unwrap it, but feared what I might find. Finally, with the paper removed, I took the top off the box.

 

Inside was a silver medallion engraved with the words, “Your future is in my hands.” What's this all about? Then I saw a piece of notepaper that had fallen out of the package onto the floor. I picked it up and read, “Someone’s got to breathe life back into your mundane existence, so it might as well be me. See you tomorrow for our next journey. And, by the way, Merry Christmas.”

 

Wow! I didn’t see that coming. Nice gesture. But it didn’t clear anything up. How did the suitcases become switched in the first place? My nametag was affixed to the handle of mine. And what was rolling around in the other one? This left me more confused than ever—but certainly not bored.

 

 

Copyright © 2021 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

Growing up can be challenging. The road ahead may be bumpy.

 

Sometimes you want to bury your head under your pillow and hide. But 

then you discover . . .

 

 

The Power Of Understanding

 

You are lost and confused—
drowning in a sea

of uncertainty.

You reach out

for a helping hand

to assist you

in seeing the future,

now blurred

by the fear

welling up within.

A soft voice

permeates

your dark world

urging you

to remain calm,

for there is hope

of a better existence—

one where clouds part

and the sun peeks through.

 

The desolate landscape
between the regions

of understanding

in your mind

are more

than you

can handle alone.

You have just entered

adulthood,

and wish to climb

the ladder of success.

But the distance

between rungs

gets wider

as you ascend,

and you begin

to fear

what will happen

if you fall.

 

Life is a constant struggle.

At times, it seems

as if you are riding

a bus to nowhere.

You think

the bewilderment

will never stop.
The other passengers

make you feel

you owe them something—

that you must be there

for them.

You stare

out the window,

knowing this

is not possible,

for you are unable

to be there for yourself.

 

 “Grasp my hand,”

the voice instructs.
“Talk to me.

Share your insecurities.

Let me assist you

in mapping out

a road to understanding—

one that makes sense.
Release your demons.

Let me help you

better understand, ‘You,’

and open your eyes

to a brighter future ahead.

 

 

Copyright © 2021 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

Strange things happen in life we can’t explain. Sometimes they trigger a passion within us.

 

Others can become entangled in this web of desire, as you will see in . . .

 

 

I Met You Before I Was Born

 

I met you before I was born.
I know that sounds strange.

 

You say that couldn’t be.
But how do you know?

 

No, I’m not lying to you.

I embraced the thought of you,

     as I prepared to leave my mother’s womb.

 

No, I’m not crazy.

Now you appear in my dreams,

     night after night.

 

Yes, I’ve known you forever.

You belong to me.

 

You are mine and I am yours.

We are destined to travel life’s road together.

 

It’s not your choice to turn your back on me.

We are meant to be partners—two souls blended as one.

 

I've been longing for you from the time we met.
And now, forever more, we shall share a life of devotion

     to one another.

 

You say this cannot be.

But I gave you my heart and expect yours in return.

 

I met you before I was born.
Please believe we were meant to be.

 

 

Copyright © 2021 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

The burdens of building a life together are many. Sometimes trying to confront them can be overwhelming.

 

The distance between you and your loved one can widen. So much so, you dread what might have to be done as you pass from day . . .

 

 

Into The Blackness Of Night

 

Until tonight,

I had no idea

what was happening.

Nothing

made any sense.

I followed

a path

that confused me.

Memories

of our time together

flooded my mind.

Pictures

of our world,

now in disarray,

haunted me.

 

This was our life,

yours and mine—

first blessed,

now cursed.

Why did I think

I didn’t matter

anymore?

Did I ask

too much of you?

 

You agreed

to meet me

at the gorgeous

Brockhurst Inn

on the coast,

for what I hoped

would be

a romantic evening.

The ocean’s waters,

crashing against the rocks,

could be heard

through the open window

of our eighth floor

hotel room.

 

But why

was it open?

Frost

covered the glass.

Shivering,

I embraced you,

but you

pushed me away.

 

Anger

welled up within me,

for the disrespect

you showed.

I thought,

This must be

what people mean

when they say,

“I could die now.”

 

We’re so much closer

to death

than you

might think.

But whose?

Not mine.

 

I stood

facing

the open window,

quivering

from the damp air?

I had to do it.

It wasn’t my choice.

The pain

in my gut

caused me

to flinch,

and the ache

in my heart

told me

it was my right

to set this straight.

 

You deceived me,

led me astray.  

I tried

to stay afloat

In the bitter waters

of our relationship.

I still wanted you

and wanted us,

but knew

it couldn’t happen.

 

The scent

of your hair

triggered the passion

in my heart.

However, knowing

I would never again

feel your kisses

on my lips,

I wrapped

my fingers

around your throat,

and pushed you

through the open window

into the blackness

of night

and the sea below.

 

Well, that’s what

I intended to do,

but I didn’t.

Without saying a word,

you left the room.

I crawled into bed,

pulled the pillow

over my head,

and begged God

for forgiveness

for the sin

I almost committed.

 

 

Copyright © 2021 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

Pressure is put upon us to become the finest person we are capable of being. We are urged to work hard in school, sports, social endeavors, and other activities in which we engage, as we grow up.

 

We do our best to live up to our own expectations and those of others. We may even think about . . .

 

 

Becoming A Pro

 

When I entered high school, Dad told me, “If you want to be a pro  

       in a profession, you have to try hard and you can’t put things off.”

“But Dad, I’m already good at not doing what I should and my friends call    

       me a procrastinator,” I would scoff.

 

“Jason, that attitude is not going to get you anywhere. You have to practice, 

       polish your skills, and become proficient at what you do.”

“I do nothing better than anybody I know, so doesn’t that indicate I’m

       proficient to you.”

 

“You’re not paying attention to what I’m saying. I want you to produce and become 

       a man of great repute.”

“I picked up the produce—zucchini, asparagus, and lettuce—Mom wanted 

       from the market yesterday, an accomplishment you can’t dispute.

 

“And you know I’ll eat the greatest proportion of the food on the table at dinner

       tonight.

“So I profess to you, I leave nothing to chance, and try as I might to do everything 

       right.”

 

“I’m getting frustrated with your inability to process what I’m saying,” Dad said,  

       in a way that worried me.

“You need to pay me the respect I deserve. I’m just trying to help you plan

       for a future of prominence and prosperity.”

 

“I can’t think that far ahead. I’m only a sophomore in high school looking forward

       to being promoted to the next grade.”

“Life progresses all too fast, and if you can’t stay on track,” Dad stated, “You’ll slip 

       off the road to success, I’m afraid.”

 

“Road to success? I just want to get a date for the homecoming dance,” I  

       proclaimed, in a loud voice.

Then Dad surprised me with his pronouncement, “A redhead with long flowing hair 

       would be my choice.”

 

 

Copyright © 2021 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.