what is possible? – a poem

as the sea threatens

to take me away again,

my first thought is

“i didn’t ask for this.”

as the waters grow deeper,

i have to remember

that none of this is my fault,

that the disease

which ravages my

internal world is not

something i asked for,

nor is it something that

i can control.

much like the waters

which threaten to overtake me,

there is no way

i will know the path

that my disease,

the shadowy spectre

of multiple sclerosis,

takes me on.

all i can do

is take each step

one at a time

so that I can scale

each mountain that

blocks my path

and keep my head

above the waters

that threaten to

swallow me completely.

as I walk along

each mountain, each cliff edge,

i let go of the sea

within myself

so that it cascades

down the rockface

like a waterfall,

stretching its fingers

behind me, even as I

walk forwards

towards what

is possible.

what other things? – a poem

carry that tarnished

piece of metal,

the penny which

contained a wish.

a piece of paper

with the words “…love is…”

written upon it,

kept like a spell

hidden inside a book.

the book itself,

a talisman against

the mundane,

its stories read so many times

that pages are beginning

to fall away from its spine.

magic can be so simple,

a mere thought

or significance given

to ordinary objects,

yet they shine

because we think they do,

proof that humans

are capable of

everyday magics and

acts of the extra ordinary.

What other things

shine like stars in your pockets?

I am the Storm – A Poem

My body contains the storm.

The rivers rage against the

rocky barrier of my skin.

Even as I try to remain upright,

water wants to push me down

to the ground so that

it can resume its rightful path.

The waters pull my body

every which way,

making my limbs

feel heavy and misshapen.

I try to walk and I can hear

the waves making the storm

I carry within me grow louder,

until all I can hear is the roar.

Eventually, all I can do

is given in to the pull of the waters,

the almost seductive lull.

By then, they have pulled me under

and I do everything I can

to escape their pull.

When I am lying down in the rapids,

I can look up and see the sun

and it’s the sun that lets me know

that I can swim.

I use its light to guide me

and soon, I am able

to see the rocks in front of me,

offering salvation from the water.

Sitting upon them,

I can still hear the waters

that move and sing inside of me.

I know that I will dance again,

that there is no way

I can let go of the water.

For now,

I listen to the waves

and I can feel the brightness

of the sun.

The Procedure – A Flash Fiction Story

I approached the glass window.

The man on the other side reminded me of the guard to the land of Oz. I wondered briefly if he would say anything about a horse of a different colour. That’s what I was hoping for anyways. The man smiled at me, and it looked genuine.

“Hello there! Can I see some identification? Just a licence or a photo ID card will do, nothing fancy.”

I showed him my photo ID and he made a few notes in his computer, entering my name and statistics like height, eye colour, hair colour, etc. Then he held up a scanner. “Now I want you to remain perfectly still for me, this won’t take but a minute.”

“Why are you scanning me?” I kept the fear from my voice even if I couldn’t stop the worry from sounding so evident.

The man, his gold name tag said that his name was Clive, gave me a brilliant smile that showed all of his teeth but didn’t look threatening. “This is just so we can set a baseline. We need to know how much space there is within you before we give you anything back. You are aware of how the procedure works?”

“Yes,” I said. I had been reading nothing but medical journals for a few days now.

“Perfect. The doctor will look over the information that we collect today and then she will know how to proceed tomorrow and what kind of procedure you will need.”

“All right,” I said. I knew that I would have to come back at lest once. Occasionally, she wasn’t successful the first time around and it needed other treatments. I was hopeful for mine. “That’s fine.”

“Perfect. Just remain still for me and keep your eyes open. Try not to blink.”

“Why do you scan the eyes?” I asked. That was the one piece of information that I couldn’t find from reading the medical journals.

Clive gave me another brilliant smile. “The eyes tell the language of the heart. Did you know that you can tell a lot about how a person loves by looking into their eyes? They can tell us stories that not even the skin can recall.” He held up the scanner.

It looked like a scanner used in grocery stores, but I knew that it was a different kind. It knew that it saw deeper than any scanner at Walmart could. The medical journals said that it scanned your soul. I hoped that it would need to, that I would be allowed to have the procedure.

That evening, I wondered what the next day would bring. Would I be successful? And if I was, what would I do with all my newfound memories? Would they leave me changed or would I still be myself, but somehow more? Just like the medical journals not saying why they had to scan your eyes, they also did not specify what it felt like to have everything put back inside of you. How did a person live with what they had lost? The success rates were high, almost 100%, but there was that one percent of people that couldn’t handle it. How did you go from feeling nothing to feeling everything? It sometimes proved to be too much.

When I returned to the office the next day, Clive was there behind the glass. I wondered if he ever went home. He waved when he saw me. “You’re in luck! You’ve been cleared for the procedure! The doctor is waiting for you.” His smile widened. “In fact, here she is!”

I turned around and there she was. She was even more stunning than the magazine pictures. She came towards me, giving me a soft smile. “Jamieson, I’m so happy to see you, come in come in.” She held open the door to her office and I stepped inside.

The room was filled with soft blue light. She motioned for me to sit in a high-backed chair, and she took the other one across from me. “I’m so happy that you came to me, Jamieson.” Her smile was blinding but kind. “It’s not often that I get many patients with your potential.”

She started setting up a contraption that reminded me a lot of a tool that ophthalmologists used when they are testing your eyes. There was a chin rest and a soft pulsing light that shone that would shine in my eyes. I had read about the procedure in countless magazines.

“So, that’s what will make this all work?” I asked.

She smiled and the blue light shone off of her teeth. “That’s what will help your heart grow again.”

I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

“Well, you gave so much of your heart away in previous relationships. They took and took pieces of your heart but didn’t give anything back. This procedure will rectify that.”

I nodded as if this all made sense. “Why the colour blue?” I asked. This was all I could think of. I had so many questions, but this was the one that came to the surface first.

The doctor gave me a kind smile that was less blinding than before and I found it very reassuring. She reached out and took my hand. “Blue is the colour of love, and of human emotion. It’s also the colour of your spirit, Jamieson. This will help heal your heart and your spirit will make sure to help you on this journey. You have so much empty space in your heart because you gave so much of it away. Do you want it back?”

I nodded and she gave me another kind smile. “Just put your chin here,” she said.

I did so and she turned on some calming music that immediately soothed me. She pressed another button and the blue light in front of me became brighter. As my body began to expand, I wondered if I had done the right thing coming here.

A Cozy Christmas at Bridge’s Bicycle Bakery by Alex Brown – A Book Review

Bridget is trying to hold it together.

After her husband Ted’s sudden passing, Bridget and her children Oscar, Olly and Freya are trying to cope without Ted in their lives. They have moved back to Mulberry-On-Sea for a change of pace and scenery but also because they really had no choice. Unable to afford their house after Ted’s passing, Bridget has moved everyone and everything they have back to the seaside cottage that used to be their summer getaway. It’s now become their home.

Bridget has fond memories of Mulberry-On-Sea and Carrington’s department store but hopes that the children will make their own memories here. Right now, Bridget is mainly concerned with making sure the children have a wonderful Christmas. It’s been a year since Ted died and their lives changed. She figures giving them kids a Christmas they can remember is one of the best ways to get some normalcy in their lives.

One of the ways that Bridget finds that normalcy is through baking. She finds the mixing of ingredients, the rising of bread, the smells that fill their new home very healing. It’s her way of establishing some sort of balance within her life. Baking always reminds her of home and the smells remind her of childhood. Baking is joy to Bridget.

A chance meeting with Jack, the barman at The Hook, Line & Sinker pub, brings further changes into her life. He is a complication that Bridget doesn’t need. He seems rude at first, but over time something between them starts to grow. Can she let him in to her life and her heart? Or will she be content with the memory of Ted?

Thankfully, this it’s almost Christmas and something magical always happens during the Holidays…

Once again, Alex Brown has written a compelling and heartfelt novel that left me with a feeling of the upmost joy. She has a way of writing characters that go beyond the page. By the end of the book, the people that fill A Cozy Christmas at Bridge’s Bicycle Bakery became friends and people that I know.

It was such a pleasure to see Georgie, Sam and Eddie, favourite characters of mine from the previous Carrington books, make a guest appearance in this book. It felt like a reunion and one that I was happy to be a part of.

Brown has a way of writing a book that goes beyond what I think of as women’s fiction. Despite my brief plot summary, this novel wasn’t just about a woman finding a new love in her life. This was about Bridget’s quest to find herself again in a life that has become unfamiliar without the man that she loved so completely. Throughout the book, Bridget takes steps to start a new life for herself and her children and the novel is all about her journey.

It seems that every time a new book by Alex Brown comes out, there is some part of me that needs some kind of healing. Much like Bridget, I’m trying to find my footing in a life that has become unfamiliar to me. As Bridget found her way towards her new self, something within me healed and as Bridget found joy, I felt that joy within myself begin to grow. Alex Brown writes novels that are so filled with joy that you can’t help but find yourself changed by them in some way.

A brilliant book with wonderful characters, a fabulous and heartfelt story and a little bit of Christmas magic, A Cozy Christmas at Bridge’s Bicycle Bakery is a true joy. I can’t wait to read it all over again.