Welcome to The Creativeness Within Me

I hope you will enjoy browsing through this blog and looking at My Writings, Photography and Paintings. Painting is a fairly new enterprise but I will take pictures of them as I go along to assess improvement (if there is any). But the point is in enjoying what we do and hoping that what we have to offer brings some pleasure or interest to others, or just plain curiousity.

If you like The Creativeness Within Me you may wish to go to my other blogs: http://www.sbehnish.blogspot.com (Talk, Tales, Thoughts and Things) which is about motivational topics, travel, parenting ... and other things, ttp://www.progressofabraininjury.blogspot.com which is, as the name suggests, about brain injuries and http://www.sebehnish.blogspot.com which is my travel blog.

Thank you for stopping by.

Sylvia Behnish

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Things Are Not Always As They Seem

Part of a Short Story

Roger, shaking with fear, could hear his friend huffing along behind him as they ran.

"Wait for me. Why are we running?" Mark whispered.

"Hurry up," Roger hissed urgently to his friend. "Didn't you hear that? We've got to go and tell Dad. That woman was being murdered."

Bursting out of the trees, Roger ran into the house as if a pack of wolves was on their tail. "Daddy, Daddy, a woman - she's getting murdered - in the woods. We've got to do something."

"What are you talking about, Son? Now calm down and tell me what you saw."

"Mark and I were playing in our stump cave and I came out ... to look for something that we could make into seats. I heard them, Daddy. It sounded like the woman was ... crying. He was on top of her ... he was choking her, Daddy. It looked like she ... was trying to get away."

"Was she screaming?"

"No, I didn't hear her ... exactly. It sounded like she was ... laughing but she wouldn't laugh when she was being murdered. He was murdering her, Daddy. He was right on top of her."

"Okay, you and Mark go into the kitchen and get a glass of milk and some cookies and I'll go take a look," his father said.

* * * * * *

Roger thought back to that time many years ago and still felt the wave of embarrassment wash over him as it had many times over the years when he thought of that incident. He remembered his father coming back and putting a hand on his shoulder and saying, "The woman was'nt murdered, Son. You'll discover as you get older that things are not always as they seem."

Over the years he thought often about what his father had said. And how often had he heard his mother say the same thing? Like when he thought one of his friends was spreading a rumor about him and later found out that he was planning a surprise for his birthday. "Roger," his mother had told him, "you'll have to remember as you get older to look into the facts before you get upset because things aren't always as they seem."

He had later discovered that it went even further than that. Women often weren't what they initially appeared to be either, and the same went for men. And a place you loved to visit may turn out to be quite different when you decided to live there. The same could be said for food. What may look absolutely delicious on the plate may not have the taste of perfection. The list was endless. Presentation may imply more than the substance warrants, he had often thought to himself over the years following many disappointments. It was something he was still coming to terms with because he always got drawn in with what appeared to be rather than what actually was. But how do you determine the difference between what seems and what is? He had asked himself this questions many times in the past.

* * * * * *

When he'd first met Serena, he'd been impressed with her friendly and outgoing personality. As they were introduced, she had tossed thick bangs off her forehead in a practised manner, causing her long carmel colored hair to float across her shoulders. He had been mesmerized with that abundance of silk cascading down her back. And her eyes, they had been the most startling shade of green he'd ever encountered. He'd been entranced with the vision before him. Her happy spirit had filled every room she entered and people always gravitated to her side enjoying her company, and her laughter. She was the life and center of every social event they ever attended. He always stood at her side, an obscure shadow to her bigger than life personality. In short she was the effervescence of every social gathering. Everything else in comparison was dull and drab.

That was until they were in the confines of their own surroundings. The laughter bubbled away to an underground trickle, the abundant hair was put into a bun, the green contacts were replaced with glasses and the happy spirit tucked up her feet and gathered to her bosom the latest book she was reading. But the smile, when she turned it on him, remained effervescent and the shadow became obscure no more. His happy spirit filled the room when she smiled at him and he became Superman to her Lois Lane. ...

No comments:

Post a Comment