Truth or Fiction Thursday – The Cleaner

The first day on her new job, Sharon was joined by her officemate, Marisol. A Spanish beauty, Marisol swept into the office bringing with her the scent of warm, ripe cherries. She wore bright colors and hummed a tune, at least, until Sharon caught her eye.

“You’re new,” her voice a questionable lilt with a hint of accent.

“Sharon McMurtry,” she extended her hand shyly. “And yes, I am new.”

Marisol was gracious and took her hand. She seemed cautious, guarded. After a second rise and fall of their dainty hands, Marisol jerked her hand away from Sharon, “You’re not alone?”

Sharon shrugged her shoulders, looked around the room, and then looked back at Marisol, “Huh?”

Marisol retreated quickly, like if she remained close to Sharon much longer she might fade into the fluorescent light of their office never to be seen again.

“I’m sorry,” Sharon said, “did I say something wrong?”

Marisol didn’t say anything. She glanced over her shoulder at Sharon as she left what would be their office.

What the hell did I do? Sharon was upset by Marisol’s reaction. She had hoped more than anything to make fast friends and find some distraction from her current circumstances. Disappointed, she sat at her desk and started reading through the stack of orientation paperwork that had to be completed before she could officially begin work.

Sharon was lost in the red tape and didn’t bother to look up from her paperwork until she sensed someone walked into the office. Thinking it was Marisol, Sharon said in a flipant tone without looking up to verify, “So, I’m so bad I chased you right out of here?”

When there was no reply, she looked up and met eyes with a tall, thin, redhead. She would be beautiful if it weren’t for the stark contrast between her bright auburn hair and her pale, almost translucent skin. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Sharon smiled. “I thought you were Marisol. I’m Sharon.”

The young woman returned Sharon’s smile, “Candice. You’re new.”

“People keep pointing that out.”

Candice looked at her shoes, “It’s obvious, you know.”

“No. I guess I don’t,” she said trying to avert her attention back to the papers in front of her.

“Marisol is scared to come back in here.”

Disturbed by the notion that someone was afraid to be around her, Sharon couldn’t help but question, “Why? What the hell did I do to her?”

“Oh, please don’t misunderstand, Sharon. You’re new.”

“I know!” she barked. “And what exactly does that have to do with the price of tea in China?”

“You’re not clean,” Candice responded, the corner of her mouth turning up in a grin. “Yet.”

“Candice, I don’t mean to be rude, but what the exactly does that mean?”

“Marisol is a medium. The reason she won’t come back in here is because someone is attached to you. You’re not alone.”

“What?” Sharon couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Attached to me? Not alone? What is wrong with you people?”

Candice twitched at Sharon's latest insult, “Look Sharon, it’s not us with the problem. It’s not us who Marisol is afraid to be around. It’s you!”

“But why?” she said a little softer, frustrated tears welling up in her eyes.

“All she told me was that there is someone very dark attached to you and until he was gone she couldn’t be in the same space.”

“He?”

“Yes, the presence is male.”

“Are you clairvoyant too?” Sharon couldn’t help but ask.

“I am.”

“And,” she hesitated, “why aren’t you afraid?”

“Because I’m the cleaner.”

Sharon took one step back and tripped on the caster foot of her tall, black office chair, forcing her to fall into the seat.

It’s your turn. Dare to finish the story. What are Sharon’s “circumstances”? What happened next? She’s having a bad enough first day, what could happen, right? Do she and Marisol end up sharing an office? Does she emerge clean? Who is the “he” attached to her?

Until tomorrow, I look forward to hearing your creative ideas and remain a medium, or not a medium (it’s truth or fiction day after all) and Unstoppable.

Sylvia’s Roses – The Reveal

Sylvia’s eyes filled with tears as she read the words printed in pencil on the tiny sliver of sack paper:

My sweet Sylvia,

As the sun sets on next summer’s long hours, I respectfully request that you consider becoming my bride. I promise to love you with all my heart, forever and ever. I already talked to your Daddy and he was pleased. Sylvia, won’t you be mine?

All my love,
Elmer

My great aunt and uncle inspired this story with their sixty-plus year marriage. Not only were they the model of abiding love, they always seemed to like one another; they were friends. I can only hope one day to find a love so true and blessed.

Until Monday, I remain hopeful and Unstoppable.

Truth or Fiction Thursday - Sylvia's Roses

Sylvia stood at the intersection of her parent’s driveway and the dirt road that ran between her home and the expanse of field where her family raised vegetables in Laurens County, Georgia. The mid-summer view of the farm filled Sylvia with thoughts of busy farm hands and late afternoon jaunts out to offer up her mother’s lemonade for their hard work. It was her favorite part of every day because of one boy – Elmer.

Elmer was tall and thin, handsome with dark hair and striking green eyes. He had worked her parent’s farm since he was thirteen. At the beginning and end of each season and often in between, he brought Sylvia a rose.

Standing near the worn white mailbox at the road's edge, Sylvia could hear the roar of an engine coming closer to her. She took two steps back away from the road and waited for the vehicle to pass. It was a truck full of farm workers coming in from town and hanging off the back of the truck, making eyes at Sylvia, was Elmer. Like a typical seventeen year old boy he hooted and hollered his greeting to her. Then all at once he tossed a beautiful pink rose in her direction. It was no secret that the two teenagers were in love.

Sylvia waited a moment for the dust to settle before stepping out into the road to pick up the flower. She shook off the dirt that had come to rest on it then inhaled its fragrant scent. She loved roses, especially the wild ones that Elmer picked for her because they smelled the sweetest. On the beautiful wildflower Elmer had tied a small note with thin brown twine.

Now, it’s time for you to join the conversation. What do you think the note said? Did this really happen in 1920s Laurens County, Georgia or is it fiction?

I hope you enjoy today’s little romantic mystery. Until tomorrow’s reveal I remain Unstoppable.

Thursday's Paranormal File - The End of the Story

I (aka Lucy) grew up in a subdivision that was constructed atop Healy Plantation just north of Macon, Georgia. Active during the Civil War, the remnants of the plantation offer plenty of history to inspire one's imagination. The subdivision is riddled with graves, both marked and unmarked, and is known to experience odd paranormal activity. The snake and the stallion, though strangely romantic, did appear to me in just this way. And the whisper, well, that is wholly true as well. Not scary, but very real.

I have always believed in life beyond what we know. Though I have a hard time wanting to believe it is something tortured or gruesome, I do feel that it exists. Owning this belief is what drives me to be a storyteller of the Southern derivation.

Tanya Michaels (Michna) challenged us in a workshop not too long ago to call out our "voice" in three words. When I think about those words, ghost stories come to mind. They are part of who I am and what I want to share. So, be it a romance or a mystery, somewhere there will always be entwined a ghoul or two.

Until Monday, I remain Unstoppable.