Awesome Interview with Bailey Gee!

Welcome! 

Bailey Gee, a wonderful author and mental health advocate, took the time to sit down with me and answer some questions I had about her Amazon bestseller: The Many Personalities of Me and her new book, Not Another Poetry Book, Just Kidding. I am so pleased to have her as a friend and I am proud to share this interview with you all. 

What made you want to write Not Another Poetry Book, Just Kidding?

    I wanted to write this book for a few reasons. I had so many poems that I've collected over the years, and I had always wanted to put them into a book. My number one intention was always to help people. Whether it helps someone feel understood, or helps someone in any other way. I just want people who experience mental health challenges to know, its okay, and it will be okay. Those who don’t have mental health challenges, hopefully it gives them a look into my mind, or nonetheless the mind of a person with depression. Maybe people will be a lot kinder.

How long did it take to finish this book?

    Not long at all actually. I had the poems already written from back in my teen years, so I collected them for years with the intention of starting a book. It took me a few months from start to finish, to put the poems in order, formatting etc. Not to mention I wrote the entire book on my cellphone, because I didn’t have a computer at the time.

Do you think that this book helped with your depression?

    I look back sometimes and read the book, and I think, “Wow, I really felt that?" I think the book has given me some sense of calm and closure. I've finally been able to express everything that I've ever wanted to.

Did having depression make writing this book difficult?

    Well, actually depression made it quite easy to write the book. I mean, if I didn’t have depression, I wouldn’t have written the poetry to put into the book. Writing each individual poem, was quite different. Each poem is from a different experience and there are so many feelings attached to each one.

What would you like to accomplish with this book?

    My goal in writing this book was to make others who go through any mental illness, bullying, disability etc. feel less alone; feel like they are understood. Maybe those who are afraid to speak up about how they feel, maybe this book would help give them courage and let them know, its okay to not be okay. Emotions are human, and its okay to express them.

What would ‘a letter to my readers’ say?

    A letter to my readers: Thank you for making this possible. I hope I have made you proud. I'm here for you - Bailey

Did you share this book with your family?

    I did share my book with my family, and the idea beforehand. I'll say they weren't all that thrilled with the idea of me putting myself out there and making myself vulnerable. However, I think they’ve managed to change their minds, and now they're pretty proud of me.

What did you learn about yourself while writing this book?

    I learned so much about myself. I learned that I have grown and healed from things I never thought I would. That’s the message I want to convey.

How did you pick the title?

    Its an interesting story; how I picked the title. Obviously, readers will know that I struggle with mental illness. So I tuned into aspects of my illnesses and pictured them as different personalities fighting each other. There you have The Many Personalities of Me. My second book, Not Another Poetry Book, Just Kidding, I was just trying to be funny.

What’s your favorite part of this book?

    I think my favorite part of this book is the acknowledgements. I finally get to thank those who have played a vital role in helping to get my mental health back on track; that’s pretty awesome.

Where can readers purchase your books?

    Readers can purchase my books, The Many Personalities of Me and Not Another Poetry Book, Just Kidding,  on Amazon, Goodreads, Kobo, Barnes and Noble, Apple, Audible, and more.

Thank you so very much, Bailey! I can definitely see this book doing as well as your first one! Now let's get to some more personal questions. 

What do you do when you aren’t writing?

    Honestly, when I'm not writing, I'm promoting both of my books. I'm trying to get them into libraries, schools, and trying to get interviews. I eat, sleep, and breathe my book. I don’t stop.

Have you ever experienced writer’s block?

    I don’t believe in writer's block. When I'm stuck, I write about how I don’t know what to write about.

Can you describe your writing space?

    My writing space is my bed. I just sit on my bed with a notebook and paper, and write. Nothing fancy.

Do you listen to music or have any background noise when you write?

    No. I can't listen to music while I write, actually, because I've found that I end up writing the lyrics that I'm hearing instead of what I had intended to write.

What is your all-time favorite book?

    The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. It gets me every time.

What are you reading now?

    I am reading Before We Were Yours by Lisa Wingate. 

Do you have a favorite quote?

    "Happiness is not by chance, but by choice," ~Jim Rohn 

Can you share something that your readers wouldn’t know?

    I think the fact that I wrote the entire book from start to finish on my phone, is something that not many know.

What did you want to be when you grew up?

    When I was little I knew in my heart that I was going to be a writer.

Do you have a hero?

    My hero is a nurse named Freja; a wonderful human who I aspire to be like in every way.

Can you describe yourself in three words?

    Determined, stubborn, and kind.

How about a fun either/or section?

Tea or Coffee?

    COFFEE

Hot or Cold?

    Hot

Movie or Book?

    Book

Morning person or Night owl?

    Morning person

City or Country?

    Ouu that’s hard. I like things about both. But I'm going to say country.

Do you have any tips for aspiring authors? 

    I would tell aspiring authors that the second that you put that pen to paper, you're an author. Whether you ever get published or not, you’ve written something amazingly wonderful, and you should be proud.

And finally, do we have any other books from you to look forward to?

    Actually, I am working on my third book as we speak.

I am looking forward to that! Thank you again, Bailey. I am so glad to have had this time with you! 

Readers, I hope you enjoyed this interview. Make sure you pick up a copy of Not Another Poetry Book, Just Kidding and grab a copy of The Many Personalities of Me if you haven't already!

You Are Important

    Today, I had the pleasure of attending an open house at a boudoir studio of a good friend. I had such a wonderful time. What I noticed the most was that we talked a lot about how important it is to take care of yourself. Today, I was reminded that even though I felt alone when I struggled with my own worth, I wasn't alone at all. Today, I was reminded that a lot of us are going through our lives, realizing that we need to take better care of ourselves. It was so empowering! We have to fight for ourselves!

    I think sometimes we lose ourselves because we end up putting everyone else's needs before our own. Then one day, we're burnt out and have no idea why.

    I can honestly say that for many, many years, I always put myself dead last. I put everyone I loved before me and by the end of the day, I had nothing left for me. For most of my life, I didn't take care of me at all. I didn't fight for me, and when I did, I got labeled as selfish.

    When I woke up and realized I needed more from me, I needed to help myself, I needed to fight for everything I deserved, it was SO DIFFICULT!! For the first year of deciding that I deserved more, I was just faking it. I faked a smile, and I hid the guilt. I'm not a selfish person, but now I was trying to be selfish for me. I'm not saying I stopped taking care of my family, but I made me a priority too. I cannot tell you how much I struggled during that time. I had to keep reminding myself that I deserved it.

    What's so amazing about this is, I look healthier. After I fought for me, I look happier; I'm not faking it anymore. You can come out on the other side of this being a better you. For me, that meant taking time to finish my novel (it's getting published soon) and starting a blog that has stories on it and also posts about my struggles through this.

    I will always be the woman that helps elevate you. I will always be the woman that sees you struggling and fighting for you, and hugs you. I will hold your hand and help you be strong. I will be the voice in your head that reminds you that you deserve more. I mean it, you deserve more and you deserve to be a priority. If you need help or support, or you need to reach out so you don't feel so alone, please do!

    I have a lot of ways that I can be reached. But please remember that you are important and you always deserve to be a priority.

To Be Seen or Not To Be Seen

    When you grow up thinking you are less than anyone and everyone around you, it makes you think less of yourself by default. I spent over three decades "knowing" that I was less than literally everyone that would ever come into my life. I was taught to be smaller, change for others, do for everyone before me. It's not a pleasant life.

    I'm not sure if not knowing that and finding out later is better than knowing that was wrong the whole time. Maybe ignorance really is bliss? Either way, I found out. And I'm angry! I'm angry at the people in my life that were supposed to love me but couldn't do so unless it benefitted them. I'm angry at the people that helped make the "love" seem okay. I'm angry at me for just letting it happen.

    One of the hardest things about this journey that I'm now on is that I don't have an 'old me' to go back to. It's not like I used to be strong and then I was weakened. I was always their doormat. I was always less. So now I have to reinvent myself entirely. I have to recreate the whole of me into something that I never was but always should have been. How? Where do I begin? Most of the time, this journey, this choosing me, it makes me feel like an imposter. I feel like I'm faking being the strong one and at any minute, I'm going to get found out. I'm going to get knocked down off the ladder I'm trying to scramble up and land back down on the ground as the doormat I have always been.

    During my younger years, I figured out one of many survival tactics was to just remain unseen. If I made myself invisible, less damage would ensue. I made myself smaller and quieter. I made myself into nothing. I didn't strive for things, I didn't chase my dreams, I survived and did so quietly. One of my biggest regrets that came out of living like that for so long is letting go of my dream to become an author. You can read more about that here. I could have been an author years ago. I could have had a couple of books under me by now.

    It's been almost a year and a half since I 'woke up' and realized I needed to demand more for myself. I needed to be stronger and more selfish. I needed to put my health, mental and physical, up at the top of the priorities list instead of dead last. I did that. I'm still doing it. It's hard, but you know what?!? I am achieving my goal.

ON APRIL 5TH, I OFFICIALLY BECAME A SIGNED AUTHOR!!!

    Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, haters!!!! I got a badass, three-year contract with a wonderful publisher! I will be published within six months. That long-ass manuscript that I was ready to give up on?? It's being published! I have my own author website on my publisher's website. I'm up there for anyone and everyone to see. It even says 'author' under my name! Check it out!!

    I'm still in shock about the whole ordeal and I think that is part of the residual garbage that I grew up with. Over the last year and a half, I have had the pleasure of people telling me that those awful family members have said things like, "I wish I just didn't have to see her name pop up on social media" and "Stop forcing me to see her face online." It hurt me at the time and I have blocked them since but you know what's fun? Pretty soon, my name will be plastered all over the internet, on books, on amazon and in bookstores and they can't do anything about it. They won't be able to get away from it. I get a lot of satisfaction thinking that one day they will be walking into a bookstore and possibly see my name on a book and that it will throw them for a loop. Is that awful of me? Maybe, but I can't feel bad about my own success. I rid myself of the hate. I rose above what they told me I could be. I accomplished some serious hard shit without them; in spite of what they said or did. And part of me hopes it hurts when they look at my smiling face on the inside flap of a beautiful hardback book written solely by me, cuz now, I want to be seen!

Into the Forest (Flash Fiction pt. 2/2)

    Eventually, I reach what I’ve been walking towards. The trees thin out and open up to a large, oval clearing. In the center is an oversized, mammoth of a tree. Somehow, I’ve always known that this tree is older and wiser than the other trees in the forest. It is the wise, old grandmother among the village that surrounds it. Although the tree is old, it stands tall and straight, a beacon of hope. A perfect statue for all other trees to measure themselves against.

    When I step into the clearing, the forest goes quiet. There is a silence about everything, a stillness in the air; but not an eerie one. As I walk toward the old tree, the calming silence wraps tightly around me like a warm blanket. My cheeks are long dried from my tears. I reach out and touch the wide trunk of the tree with my fingertips like I had so many times before.

    “Hello, you,” I whisper. I wrap my arms around the tree tightly, my fingertips not even reaching halfway around. As I close my eyes, I can almost feel the tree wanting to hug me back; I smile again. I turn around and slide down to the ground, leaning up against the tree. I open my notebook and start reading through my words. I can’t figure out where the story seemed so wrong in her eyes. As I flip through the pages, I notice that they are shimmering in the forest light. I flip through the pages faster; my thumb pulling on the edges of the sparkling paper. As the story streams by, I notice that some of the words are written in glittery ink instead of written in the black ink I used.

    I glance up from my notebook and look around the clearing. Everything is just as it was when I sat down and I am still surrounded in my blanket of silence. I turn back to the first page and flip through my notebook again. The glittery words are dancing and jumping about like they have a mind of their own. I am mesmerized by the magic of my own words. I stop flipping through my notebook and open it fully on my lap. How can this be?

    I watch as the page transforms before my eyes. At the top, the first letter grows in size and swirls around to form a large, beautiful, calligraphy-styled letter. Some of the words written in glitter change to different words entirely. A few of them just stay written in the beautiful glitter ink. I turn to the next page and most of the changes have already happened. I flip faster and faster, catching the words dance and change. My heart is pounding quickly as I’m filled with excitement.

    When I close my notebook in awe, the silence is broken. Somewhere in the clearing surrounding me, I hear the forest speak to me. She says, “You are only just beginning.” A chill runs up my spine but the tree makes me feel safe. The notebook on my lap starts to change even more drastically than the words inside of it. A suede binding wraps around the front and the back, transforming the entirety of the flimsy notebook into a beautifully bound book right in front of me. I rub my hands across the front cover in complete awe. The title appears across the front in bold, stamped letters. Then right in the bottom corner of the book my name appears, in beautiful script.

    I turn the book over and over in my hands, unable to believe what just happened. This book looks more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. I have my own finished novel, something that I have always dreamed of. Inside the first page the name of someone that lives in The Common is listed as the printer. I close the book, my book, again and squeeze it tightly to my chest. Somehow I know with all that I am, that all I have to do is take this book to the printer and he will make more copies.

    “Thank you,” I say to the tree, and the forest. “Thank you so much.” A warm breeze swirls around me, ruffling my hair and making me smile. I don’t want to leave the safety of this place but I know that I have to. I have been given a gift from the forest herself, and I won’t waste it.  

Into the Forest (Flash Fiction pt. 1/2)

    I handed my notebook to her with my hands shaking and butterflies in my stomach. It was the very first work in progress that I had ever created and giving it over was nerve wracking. I had the nerve to do so then. I had the nerve to think that I had what it took to create a story and run with it; make something of it. Maybe even make something of myself. I wanted nothing more in life.

    Being an author was a huge dream of mine. It was a dream that took up all of my thoughts, every day. I have spent my life reading. For as long as I can remember, I have loved to curl up in the tiny bay window in the living room with a good book. It wasn’t long before I was reading books way above the ones suggested for my age range. I was reading books that some adults would have found hard to read; but I couldn’t get enough of them. I filled my time with fantasy worlds made up by other authors.

    I watched her face as she skimmed through my handwritten novella. Her face spoke volumes well before her mouth ever did. I had watched her face because I was nervous, and as her face scrunched, I knew she did not approve. She wasn’t going to have a single good thing to say about any of it. I could see in her face as she read though my words that she didn’t have a care in the world for all the time I had taken to write down every word by hand. I could see that she wasn’t going to acknowledge anything from my work because she didn’t approve of any of it.

    After reading several pages, she closed my notebook and thrust it back into my hands. The look on her face spoke volumes again as she said, “I don’t even know why you wrote this. Don’t quit your day job.” I didn’t have a job, teenagers in The Common weren’t allowed to work until after they finished high school. I tried to hide the tears that were welling up in my eyes. I blinked rapidly, trying to force them away but they betrayed me. As a tear slid down my cheek, I wiped at it furiously, but she saw. “Don’t be such a crybaby,” she said as she spun on her heel and walked out of the room.

    I couldn’t get away from the little shack that I shared with her fast enough. My legs couldn’t carry me away from the pain that was burning through my heart. I ran as fast as I could, making it halfway across the small, scraggly bit of front yard before I heard the screen door slam shut. I didn’t wipe my tears anymore. My cheeks were streaked with them as I ran, the wind was cool on my face. I ran straight for the forest; straight for my haven.

    When I reached the edge of the forest, I didn’t bother to slow down. I knew the trail better than I knew any other bit of land around here. The forest has been my escape for as long as I can remember. As I weave through the trees, my feet remember where to go. They carry me further and deeper into the forest until the trees are growing so close together that I can’t run at full speed anymore. As I slow, my breathing gets ragged and I can hear the blood pumping in my ears. I stop and lean up against the closest tree trunk, trying to catch my breath. As I inhale deeply, I can smell the warm and wet earth all around me. The smell calms me as it fills not only my lungs but my soul. I lift my head and stare at the canopy above. It seems to envelope me; protecting me from everything outside of this forest. My haven surrounds me like a cocoon and I feel safe. Nothing can hurt me here.

    I wander slowly further into the forest. Everything here is green, fresh and welcoming. The old leaves crinkle under my feet with each step. I weave in between trees, making my way further towards the big opening that I know is ahead of me. I can hear the tiny little creatures scurrying around along the forest floor. Being here makes me smile.

Beautiful Winter (Flash Fiction pt. 2/2)

    One day during lunch, Mark and I walked hand in hand around the outside of the greenhouse while we finished our sandwiches. I stopped, dead in my tracks, when I spotted a rogue dandelion popping up through the hard terrain.

    “Mark,” I whispered, my voice full of fear as I pointed at the bright yellow weed.

    “Shh,” he whispered back and turned us around as if we could run from spring itself. We quick-stepped back toward the doors of the greenhouse, only stopping when we were standing in the safety of a snow patch once again. “Addy,” he pleaded, still whispering while holding my face in his hands. “I know we only have days left together.” I tried to shake my head, not ready to accept that the next nine months would be without him. I couldn’t move against his hands though, Mark held me tightly, forcing me to listen to him.

    “I don’t want to be without you,” I said as a tear ran silently down my cheek. Mark kissed my lips fully.

    “I can’t be without you,” he said. “My family can’t afford for me to move out right now, but I’m going to find a way. I promise,” he said and kissed me again. “I will figure something out.”

    “Okay,” I whispered as another tear streamed down my cheek. “I love you.”

    “I love you more,” he said sincerely before we walked back into the greenhouse and went our separate ways.

    As the work day came to a close, I couldn’t let go of the hounding feeling that the dandelion had given me. I dreaded spring. I dreaded not seeing Mark for months. I couldn’t afford a wedding on the mere pennies I had been saving over the last year. Mark’s family would starve without his measly income to help feed them. How many years would we have to be without each other like this? Mark kissed me deeply and reminded me that he would find a way for us to be together, before we went home with our families that night.

    As I laid on the tiny couch that I spent most of my nights on, my parents emerged from their bedroom each carrying a wooden box. I took a break from praying for winter to last longer and sat up to give them room on the couch. They presented me with boxes full of different coins and faded notes.

    “What is this?” I asked.

    “We have been saving everything we could to help you and Mark start a life together,” my mom whispered, making my eyes fill with tears.

    “I know it’s not much, but it will help,” my father said. I hugged them both and thanked them repeatedly. How could they have known that this is exactly what I needed right now? I couldn’t wait to tell Mark the next morning that we wouldn’t have to wait much longer at all. This would pay for a small wedding and a tiny apartment. We could use my pay for things we needed and Mark’s pay to help his family. I hugged the boxes to my chest before hiding them under the couch and going to sleep. This was the more that we both wanted.

    As I walked to our meeting spot the next morning, Mark wasn’t waiting for me like normal. I waited until my fingers froze and my toes were numb; Mark didn’t come. After the feeling of dread sank deep into my belly, my mom came out of the greenhouse to tell me that no one in Mark’s family had come to work. It wasn’t possible, they were worse off than we were; they couldn’t afford to miss work. Throughout the day, rumors started to run throughout the greenhouse, none of them good. My thoughts were filled with worry and my stomach hurt non-stop. We didn’t have many winter days left together and soon we would have to return to our separate neighborhoods until the following winter.

    When Mark’s mom arrived at the greenhouse the next morning without her other children, I could see in her eyes that something was wrong.

    “Mark went out to sell extra food last night.”

    “They hurt him really bad.”

    “I’m so sorry.”

    My head was spinning and my knees gave out as the words his mom was saying to me sunk in; I dropped to the cold ground. The beauty of winter forever ruined.

Beautiful Winter (Flash Fiction pt. 1/2)

    We knew the way of life. It was hard, but this is how we grew up. We didn’t have anything, but it didn’t stop us from wanting everything.

    In Marysville, everyone had a designated job for the betterment of the community as a whole. A job that was assigned to you based on your abilities and your family’s status. My family had consisted of gardeners for as far back as I knew. Both of my parents were gardeners, my sister and I were both gardeners. I knew that my children would most likely also be gardeners.

    Each neighborhood in Marysville had their own public garden to attend to and we all had to hold up our end of the deal. We barely made enough money to live on, so we didn’t have the luxury of not going to work. Every day was a work day that started at dawn and didn’t end until well after dusk. It was hard work, but it had to be done. I wished for more but that was life and there were no other options.

    By the time I was done with my teenage years, I already knew how to grow everything the government would require of my family. I spent every day during the spring prepping and planting. Long summer days were for caring for the plants, harvesting those that were ready, and weeding the garden. Every day during the fall, I harvested the rest of the plants and then prepped the garden for winter. I loved spending the days with my family and with the other gardeners that we worked alongside, but what I really looked forward to was winter.

    Winter did not bring about much change in duties; just location. There was only one massive greenhouse for all of Marysville to work during the winter so all the neighborhoods worked together for those short three months. We got to expand our relationships outside of just those within our enclosed neighborhoods. My parents rekindled old friendships and my young sister met new friends. Working together in the greenhouse is how I met Mark. Mark was my age, the oldest of four children and a gardener from two neighborhoods over. We could only be together during the winter, but those short three months were what I looked forward to for the remaining nine months of the year.

    Mark and I meet near the west entrance every morning, no matter the cold or the snow; the sun barely risen. Every morning, I would arrive to find him already waiting for me, his back turned to the brisk wind and his hands cupping his mouth in an attempt to stay warm. As soon as I would step into his field of vision, Mark would envelope me in his arms. I never knew how long he waited for me. No matter how cold the morning, I instantly felt warm and safe in his arms. “Good morning,” he would whisper against my mouth before kissing me deeply. I had been meeting Mark this way for the last two months. My body learned quickly to respond to his touch; craving more. We only had precious moments before we were forced into the greenhouse for the day’s work.

    Several days out of the week Mark would find excuses to work as close to me as he possibly could. When we were separated, it was heartbreaking. I would find myself looking over my shoulder during the day to look for him. Sometimes, I would catch him staring at me, a smile spreading across his face when our eyes would meet. During our lunch break, we would share our tiny meals, splitting whatever we had between the two of us. Our arms touching, my head leaning over on his shoulder. I lived for these tiny moments. Mark was the other half of my soul, that I could only have in tiny spurts of time.

    As the days carried on, I wished for winter to last forever. Last winter (our first together) went by so much quicker than time had ever gone before. Those three months, where we learned all about each other, felt like three weeks. As the days started to get longer, spring threatened to take hold of Marysville within days. I spent my nights hoping and praying for a blizzard, just to give me more time with Mark. Whenever the snow would fall though, the warmer temperatures would allow most of it to melt away with the rising sun the following morning. Spring was inevitable, no matter how much I prayed.

Work of the Mind -Flash Fiction pt. 2/2

    About halfway through my cup, I set it on the counter and grab my fish-shaped watering can. I have several large plants throughout my house that need tending to. As I walk from plant to plant, watering each in turn, Harper joins me walking between my legs and purring. When she was a kitten, not all of my plants survived her vicious curiosity. Now, she only has curiosity for the birds that fly around outside of her window.

    Returning to the kitchen to replace my watering can, I finish off my first cup of coffee and refill my mug. I bring my mug with me back into my bedroom, Harper doesn’t follow me as I make my bed and then lay out the clothes that I’m going to wear for gardening today. I pull on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a pair of old tennis shoes, and a ball cap. I head for the back door and stop in the little mudroom area to slather on some sunscreen before heading outside. I call for Harper and give her a treat. This has become a routine for the both of us. Whenever I leave the house, she gets a little treat and then I give her two when I return. Harper crunches it happily and sits, watching me as I step outside and close the door.

    The sun is warm, the birds are singing, I can smell all the beautiful flowers and my neighbor’s freshly cut grass. I make my way over to the shed on the side of my house. When I pull open both doors, the sweet smell of fresh dirt fills my nostrils. I stand just inside the shed as I allow my eyes to adjust to the lack of light. The ferns that I bought yesterday come into focus just where I left them, on the left side of the shed. I grab one in each hand and take them out to the yard, before I grab two more; there are ten in total. I return to the shed for my hand shovel and gloves. I wipe my the already accumulating sweat from my brow and then wipe my hand on my jeans.

    The ferns are heavy, but not too large yet. I plant all ten of them in the flower beds before I return inside to take a break and get some water. Harper comes running as soon as she hears the back door open. I smile as I give her two treats for my return. My legs shakily carry me to the kitchen and I grab an apple as well as some water. I want to finish the work outside before the heat gets unbearable but I have to eat something. I sit at the bar with my apple and water and watch the bird house again. Harper jumps up to the stool next to me and watches their messy little dance with me.

    I give myself ten minutes to eat the apple and relax before heading back outside. Harper gets her treat before I head back to the shed. I pull out the monster-sized lawn mower from the back of shed and walk it down the ramp to the yard. It only takes me four tries to pull start it; I’m getting better at it. The lawn mower is self-propelled but still requires a lot of strength to control it around my yard. I put in my ear buds and start the hour-long task of cutting the grass. After it’s finished, I feel accomplished as I breathe in the sweet smell of my hard work.

    As my eyes flutter open, I feel confused. I can still feel the lingering warmth from the sun on my skin. The smell of a hard day’s work in the garden is still lingering in my mind. I’m not curled up in my own bed, I am stick straight in a hospital bed. The sheets are white, but not rumpled. The smile that I know I felt in my dream is completely gone. It is always raining in my head. I can’t move. I haven’t been able to move anything below my arms in the last two months. I can’t figure out if the dreams are fun escapes of the mind or if my mind is torturing me because of the life I lost. A life I will never have again.   

Work of the Mind -Flash Fiction pt. 1/2

    The sun is warming my face, as my eyes flutter open. My eyelashes lift off of my cheeks and lay back down on them slowly. The sun is bright and warm as it shines in through my bedroom window; telling me that Spring is quickly changing into Summer. Alone in my bed, I am curled up in the middle, on my right side. My eyes open fully and take in the scene of smooth, white, cotton sheets and a rumpled, down comforter surrounding my tired body. A smile stretches over my face when I remember today is the first day of my stay-cation. Today I get to spend all day in my garden; it’s not supposed to rain.

    I can smell my coffee maker brewing my life juice in the kitchen. I live for steaming cups of hot joe and the thought of it allows me to rise from my bed with a purpose. I place my feet gently on the cold floor and my toes jump back up in surprise. My comforter has kept me perfectly encased in warmth all night, making the cold floor seem even colder than normal. I smile to myself, thinking of when my mother insisted that I put rugs down in my bedroom. I had refused. I had just had these beautiful floors put in. Why cover them up? I’ll buy rugs and just not tell her.

    I place my feet fully on the floor this time. It’s still cold but not as shocking this time. I stand up from my bed and reach my arms high above my head, stretching my spine. I hear little adjustments and pops as my spine moves and straightens; it’s a refreshing feeling. I must be getting old now, my body didn’t use to make those noises when I was younger.

    I walk three steps from my bed to the overstuffed chair in the corner of my room. I never actually sit in this chair, but I always drape my robe over the arm of it before I crawl into bed at night. As I slide my arms into the sleeves of my robe, another shock of cold runs through me. The pink silk has retained absolutely no heat through the night; the sleeves slide over goosebumps on my arms. I pull the robe in tight to my body, shiver, and tie it at the waist in front.

    I slowly walk toward my bedroom door; my feet are not shocked by the cold anymore. I never shut my bedroom door because I hated it when my mom kept my door shut when I was growing up. None of the doors in my house are ever shut, it’s just me and Harper here; the entire house is my privacy. When I step out of my bedroom and into the hallway, I hear Harper’s paws hit the ground as she comes trotting after me. She knows it must be breakfast time, if I’m heading to the kitchen.

    The coffee maker spits and sputters the last few drops of my life juice into the pot as I’m getting my favorite mug down from the cabinet. I have several mugs, none of them match. My favorite one is matte black with a red outline of an elephant. Harper loses all of her pretend patience as I stir cream into my mug and leaps up onto the counter so she can look me in the eye. “I know,” I say as I rub her fuzzy little gray head and then gently nudge her off of the counter. She runs after me, tracing figure eights on the floor as I dump the wet cat food into her bowl and then place it on her favorite window seat.

    I pet the entire length of her body once, and she nuzzles into my hand as a thank you before devouring her breakfast. I return to my steaming cup of coffee and sip slowly as I watch the morning activity outside of the window that Harper is eating in front of. I have a large bird feeder on a pole several feet from the window, in the yard, and it is always fascinating to watch the birds hop and dance from perch to perch as they eat. The squirrels have not been able to figure out how to get up the pole, but they seem to enjoy the feast that gets dropped to the ground from the messy birds.

Bad Coffee Part Twelve

    The plane is luxurious, super comfy and perfect. I had been able to get us both a week off at the same time without telling Lisa too much about my plans. I didn’t want to ruin the entire surprise before I had even purchased the tickets.

    “I can’t believe we are on our way to Paris!” Lisa squeals as she gets comfortable in her seat. I had made sure that she got a window seat when I purchased the tickets. Lisa had her passport already from traveling to somewhere in Mexico with some friends but she had never been on a long flight like this to Europe. She cozied up to the side of the plane and pressed her whole face up against the window, like an over-excited child.

    “I wouldn’t be too excited yet, it’s a long flight,” I said as I put both of our bags in the overhead compartment.

    “How could that be a bad thing?”

    “There are only so many places you can go on a flying metal tube,” I teased her. I wasn’t afraid of flying, not at all. But after about three hours, I start to get restless.

    “I think this is wonderful. And these seats!” Lisa squeals, making me laugh. I sat down next to Lisa in my own big comfy seat.

    “We’ll see if you still think that after such a long flight.”

    “Quit being such a Debbie Downer!” Lisa admonished me, making me smile. I wiggled in my seat, trying to get comfortable and opened up the book that I had brought with me. Lisa hadn’t brought a book along with us to read but she did bring her phone with some no-Wi-Fi-needed games and a magazine. Before the pilot announced that we had to turn our cell phones onto airplane mode, Lisa took a couple of pictures of us together. We leaned toward each other and put our heads together with big smiles on our faces. She posted it on Instagram with a long winded description of how happy she was to be going on vacation with me. I kissed her forehead and went back to my reading.

    Hours later, we left the flying metal tube to an overcrowded airport. Lisa put on her big sunglasses and dragged her suitcase on wheels behind her as she followed me out to find a taxi. I’m not sure that Lisa isn’t just as much as a Debbie Downer about long flights as I am now, but she won’t dare admit it to me.

    Our driver takes us straight to the Shangri-La Hotel and it doesn’t take us long to get checked in. Of course, I reserved one of the biggest suites in the hotel with all the amenities. There is no reason to not go all out for a vacation to Paris!

    “Oh my God, Elijah! This is amazing!” Lisa says as she walks through the hotel room. We have a full kitchen and a little dining area, a little sitting area with a fireplace, and a spa sized bathroom with a jetted tub. The staff had left a wonderful welcome package for us consisting of fresh fruit, expensive champagne, and delicious macaroons. The bedroom is separated from the rest of the room by heavy, ornate, white double doors. Lisa and I bring our suitcases into the bedroom and set them on the dressers. The four poster bed looks more like a king and a half than just a king. There is beautiful sheer, white draping fabric hanging from above the bed, making it look like a bed from a fairytale. The bed has a white, fluffy comforter and at least a dozen wonderful throw pillows. Lisa plopped down on the bed, sliding her shoes off and laying back, she stretched out completely and there was still room. “I can’t even believe this,” she said, moving her outstretched arms up and down as if she was making a snow angel.

    “I need a bed like that at my house,” I said. I smile and walk over to the very large windows. They aren’t just large windows but huge glass doors leading out to our own private terrace. I am immediately overcome with the beauty of the view from our balcony. “Lisa, come here!” It’s a spacious balcony with a small wrought iron table to match the railing and two chairs. We can see the Eiffel Tower to the right. It is so close to our terrace that it dwarfs everything else around it.

    After Lisa and I snap at least a dozen photos of us together in front of the Eiffel Tower, Lisa walks back into our room. As she started moving throw pillows off of the bed, she tossed a couple of them at me. “You gonna join me for a nap?”

    “What’s wrong?” I asked, teasingly. “Long plane ride too much for ya there?”

    “I didn’t say that!” she said and then chucked a pillow at me with force, making me laugh. “I just really like this bed,” she said under her breath.

    “Oh, okay. Well that’s good cuz we gotta sleep in it for a week,” I said, winking at her. Surprisingly, Lisa didn’t undress for our nap. She has used ‘take a nap’ as code before. As we curled up in between the perfect sheets, the bed enveloped us in comfort. I wrapped my arms around Lisa’s middle and pulled her across the huge bed and into me. I held her tight and tucked my face into her neck. It comforted me to listen to her breathing change as she started to fall asleep in my arms. It wasn’t long before I was fast asleep right next to her.

    A few hours later, my growling stomach woke me. Lisa was still sleeping, but she had rolled away from me. I get up quietly, trying not to disturb her, I need food. I call down to the concierge to find out what I could do about getting some food sent to our room. I really don’t want to wake up Lisa just to drag her around the city after our long plane ride. I picked several things from the 24/7 room service menu, and then quickly showered. Room service arrives beautifully presented. I could tell that setting up beautiful dinners was not a new job for this gentleman. He lit candles, set out our plates, silverware, glasses, and napkins. It is beyond absolutely gorgeous; everything smelled delicious.

    “Hey, sleepy head,” I whisper into Lisa’s ear as I sit next to where she lay in the bed. As her eyes start to flutter, I start moving the little wisps of hair from her face. “You gonna sleep all day?” I ask, Lisa smiles.

    “I just might,” she says as she stretches out across the bed.

    “Are you hungry?”

    “Most definitely,” Lisa says and then yawns. “What do you want to do for dinner?”

    “I already have that handled. Why don’t you wake up and get ready, nothing fancy, and meet me out on the balcony?”

    “Oh?” Lisa asks, eyeing me suspiciously. Now she was fully awake.

    “Yep. Come on,” I say and swat her butt before I stand up to head outside. I watch Lisa get out of bed from where I stand, leaned up against the balcony. Lisa striped her pants and shirt off and dropped them on the floor as she walked to the bathroom. It was the simplest, sexiest thing and makes me smile watching her. I poured both of us some wine, double checked that everything was beautiful and ready for when Lisa comes out. As I am fidgeting at things and pacing the balcony, the Eiffel Tower blinks on. I am absolutely stunned by it’s beautiful brilliance. “Lisa!!” I yell toward the bathroom where Lisa is still getting ready.

    “Yeah?” Lisa asks as she steps out of the bathroom. She is still only in her bra and panties and she is tossing her long hair with her fingertips as she walks toward me. “What’s up, babe?”

    “Come here,” I wave for her with urgency. She saunters to me without stopping to get dressed first. As we walk together out onto the balcony, Lisa’s hands freeze in her hair. After a second, Lisa straightens up and drops her hands to her sides.

    “Oh…” she says in awe.

    “Isn’t it amazing?”

    “It’s beyond amazing,” Lisa whispers. Lisa turns around to see the table that I have ready for our dinner. Then all of a sudden, she realizes that she is standing outside, on a balcony, in just her panties and bra. In Paris no less! Embarrassment isn’t really what happens when it dawns on her. Instead what happens is she looks down at her almost nude body, and laughs hysterically. Her loud, beautiful laugh makes me laugh.

    “I’m not complaining!” I answer her unasked question.

    “I’ll be right back out,” Lisa says and kisses me on the cheek. I sit down at the table to wait for Lisa, for only a couple of minutes. Lisa walks back out onto the terrace in a beautiful sun dress, with her hair up in a simple ponytail. I stand and walk over to Lisa.

    “You look absolutely beautiful.” I kiss Lisa’s cheek and place my hand on the small of her back.

    “Thank you,” she said. I pulled out Lisa’s chair for her and then kissed the top of her head. I pulled the silver domes off of the platters in the center of the table. “Oh yum! That smells amazing, Elijah!”

    “It does, doesn’t it? I just had them send a little bit of all the best.”

    “That was a great plan,” Lisa says as I take my own seat.

    “Dig in.” Dinner was absolutely amazing. I couldn’t think of anything that I would rather being doing right now instead of being here with Lisa, having dinner and watching the Eiffel Tower light up the night sky.

    The first night in Paris was a beautiful, relaxing, night. We lounged in our oversized bed, cuddled up together, watching TV. We called for room service once more throughout the night so that Lisa and I could share dessert together. She fed me and I fed her while in bed. Lisa took several pictures of us laughing, cuddled up, and feeding each other and posted them on her Instagram. We had a wonderful night and ended up falling asleep in each other’s arms, while still watching whatever show was on the TV.

Bad Coffee Part Eleven

    I am so intrigued and instantly excited. She's basically skipping down the trail, looking left and right for a spot hidden enough that we don't have to worry about being interrupted. Around another bend, Lisa stops, drops my hand and then ducks into a tiny little cave in the rock. As I follow Lisa, I have to wait for my eyes to adjust to the loss of light. Once we were inside, there was plenty of room to stand up. Lisa grabbed me and pushed me up against the side of the cave. 

    "This will do just fine," I said before grabbing Lisa and kissing her deeply. I held her face between my hands and swirled my tongue around hers. She bit my bottom lip and slid her hands down the front of my shorts. I dropped my right hand and slid it into the front of her leggings. I found her clit and began swirling my finger around it, making her moan while I kissed her. I could hardly see anything inside of our little cave but it only heightened my other senses. I could hear both of our ragged breathing, I could feel Lisa squirming, her clit swelling; she was so wet. 

  

    "Don't be too loud now," she whispered and then she dropped to her knees in front of me and pulled my shorts down around my ankles. I leaned my head back against the rock as she took all of me into her mouth. She slowly ran her tongue up the length of me and then sucked on me hard; making me moan. "Shh," Lisa giggled. 

    "I can't help it," I whispered. Then I grabbed ahold of her ponytail and held her head in place as I thrust myself in and out of her mouth. Lisa grabbed ahold of my ass and dug her fingernails into me, which only made me crazier. I'd be willing to be that she was sucking on me so hard that I would have bruises. "Fuck," I whispered. I don't know how long I am going to be able to tolerate this. Lisa started moaning and it drove me even crazier. My body was bursting with tension. When Lisa slowed down her motions, I though she was going to stop, but then she sped up and wouldn't stop; she latched onto me. "Lisa," I pleaded. "I'm gonna cum." She moaned and I lost all control. I poured everything I had into Lisa's mouth while I bit down on one of my fists, trying to keep quiet. Lisa released me and I pulled up my shorts with her as she stood. 

    "Let's get out of here," Lisa whispered. I followed her back out of the cave, to the trail where the sunlight burned my eyes. I double checked our appearances while Lisa looked around for other park visitors. After we saw that we were still alone, we giggled together and then Lisa kissed me passionately, before we headed to our cars. 

    "I'm gonna head home and see if my new roommate needs any help getting her stuff put away," Lisa said and kissed me. 

    "Have fun," I said as I closed her car door for her. I waved her off and headed over to my car. I have never done anything like that before. I've been saying that a lot since I started dating Lisa, I noticed. I laughed to myself, ran my fingers through my hair, and then headed home. 

    

    After I showered at home, I started looking up some vacation options online. The thought of taking Lisa on a little vacation crossed my mine while I was in the shower and I don't think she would mind taking a break with me. I didn't want to get her hopes up yet but I was already a little bit excited at the idea. I had to figure out if I had the time for a vacation and if Lisa could swing time away from work anytime soon. I don't know where she has or hasn't been. I don't know if I want to pick somewhere in the country or somewhere else. 

Bad Coffee Part Ten

    As I bring the last box up to Lisa's apartment, I see her helping her new roommate unpack. Lisa had decided to get a roommate to ease some of the burden of her bills. It didn't take her long to find someone that seemed to be perfect for her. They seemed to hit it off as fast friends almost immediately. 

   

    "Last one," I announce to the girls in the kitchen.

    "Thank you so much," Stacey says as she comes over to grab the box from me.

    "Not a problem at all," I say. "Do you guys need anything else before I head out?"

    "Where ya off to, babe?" Lisa asked as she sauntered over to me.

    "I was thinking about heading out to do some walking on some of the trails today."

    "Oh that sounds like so much fun!" Stacey says.

    "Well, I don't mind company," I say. "Do you guys want to join me?"

    "I'll go change," Lisa says.

    "How about you just meet me there? I'd like to change too."

    "Okay," Lisa says. "Stace? You gonna come with?"

    "Maybe next time. I wanna get all this stuff put away," she says as she gestures to the mountain of stacked boxes. 

    "Next time, then," I said, kissed Lisa and headed for home.

    I pulled my car into an empty parking spot and turned off my car. I hadn't seen Lisa's car here yet so I grabbed my phone to text her. We had had several dates thus far and everything was going swimmingly. I absolutely adored spending time with Lisa. That's without even considering the wild, adventurous sex life we have between the two of us. I'm still amazed and shocked when I think about the fact that Lisa and I have both been with other people during our relationship. I'm not going out of my way to go after other women or anything like that but the fact that it happened...I don't know; I laugh to myself. I also happen to think that Stacey is attractive too. Lisa has opened up so much in me and I find myself wondering what it would be like to...no, never mind. 

    I get out of my car and stretch, looking around for Lisa's car; I see her pull into the parking lot. As Lisa gets out of her car, I am greeted with a big smile. She looks stunning, as usual, in a pair of floral workout leggings, and a pink tank top.

    "Very nice," I say as she walks up to me and gives me a kiss.

    "You too," she says. I only changed into a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt.

    "Well, shucks, thanks," I say. I lean down and grab my water bottle from my car. "Ready?" Lisa nods. At the beginning of the trail, there are three different color-coded markers to choose from based on what difficulty you are looking for. "We can handle red, right?" I ask Lisa. The more difficult, the better for me, that's what I wanted when I first started thinking about hiking today. Lisa nods and we head toward the red-coded path. Lisa doesn't have a hard time keeping up with me as we go through the path. We climbed up trails, up huge rock faces and back down; out of breath after several minutes but not in a bad way. When we got to the top of the next rock face, Lisa and I paused at the top to take a breather and have some water. 

    

    "This is intense," Lisa said in between sips of water. "How often do you do this?"

    "On hard mode?" I asked and Lisa nodded. "Not all the time, maybe once or twice a month in good weather but just going out on a trail, all the time."

    "You're insane, this is insane," Lisa said, making me laugh.

    "But look at how beautiful it is," I said gesturing to the gorgeous view. "Come here!" Lisa walked over closer to me and smiled when I produced my phone so we could take a selfie together in front of the view. 

    "Me sweating and getting all gross takes away from the view," she said when we sat down for a break. 

    "It does not. Plus, we're both sweaty. Deal with it." Lisa rolls her eyes and takes another drink of her water. 

    "All the time though?" Lisa asks. I nod and laugh. After several minutes, Lisa and I head back to the trail. 

    "So, how were things with Stacey after I left?" I ask.

    "Good. I think it is going to be pretty great."

    "Yeah, you guys seem to get along pretty well."

    "She's hot too huh?" Lisa says, elbowing me jokingly. 

    "That's not what I said."

    "I know. I happen to think that she is."

    "She's not to bad to look at," I agree. I can't believe this is the conversation that is happening right now. I had just been in my car a little bit ago when the rogue thought of possibly having a good time with the both of them came into my head.

    "Either way, I do really like her and I think we will get along just fine," Lisa says. "But I sure as hell wouldn't mind something more than just a roommate," she adds making me chuckle. 

    "That could get messy quick." 

    "Don't clam up on me now, Elijah," Lisa says as she stops on the trail ahead of me and turns around. "Don't you think it could be fun?" I can't stop my brain from coming up with its own versions of what would indeed be fun about that. Lisa wraps her arms around my neck and places her lips on mine. I wrap my arms around her torso and pull her in close to me. As I kiss her, Lisa leans further into my body. The basketball shorts do absolutely nothing to hide my want for Lisa. "Oh, is that for me? Or is that because I suggested it would be fun to play with my roommate?" Lisa asks while grabbing ahold of me, making me moan.

    

    "Definitely you," I say and kiss her more. 

    "We should find somewhere to help you with that."

    "There is nowhere here that I could possibly have you right now." 

    "That just means you aren't looking hard enough," Lisa says and breaks away from me with a smile. "Come on," she says and starts pulling me by my hand down the trail.