Anything Was Better than That

Anything was better than that.

"Any damn thing," I said, pausing for nerve before bursting through the doors...

***

The lift ride had been long. And I'd figured we'd be crammed together like lemmings, herded into the mine below, but it was just four of us, my Daddy included.

"No worries, boy." The tool pusher had said, triggering the lantern on his hard-hat. "First time down's the worse." His light beamed across my clenched fists.

"You'll be getting' used to it right soon," my Daddy told me.

I grinned and tried to believe him, but he sounded muffled and distant.

Damn!

I plugged my nose and equalized. They'd warned me, but I didn't believe that either.

The lift whined and screeched, and we shuddered to a halt. The tool pusher swung the gate open. I dug my fingers into my hands with excitement, but instead of stiff pain stabbing my palms, I felt four soft tips. I'd cut my nails the night before on the advice of my Daddy. "That black dust gets in everything. It's impossible to get out."

I peered out of the lift with a nod. This deep below the surface, the air reeked of earth, and the sour taste of coal settled on the tongue. It was cold, too, but motionless, except for the gang of miners just beyond the gate, waiting for us to unload so they could return topside. They swayed, leaning upon each other as though each man alone lacked the strength to hold himself upright.

The sight made me open my hands. Black dirt clouded their faces and overalls. Their eyes, though, that's what got me. Was it the light? I couldn't tell. But as I searched, nothing gazed back except the purest, emptiest blackness.

"Let's go, son." My Daddy's voice. He'd stepped off the lift and stood with the others.

And I saw his eyes too.

"It's okay." He gestured down the tunnel. "I'll show you the ropes. Like I promised."

I shook my head.

He stepped forward, but I backed against the lift's wall. "No way in hell."

"You need this job, son."

He was right; I did need it---me and High School just never got along.

But I refused to budge.

"C'mon out," the tool pusher growled and grasped my wrist. "They're waitin' on you."

I pulled against him, but he held fast.

My Daddy reached for me. I looked him dead in the eye. And I made my decision.

I kicked the tool pusher in the groin. When he hit the ground, I buried another boot in his ribs. That got him out of the lift. I slammed the gate and punched the button, sending the cables whining.

"I got you this job!" My Daddy hollered after me. "What're you gonna do for work?"

***

That was the last I ever heard from him, but to this day, I still think of him staring upward through the darkness.

And anything was better than that...

"Any damn thing," I growled and burst through the doors, rushing the nearest teller with shotgun raised.

All the Best Surfers-Short Story

It was a summer day in the early 1980s when my buddy Al handed me the surfboard wax and said, "here, put this on your feet."

"Right," I laughed.

"No, man. I'm serious. Wax your feet."

Al's sense of humor was really dry, and sometimes it was impossible to tell when he was joking. Like the night he convinced sixteen-year-old me I looked twenty-one and insisted I go into a liquor store to buy beer.

"You have ID?" the store owner glared as I set the alcohol on the counter.

"Uh, I must've left it in the car."

"Well," he pushed the six-pack toward me, "why don't you put this back in the freezer."

Al laughed for five minutes after I walked out glowing cherry red.

Needless to say, I remained skeptical about this wax deal. "It's for your board. Not your feet."

"Yeah. But look, it removes all the grease and stuff so you get better traction."

I kept quiet.

"I can't believe you don't believe me!" He grabbed the wax, dropped butt-first onto the cement, and began rubbing it against his heel. "All the best surfers are doing this. I heard about it at a contest. It works---but you don't trust me."

"I trust you," I replied. "Just not right now."

"Whatever, man. You'll see, though."

What happened next was so perfect, I still wonder if Al somehow planned it.

Marching onto the beach with board under arm, I was momentarily transfixed by the medium-sized waves breaking against the outer reef. As I planned the best passage through the whitewater, Al elbowed me. I followed his nod toward a pair of surfers seated on the sand.

They were a couple of Filipino guys, which was unusual in North County---most surfers up here were as white as Wonder Bread---and they had these tiny five-foot boards with two fins---the trendy thing before three became the mainstay of surfboard design. At first, I wondered what Al was pointing out, the Filipinos or their awesome boards. Suddenly, I did a double-take. Sure enough, they were rubbing wax against the bottoms of their feet!

I shook my head and Al grinned ear-to-ear, an expression which grew even wider when we saw the Filipinos surf. Spray flew over the backs of waves as they carved their turns, flawlessly completing sets of 360s---also trendy back then, but these guys pulled them like full-on pros.

After one of them ripped an off-the-lip and soaked us with spray, Al could contain himself no longer. "Told you!" he boasted with a chuckle.

"Okay, you win," I grimaced.

Yeah, Al may have been right---but I'm stubborn. Even after that experience, I still never rubbed surf wax on my feet---and in the fifteen years since, I've never caught anyone else doing it either!

Because of this, I feel like I deserve the last laugh. But one thing keeps me silent: maybe those are the only guys I know of who waxed their feet, but to this day, they're also the absolute best surfers I've ever seen.

After shock- Short story

After shock

The door swung slowly inward, and I clung onto the jamb so tightly it made my knuckles pale. The room stared at me silently, but I felt it shake, a rumbling like thunder, everything crashing all around...

No! It was over! The earthquake had ended!

I took a deep breath, wrenching my hand free, and forced myself into the room. I wanted to step surely, solidly, as though that would bring stability back, but my shoes crunched upon the broken china strewn about the floor. I dodged my couch, spun from its normal perch, and came to the nightstand and lamp which lay on their sides.

Somehow, neither lay broken. I picked up the lamp. It still gave off a sparkling reflection from its cylindrical base, and I twisted it around and gazed into it like a crystal ball. The littered floor, the table and couch, my fallen bureau, the overturned desk and computer, pictures that'd slid from the wall---all this reflected at me in an image distorted by the lamp's shape.

And there, in the midst of this distortion, blurred into a single image with the disarray about the room, was my face, a warped figure staring, eyes unnaturally wide.

Something screamed from the corner, and I dropped the lamp and covered my ears.

Down, down, down it fell, as if in slow motion, and my reflection within the base seemed to reach out, arms groping futilely above its head to stop the fall.

The lamp hit the hardwood floor and shattered, spraying shards everywhere.

The scream came again.

I wanted to scream back, but was stopped by a sudden realization. "The phone!" I grunted, dropping my hands. I pushed my way into the kitchen. The reek coming from my overturned refrigerator nearly overwhelmed me, but I took short breaths, trying to inhale only through my mouth, and lifted the receiver.

"You okay?" my brother's voice asked calmly, a contrast to everything that surrounded me.

"I... I... think..." I began to answer.

"It's alright," he interrupted. "Maybe it's still too soon."

"No!" I blurted. "I can do this."

"Look, earthquakes are traumatic. And you had the worse of it."

"No!" I called again. "Damn it! I can handle this! It's been long enough."

My brother paused briefly, then said, "I know how you feel. I've been scared too. It can take time."

My grasp threatened to crush the phone and I cried, "Damn you! It's been three months, and I've never been---" I cut myself short.

Voice soothing, he said, "Okay. You decide what's best. You're welcome to keep staying with us---lucky my wife still likes you!" He laughed, and continued more solemnly, "It's up to you. But remember. There's no shame in this. You've been through a lot."

I nodded with the phone still to my cheek, and said, "Okay."

After I hung up, I glanced around. The light flashed off the lamp shards I'd recently added to the mess, reflecting tiny pieces of myself scattered about.

"No shame!" I cried shaking my head with my eyes closed.

Based on a true story.

After Eighteen Months-Short Story

I sat in the chair, unable to take my eyes off the decayed body on the bed.

"How long's it been?" The detective asked, bending close to examine the corpse. "Eighteen months, huh. Hard to believe." He lifted the bottle of pills from the nightstand, blew the dust off and read the name, "David Hansen. Humph."

As he replaced it, the photographer came in and exchanged greetings. I remained in my seat, watching the flash pop several times.

"Can't understand it," the photographer said after he'd finished. "How's a guy be dead for eighteen months---I mean, that's a year and half---and no one notice?"

I'd been asking myself the same question. Asking myself, all the while trying not to cry, not to yell, not to scream as I sat here alone.

"I don't know," the detective answered. "Landlady said his rent was deducted automatically." He pointed to a picture on the wall directly over my chair. "And his dance troupe. Looks like they broke up a few weeks before."

"What about family? Friends?" The photographer gestured toward the corpse. "C'mon! Nobody's that alone, that cut off from the world!"

The detective sighed and nodded toward the bottle of pills, "Maybe that's why he did it."

I jumped to my feet and cried, "Yes! Yes!"

"Hey there!" Another voice hollered from down the hallway. "You guys call for us?

"In here," the detective responded.

A uniformed man stepped into the room pulling a gurney followed by a second attendant. He glanced at the body. "Pretty decomposed. We're gonna have to take it sheets and all."

"Whatever," the detective responded with a wave.

I remained standing as the ambulance attendants gathered the sheets around the body, lifted it gently from the bed, and laid it softly onto the gurney.

The photographer, eyes upon the departing attendants, said, "You know, it's tragic when a man has to kill himself to get such kind treatment."

The detective blew a breath through his nose and shook his head. Silently, the two of them left the room.

When they disappeared out the front door, I collapsed back in my chair with head in hands. Alone again. Just like I'd been the last eighteen months. Just liked I'd been all my life.

"That's why I did it!" I yelled. "And now... I'll be alone for the rest of eternity." I began to sob.

"David," A voice said.

As the tears ran off my face and disappeared into the air, I looked up, and there, from the doorway, a hand beckoned.

"Come David. You're not alone any longer."

"Who cares!" I screamed.

"I do." The hand continued beckoning, but I shrank back, seeing the horrible scar upon its wrist.

"You're scarred too."

My body was gone, but yes, I had to agree.

"Come. We can be scarred together." The hands reached out, wrapped round, lifted up.

And crushed!

I fought. They crushed further. I fought, but they were too powerful---and slowly, tentatively, I gave in.

Finally, I gave in.

And finally, I returned the embrace they offered.

She'll Never Admit -Short story

Our annual Christmas party. My husband Harry and I threw our first as newlyweds, and we've have kept it up for almost twenty years now. The idea was to be nontraditional: no green, white or red attire allowed; no gifts; and the food... Suffice it to say that last year we had sushi, and the year before, pollo asado.

"I can't wait to taste tonight's selection!" Marjorie Gunderson said, grasping her husband's sleeve as if it were a leash.

I made a zipping motion across my lips.

Marjorie grinned, and taking her husband into tow once more, she replied, "it's terribly interesting how everyone seems the same, yet after so many years, we've all grown---"

"More mature," I cut in.

"Ah ha," she winked. "I was going to say 'wiser,' but your solution will do. By the way," she scanned the nearest guests, "where's Lucie?"

"I expect her any time now," I said, sounding as robotic as I felt. Harry had cajoled me into inviting Lucie, even though we hadn't spoken for five months.

"I know what she did was wrong," Harry had said, "but you are best friends."

"Were!" I replied. "She'll never admit she was wrong."

"That," Harry had scolded, "is a two way street."

Marjorie squeezed my shoulder. "Robin?"

"Sorry. Just a little reminiscence."

She raised her eyebrows and gave her companion a tug, "come dear."

As they retreated, I realized that I had forgotten to take their coats. I stepped after them, but the bonging doorbell halted me.

"Hello Robin," Lucie said, fingers clenching her coat at the collar.

"Cold tonight," I replied, as the door thudded behind her. "May I take this," I indicated her jacket.

"No, no!" Lucie blurted. "I, uh, I'm still a tad chilly. Let me warm myself, and I'll put it away later."

I nodded once.

"I'm sorry," she said.

I went stiff. "What?"

"Sorry for being late."

"Oh," I sighed.

Her eyes darted about, taking in her surroundings. "You did a wonderful job decorating."

"Thanks."

"So, what is it this year? Some pork dish, according to Harry."

"Kalua pig." For twenty years, she was the sole person I'd confide in. How could I break that habit now?

"Hawaiian! Serving poi too, I take it."

"Exactly."

"Hmm," she mumbled.

"What?" I prodded.

"Well, I'm pretty sure that's a Christmas dish on the islands."

"Nonsense."

Before she could argue, a rap on the door resounded. "Please excuse me," I brushed past to greet our newest arrivals.

At dinner, Lucie and I sat at opposite ends of the table. The caterers had already revealed the roasted pig to a round of applause. They then proceeded to cover our plates with taro leaves and steaming slices of pork, placing bowls of poi to the sides.

Poi. I requested this specifically---with explicit instructions to heap a double portion for Lucie. And Harry thought he had convinced me!

Attempting to savor the moment, first I turned to Marjorie Gunderson, grinning expectantly. However, as she spooned the outmeal-like substance into her mouth, she raised her eyebrow with a look of interest. Harry nudged my shoulder, but I ignored him. Marjorie was smiling!

"Robin," he said, nudging me a second time, "here."

I accepted the china absently.

"For your poi."

I was grasping a sugar bowl.

"Compliments of Lucie. Actually makes the stuff edible!"

I glanced over, and Lucie waved a hand above her sweetened poi, laughing as Marjorie and her husband smacked their lips.

I clenched the napkin in my lap. Harry leaned over and whispered, "talk to her!" But I gave a single, abrupt shake of the head.

After that fiasco, I succeeded in avoiding Lucie the rest of the evening.

Almost.

When I had finally shown the last of our guests out, I dragged my feet over to the sofa and flopped into the cushions. Harry sat across from me, shoes off, rubbing his arches.

"All in all, a successful evening," I said.

Harry blinked, and the toilet flushed in the foyer bath. I jumped to my feet just as Lucie stepped out, cradling her coat.

"I'll go clean up," Harry said, heading toward the kitchen. "Good night Lucie."

Neither of us acknowledged him; we simply stared in silence. I certainly wasn't going to be the one to speak first!

A dish crashed, and both Lucie and I jumped. "Harry!" I screamed, heart pounding.

"Sorry," came the muffled reply.

I shook my head, but Lucie began to chuckle.

"Sure, go ahead and laugh," I growled. "It wasn't one of your dishes!"

She managed to squeak out "No," but this caused her to laugh even harder. Finally, when she realized I was not sharing in the moment, she swallowed and wiped her mouth.

"Come now," she said, serious once again. "Certainly you can see the humor..."

I crossed my arms.

She inhaled and glanced toward the door.

Leave! I thought. And good riddance too!

But instead of doing what I'd silently asked, she stepped off the foyer and onto our living room carpet. "How long have we been friends, Robin?"

"More than thirty years."

She nodded slowly. "We've been through a lot. But this..." She sighed and frowned. "You know, I never wanted to hurt you."

"Well, you did."

She remained still. "Look, I just wanted to say---"

"Spare me the platitudes," I told her.

And once more, we stood in silence. But instead of a waiting on another broken dish, Lucie stepped forward, reached into her coat, and produced a small wrapped package.

"No gifts!" I raised my palm. "It's the rules."

Lucie shrugged and placed it in my hand. "Consider it a token of... my friendship." She hugged me briefly, and departed.

Somehow, I kept myself from opening it until bedtime. Inside, Lucie had wrapped a necklace with a ruby, my birthstone.

"What's that?" Harry mumbled, propping himself on his elbows.

"It's from Lucie. But..."

"But?"

"I didn't get her anything!" I said, swallowing over a lump in my throat.

Harry kissed my cheek. "There's always tomorrow."

"Mmm, yes," I replied, and the lamp light sent beams of crimson through the ruby and down my wrist.

I Planned For This -Short story

I Planned For This

"I planned for this!" I cried toward the locked door. My words echoed off the metal---four inches thick and secured to cement walls---the reverberation masking my wavering inflection.

"You can't stay in there forever!" a voice cracked through the wall-speaker. Jones it was, head of security, flanked, no doubt, by a contingent of badged police officers. "You're only making it worse," he cried. So cliche, this Jones, like playing cops-and-robbers in a '50s B-movie.

"Sorry, but you'll have to do it the hard way." A perfectly in-character, premeditated response that---premeditation, my forte. Typically.

I frowned and clenched my fist at my temples.

"We have a warrant."

I grinned, but only briefly. "Back to work," I mumbled. Double-checking my lock algorithm, I calculated about an hour of decryption before Jones succeeded "the hard way." I grasped the wrench, a clumsy instrument, especially for our Device, but time---ah, the irony!---often required such sacrifices.

A patch of red?

My hand convulsed, and the wrench clattered upon the tiling. Merton's task this, I realized (irony upon irony!), bending to retrieve the tool---shining as if brand new, the bloodstain having been an illusion.

Jones switched tactics. "We know you did it!" he blared.

What could I expect? As a young man, I had mapped out our television B-movie schedule every Sunday. The "Sci-Fi" films tempted us into the science that eventually became our time machine---Merton and I, best friends, always analyzing the feasibility of even the most inane premise. Ours the noblest of endeavors: the search for knowledge, for ultimate truth.

"Brilliant deduction on your part," I mouthed to Jones as I applied the wrench. Though a delicate operation, my awkward grasp required both hands for steadiness.

"And how feasible is God?"

I froze. Merton?

Yes, yes, I breathed, of course, a memory.

"Look," Merton had continued, "we weigh the probability of things like UFOs, ghosts, time travel." He flicked the black locks from his eyes for emphasis. "It's Sunday! And we haven't once considered God."

The catalyst!

"To prove God," I replied, "We would need to go back, visit some Biblical era." But which one? And how? The first question, we answered in a week. The second, well, that required meticulous planning.

"Here," I presented Merton with the sheet. "Four years, mathematics focus. Four more, physics."

"We'll need biology," Merton stated, returning our coursework schedule, which I revised appropriately. Time travel is most serious---and exceedingly difficult---business, but we pursued my curriculum precisely.

Precisely, that is, until one week ago.

"I give up," Merton had said in customarily simple---though somewhat matured---terms.

"Let me try," I misinterpreted, relieving Merton of his wrench and brushing him aside to gain access to the Device.

"No, no." He intervened. "It won't work. I've been going over our figures. We've at least three bad assumptions."

"That's all?" I asked facetiously. "Without my notebook, I can still cite more unprovable postulates than we have fingers and toes."

"I'm not talking unprovable. I mean dead wrong!"

I stood slack, the shining, crescent-shaped metal dangling from my fingers. "We concisely projected the outcome."

He drew his palm over his lips. "Well, the board members disagree."

"You went to the board?" I blurted.

"Tomorrow. I wanted to tell you first."

"But they've never believed! They'll cancel the project!"

"Yep." Not one to mince words, he.

"You can't!" I cried. "We're so close!"

Merton shook his head and refused conversation, even as I pressed him. He met each protest with silence, which enraged me further---to the point of hefting the solid, icy form and swinging---

It was all so damnably unexpected.

"You killed him!" boomed Jones' voice again from the intercom. I lowered the wrench, overcome by the bitterly irrational thought that a director stood nearby, poised beside his cameraman, motivating us by barking the names of false emotions through a bullhorn.

"You must be close now," I replied, and considered mixing in a bit of the crazed laughter that mad scientists have become so famous for, but there is such a thing as too cliche.

Instead, I began the sequence of toggles to engage the Device---an awkward term that. But considering the full title from our PhD Thesis read "Modulating Temporal Field Displacement Device," I never begrudged the truncation. Another of Merton's ideas.

The final switch snapped off as I threw it. Damn him! I needed to stop with such thoughts. The hair on my arm stood on-end. "Damn---" I cut off mid-sentence, for it was not Merton's specter, but the Field itself producing this anomaly.

Working? And upon the first try!

"You couldn't stop me!" I cried toward the intercom and leapt headlong into the Field.

I must admit, I expected something terribly dramatic as I passed through. Not so. At one moment, I stood within the sterile walls of our laboratory and the next, my shoes threw up dust as I sought footing upon an ancient Israeli hillside.

My design neared fruition! Gaining my bearings, I charged the true prize, residing at the hilltop. I scantly noticed the be-robed and be-tuniced figures I passed, though I have no doubt they stared at my bizarrely futuristic attire.

I crested the hill and halted. There, suspended directly before me: O Knowledge! O Truth most divine!

Three bodies---dead or near death I could not surmise---stretched and hung against intersecting wooden beams. And the centermost---the proof, the answer to mankind's universal question!

Strange, though, what the mind fixes upon in such moments. For it was their hair, the dark locks that all three shared in common, which my gaze attended.

And instead of cheers of victory, I harkened the moans of expiring souls mingled with women weeping, their faces buried in the putrid soil surrounding the centermost cross. Not the sweet smell of success I caught, but in wisps so thick that they were almost visible, the stench of urine and feces mixed with that of decaying flesh.

And in horror---oh, the horror!---I felt the chill of the implement I still mistakenly held---the wrench I'd used to carry out Merton's demise.

The Rich Man and the Poor Man- Short Story

There once was a very rich man. He was so rich, he could have owned many cars, but instead he chose to drive a Ford. He was so rich, he could have owned many computers, but instead he chose an Apple Macintosh. He was so rich, he could have owned many homes---even some in Beverly Hills---but instead he chose to live in East LA.

Because this man was rich, many people in his neighborhood knew him. And also because the man was rich, many people from outside of his neighborhood knew him too. Often, his doorbell would ring, and there on his threshold would stand someone who had come to ask for a donation.

Sometimes when the bell rang, it was a neighbor who had fallen into misfortune. The man would smile, embrace his neighbor, and place a generous sum into their hand.

Sometimes when the bell rang, it was a charity representing the starving children of Tijuana. The man would again smile, embrace the charity worker, and write a generous check.

Sometimes when the bell rang, it was a Jehovah's Witness. Were he like many of us, the man's first instinct would have been to promptly kick them in the butt and shove them back out onto the street. But instead, he once more smiled and embraced the Jehovah's Witness as any other guest upon his threshold.

One evening, when his doorbell was particularly quiet, this man decided to take a stroll. He headed off, idling along wherever the road wound; amongst the quaint homes of his neighborhood, past the threadbare trees lining the park, along walls painted with an array of colorful graffiti tags (remember, this was East LA).

Every once in a while, a car passed, thumping out the latest rage in rap hit, and he soon found himself whistling one of these catchy tunes to himself.

Lost in the tune, he came suddenly upon a homeless bum lying in the midst of the sidewalk. The bum wore a tattered sweater and ripped pants. He had shoes, but they didn't even match. And oh! The smell! I can't even describe that to you here because it would ruin your Thanksgiving dinner.

Well, this unfortunate soul lying on the street saw the man and knew him. Certainly, the bum said to himself. This is the rich man who lives on the lane. Surely he can help me, for he has money at his disposal. But instead of reaching out his hand, the bum was overcome by a sudden bout of shame and hid his face.

The man stood over this tattered figure. He reached down and touched the bum's cheek, but the bum shrank away from him even further. The man's eyes clouded slightly and he cracked a weak smile. Forgetting the tune he once whistled, the man slowly turned and walked back to his home.

Upon hearing the man retreat beyond the corner, the bum opened his eyes and sat up. There at his feet lay a crisp $100.00 dollar bill.

The bum grabbed the money and made a beeline for the nearest 7/11. Like all bums, this one's first thought was to go blow the money on vodka. What a bum!

But, before he entered the store, he remembered the compassion of the man's touch. This inspired him, and the bum decided then and there to turn his life around. The bum promptly bummed two dimes off an old lady (pay phones don't take hundreds). "Well." the lady replied. "You ain't gonna spend this on alcohol?" The bum shook his head and stuck the money into the slot of the nearest telephone.

His broker answered and the bum said, "Hundred dollars. Invest it all in that company with the nerdy looking CEO. Microsoft!"

Since this was, as it turns out, the late-1980s, it took only a short while before the stock skyrocketed. Yes, good can come of evil after all---especially when you're working the stock market---and the bum found himself very well off indeed.

Back in East LA the years passed slowly. The generous man kept to life much as usual---taking evening strolls, whistling rap tunes, answering his door.

One day in particular, his doorbell rang, and there stood a finely dressed gentleman in a three piece suit. Uh oh, the man thought. Jehovah's Witness. But before he could do anything, his guest spoke.

"You're the rich man, aren't you?" his guest asked.

"What can I do for you?" the man responded automatically, so accustomed to being asked for things.

"It is not what you can do for me," answered his guest. "But what you have already done."

"What have I done for you?" the man asked in surprise.

"You've given me a second chance at life. Why, with your generous gift, I was able to invest the money and pull myself out of my poverty. I no longer wallow in the grime and gutters, but I walk along crowded sidewalks with my head held high. I have you to thank for that."

Suddenly, the man recognized his guest. It was the old bum who'd been lying in the street. The man replied, "What I gave you, you did not ask for. I gave it simply because I saw you there and loved you. I would have given it to anyone in your position."

"All the more reason to come and thank you," his guest said.

"But I am rich," replied the man. "I have many gifts to give. I don't expect anything in return."

"Good," his guest said with a nod. "Because I don't have anything to offer in return---whatever I have, you gave to me. All I wanted to do was come and thank you."

The man stared as his guest reached out and took him into an embrace. It was the same gesture the man had so often offered to those at his door, yet this was the first time someone had offered it back.

Tears filled the man's eyes as his guest, a lowly bum off the street, held him in the most satisfying embrace he had ever received. 

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WORLD4FREE BLOGS: The Emperor - Tarot Card Meaning

WORLD4FREE BLOGS: The Emperor - Tarot Card Meaning: THE EMPEROR Keywords:  taking action, responsibility, competence, leadership! Astrological Correspondence:  Aries As the complem...

A Simple Luck Spell: A penny for Luck

A simple but effective luck spell, an old gypsy spell that may have a thing or two to do with the reknown "luck of the Irish."

You don't need a wand or any paraphenalia, all you need is a penny for luck - and a little bit of magic :-)A Simple Luck Spell:

A Penny For Luck

This is a really simple luck spell, an old gypsy spell, and one of those spells that needs very few ingredients, in fact just the one, a penny.

A penny is the lowest denomination in coins your country has; the smallest coin, in other words.

It becomes not its face value, but the ritual object of the disc or coin which is all about earthly success, material wealth, making money.

And this Penny For Luck spell is really easy to do but do put good intention to it and be consciously aware that you are doing magic when you do this.

It is intention that changes the simple humble penny into a ritual object that is used in casting this easy luck spell.

Here's what to do.

	When you are out and about in the World, take a penny out of your pocket.
	Hold it in your hand to your heart for a moment to help you centre and raise energy for the spell (real magic energy comes from the heart and the soul!).
	Move your hand with the penny in it up to your Third Eye point (where the Indian ladies have their dot!). Think and say in your mind at the same time, "A Penny For Luck!" If you can say it out aloud at the same time as well, so much the better.
	Now kiss the hand that holds the penny and ...
	... "give the penny to the fairies for luck" - throw it in a fountain, flip it into the grass, leave it on a fence post, by the side of the road, on a windowsill, on a tree branch, wherever there seems to be a good place to put the lucky penny.
	Then walk away and don't look back.

This is a great spell for beginners, and to not only bring more luck into your life, but also to make the world a more magical place. It is said that those who find the penny, now or in a hundred years from now, will also experience good fortune as a result.

You can bless a penny in the same way and leave it in the home of someone you want to create better luck for. Don't tell them you did it or the spell is broken and as before, don't turn back.

Be lucky, be blessed!

i am not happy in life.Why?

I used to spend long nights wide awake, wandering around our huge house, wondering what I was missing in my life. I blamed myself for feeling this way. How could I be ungrateful when I had it all—a beautiful family, an amazing career in journalism and politics, a successful business, and even the perfect house (white picket fence included)?

I grew up with the conviction that my studies, my job, and my perfect future family would make me happy. I gave my all to becoming happy and successful. I made sure to be the best girlfriend, the best mom, and the best daughter I could be. I lived like a robot, trying hard to live up to my own and others’ expectations

My story is not unique. We live in a world filled with demands and expectations—what’s right and wrong, good and bad, what will show success and not failure. There are many voices telling us what to wear, what to eat, how to exercise, whom to marry, and what we should achieve. Even our bodies are great targets for judgment. In our quest to fit in and do the right thing, we create stress, anxiety, exhaustion, and depression. Not feeling great, or even well, has become the norm for many.

Then I made an amazing discovery: I realized I had been living someone else’s life. Other people’s. Society’s. My family’s. Anyone's but my own.

What was missing in my life wasn’t another promotion, a higher salary, or a more perfect man. What was missing was me.

Today I no longer try to fit in or be perfect. I had lived so much life based on what other people expected that I didn’t even know what was true for me anymore. 

Sound familiar? Here are five questions that I ask daily to create a life where I’m included—a life that's different, more joyful, and vibrant. .

Create the Life You Really Want

1. Am I acknowledging myself? 

Most people look for someone else to acknowledge them when they’re not acknowledging themselves. In the past, what I really longed for was to be seen. To be validated. Today I know that only I—no one else—can give myself a sense of worth. Acknowledging that opens up the magical place I knew as a little girl, the magical place where everything is possible, because everything I need is within me.

It also helps to actively choose to see what’s beautiful and amazing instead of what’s missing and wrong. When you wake up, see the sunlight streaming through the window, not the wallpaper that needs fixing. When the familiar voice in your head says there’s something wrong with you or that you’re not good enough, just say to yourself, "Stop!" Then tell yourself, "I’m brilliant, just the way I am." Be your own cheerleader. 

2. What do I truly want to do?

Ask yourself: If I were to include myself and my desires in my choices, what would I choose? Do I want to travel the world? Do I want to live out in the suburbs or move into the city? Do I want to become a politician or a volunteer in Ghana? Only you know what is true for you. Start asking questions to access your knowing.

Not sure whether to accept that job offer? Imagine being at that job. Being in that office or gym or classroom. Do you feel light or heavy? If you feel heavy within yourself, you know that job isn’t right for you or that something needs to change before it is. You don’t need to start practicing this technique with something as big as a career change. Start with small decisions—what movie to see, what to eat for dinner, whom to hang out with over the weekend.

3. Who says that's true? 

We’re all spiritually, emotionally, and physically aware beings. We pick up stuff from the world around us—and the result is that many of our thoughts, feelings, and emotions aren’t our own. Instead we pick them up in different conversations, situations, and motivations from those around us.

If you find yourself buying into a point of view that doesn’t feel right, ask yourself: Is this point of view mine? Did I buy into it somewhere along the line? Am I choosing what’s true for me or what everyone else is choosing? In the movie Runaway Bride, there’s a breakfast scene in which Richard Gere asks Julia Roberts what kind of eggs she likes. Her response: “Whatever you're having.” With each of her three former fiancés, their favorite eggs had been her favorite eggs. Have you ever asked yourself what kind of eggs you really like?

4. What's not working in my life?

Cut out those things that aren't working—and add the things and the people that make you happy. Sign up for that yoga class you never seem to have time for. Set aside a night to have dinner with friends who make you smile. Paint your office. Join Toastmasters. Go out dancing. Book that trip you've always wanted to go on. Shake things up!

Most of us keep creating our lives more or less within our comfort zone. Repeating slightly different versions of past choices feels familiar and helps us predict the outcome. Even though this often means that we recreate undesirable and destructive situations, we imagine that stepping out of our comfort zone to try something new must be worse. What would you choose if you knew that was a lie?

5. What if there’s nothing wrong with me?

Instead of judging your body because you think it’s not thin enough to fit media-set expectations, try expressing your gratitude for its wisdom and its beauty, for all it’s done for you, for how it’s carried you through your life and still does.

Instead of judging yourself for being foolish, you might congratulate yourself for daring to choose something different, something you feel is right.

If you find yourself wanting to switch career paths—to leave that perfect job for a startup or one that pays less but will make you happier—instead of judging yourself for being foolish, you might congratulate yourself for daring to choose something different, something you feel is right.

The Bottom Line

Understanding how the different points of view around you become the filters through which you see and create your life opens a space where you can start looking at them and asking if they serve you. If they don’t, why keep them? They’re not you. You are. 

If only you and your point of view creates your reality, then who are you? What can you create? What is possible for you? I invite you to take hold of your life and your future. Start living today for you! You’ll be amazed at what unfolds. 

This is a guest post written by Lisa Henriksson, author of  I Was Supposed to Be Happy. To learn more about Henriksson, visit her website. 

Signs of a good friend

When you read this list, not only think about your current friends, ask yourself if you're being a good friend to them:

"Are You My Friend? 
1. You give me time
2. You listen to me - and you listen without making me feel judged
3. You're quick to remind me that I have strengths
4. You help me heal when I'm hurting
5. You tell me the truth when it will help me; you don't tell me the truth when it won't help me
6. You show me by your demeanor, tone, and smile that it's important to you that I feel secure, comfortable, at ease
7. You show me that you're sorry when you hurt my feelings; you allow me to show you that I'm sorry when I hurt your feelings
8. You don't abuse me. EVER. You make sure that I know you seek to protect me.
9. You make small surprises for me
10. You find words that support the best that is in me
11. You let me cry when I need to
12. You encourage me to tell the truth to you and to admit when I'm afraid When you read this list, not only think about your current friends, ask yourself if you're being a good friend to them:

While stock markets investment - 3users_feedbacks

While stock markets investment in not every man''s a cup of tea as it involves some deep knowledge and understanding along with patience. One has to be sure in the time frame of investment and should have to hold and reinvest capacity. While trade bills provide all the options and act as a financial adviser, it''s important to understand the exit level and reinvesting parameters.

Before going for stock trading, you must look for the helpful tips and go through its rules as well. Choosing the right platform is the first thing that you must do. Searching for the right one cannot be a daunting as Tradebulls is here, which can lead you towards the beneficial outcomes.

Very good Slideshow. Investment is for long term wealth creation. Trading is altogether different game. I used to trade in MCX Gold and Silver. There is this expert advisory called Square India Advisory Private Limited who provides premium buy and sell tips in MCX Gold and Silver. They assure a minimum profit of 10k and a small stop loss range.

I want to die

Scorpio Tatto

The Emperor - Tarot Card Meaning

THE EMPEROR

Keywords: taking action, responsibility, competence, leadership!

Astrological Correspondence: Aries

As the complement to the Empress, the Emperor represents the father figure, reigning through wisdom, order, authority, power, and control. Thus he embodies the material world, structure, and order, and balances the Empress' abundance and pure instinct. His stable leadership and authority are not to be questioned. The Emperor reminds us that rational thought, willpower, and fearlessness yield recognition and overall achievement. Through strength he creates and builds material things, families, and communities. He gives them structure, and projects are put on a solid foundation. On an emotional level this card symbolizes the confirming of established feelings, tightening of links among beings, and self-respect. In a negative situation this card can mean despotism, tyranny, self-righteousness, and hampering of any progress.

Steps to impress your wife

We had an arranged marriage a month back,i really love her,but still everything's a bit normal,i give her respect she gives me respect,none of that romance in the movies,etc.she told that the marriage was only  her consent,and it is a bit too formal,how do i impress her and have some great partner,we agreed that we could have kids after few months when we could get to know each other properly

• Wine and dine with her frequently – A husband needs to spend time with his wife more. He may be busy with his official work, but yet he needs to take time off and take her out for dinner. A romantic candle dinner would keep the love flame alive.
• Take interest in her hobbies – A wife likes it when her husband shows keen interest in how she spends her time at home. The husband needs to show interest in her hobbies and if possible participate in them.
• Spend time with the children – A wife after all has devoted her precious time in the upbringing of the children. She naturally would like it if her husband also took time off and spent it with the children. The husband needs to make her feel that he is also shouldering the responsibility of bringing up the children.
• Show interest in her friends – A wife spends her free time with her friends. She would like it if her husband was also interested in her association with her friends. He is expected to respect her friends and treat them well.
• Socializing – A husband needs to take his wife to social get-togethers and not make her feel alienated by leaving her at home. Even at official gatherings, he can take his wife along with him.
• Buy gifts – Buying the appropriate gift for the wife requires much time and effort, which the husband should not overlook. A birthday gift, a marriage anniversary surprise party can do wonders to make a wife come closer to the husband.
• Respect her family members – A wife cares about her family, be it her brother, sister or parents. A husband needs to be careful to avoid hurting her feelings by insulting any of her family members.
• Go on holiday – It is important for the husband to spend his precious moments with his wife. A summer trip to the Bahamas or Hawaii sounds very exciting. A wife will be thrilled to spend time with her children and husband, away from her daily chores.
• Help her with the daily chores – despite his pressures at work, it would be nice if the husband took some time out and helped his wife with her daily chores in the house. The wife may feel bored doing them. She would appreciate the gesture extended by her husband as a thought of love and affection for her.
• Not forgetting the marriage anniversary date – A husband who remembers his marriage anniversary date is well received by a wife. After all, she would feel that he is still full of same loving concern for her as he was on her first date with him.

Steps to impress your husband

If you want to learn how you can impress your husband, you should first know these four types of chemical bondings. First and foremost is physical chemistry that generates arousal and desire between you two. Second is emotional chemistry that generates care, trust and feeling of attraction. Third one is, mental chemistry that is required to generate receptivity and interest. Fourth and last one is spiritual chemistry that opens your heart and creates love, appreciation and respect. Things you should know if you're wondering how to impress husband are discussed in this article to make your life more romantic.If you want to learn how you can impress your husband, you should first know these four types of chemical bondings. First and foremost is physical chemistry that generates arousal and desire between you two. Second is emotional chemistry that generates care, trust and feeling of attraction. Third one is, mental chemistry that is required to generate receptivity and interest. Fourth and last one is spiritual chemistry that opens your heart and creates love, appreciation and respect. Things you should know if you're wondering how to impress husband are discussed in this article to make your life more romantic.

1. Show that you care

Every single day, in some small way, show your husband just how much he means to you. Tell him you love him, when he’s sick, take care of him like a little child, pack his lunchbox, hug him often and kiss him like you can’t get enough. Knowing that and feeling like he’s the object of your affection will make him feel like a king and want to always have you as his queen.

2. His happiness is important

When a woman indicates to her husband that his happiness is of paramount importance to her, it makes him feel very lucky to have her in his life. Having a surprise party on his birthday, cooking his favorite meals, buying him tickets to his favorite rock show, or even buying a gift for his mother (even if you don’t get along) because his happiness is what matters to you, only serves to make a woman more attractive to her husband.

3. Find humor/ laugh together

Laughter, as always, keeps a relationship alive. If a woman has the ability to find humor in everyday situations and can share a few laughs with her partner, it goes a long way towards retaining the spark in a relationship and increasing her allure to her partner.

4. Share interests

Instead of nagging him endlessly about tinkering around with electrical gadgets or wondering what is so fascinating about that dumb soccer match - join him in his fun. Show an interest in things that fascinate him, so that he wants to share them with you and doesn’t have to feel guilty about his passions, but can enjoy them with unadulterated pleasure. Quite often, when it comes to their passions, men are little boys in big bodies. And just like kids, they have to be given a little attention and should be pandered to occasionally.

5. Make the first move

Don’t always wait for him to initiate sex. Tease and tantalize him and make the first move every little while. Your partner is probably preoccupied with boardroom tactics so it’s about time you took over the bedroom maneuvers.

6. Take care of your appearance

Spend a little time – and money – on taking care of your appearance. We’re not talking cosmetic surgery here. Just a little pampering and beauty treatment. Shape your eyebrows or get a facial, a French manicure or a bikini line wax (or even a Brazilian one if you’re feeling adventurous). Don’t feel guilty for spending on yourself occasionally and that you have to justify it. Feeling good about yourself and having your husband’s full attention on you is reason enough! You can get beauty products of major brand names like Revlon and Estee Laudor at a substantial discount online.

7. Buy something just for him

Occasionally buy a sexy negligee or a frothy bit of lingerie and let him know you did it with him in mind. It will serve the dual purpose of stimulating his visual (and other) senses, and make him happy knowing you did it just for him.

8. Maintain yourself

If you can, follow some kind of a fitness regime. It doesn’t have to be rigorous exercise, or if you can’t make the time for it, even the gym. Try and carve out at least 20-30 minutes for a brisk walk that will rejuvenate your senses and keep you in shape. You don’t have to look the way you did when you married him, he won’t mind a little more of you to love, but you can try and ensure you don’t just let yourself go.

If you can’t make the time to exercise, try and maintain a healthy diet and cut back on a few calories. Maintaining yourself physically also contributes to your mental health, sense of self-esteem and even to a more active sex life, which is equally important in a good marriage.

9. Ask for his opinion

When you’re buying an outfit or debating on what to wear, get his take on it. Let him know you value his opinion and would like to wear something that pleases him. Pander to his taste and cater to his little fancies, at least once in a while, and he will reward you with an admiring glance and an approving smile.

10. Don’t get complacent

It is important not to get too laidback and lounge around all day in pajamas or a nightie have an unkempt look. That doesn’t mean you have to perform household duties looking like a glam doll. Before you get caught up with the chores of the day or sprucing up the house, take some time to freshen up and make yourself feel good. If you’re a stay-at-home mom, don’t greet your husband, when he comes home, with your youngest kid's spit-up decorating your blouse. Take the time to shower and look fresh for him when he comes home to you.

Steps to Impress your boyfriend

Whether you're just starting a relationship, or looking to pique your long-term partner's interest, there are several ways to catch your boyfriend's eye and turn his head. Sure, every guy is different and will have his own personal set of likes and dislikes, but these simple gestures can help you make a big impression on your boy and capture his heart.

1. Manage some of his errands

Can you imagine what a smile you’ll bring on your boyfriend’s face if he came back home from work one day to find out that all his outstanding utility bills had been paid? But wait, we are not asking you to pay them from your account. You can impress your boyfriend by saying, “Honey, I’ve put together all your outstanding utility bills which total to $1700. Why don’t you give me the cash and I will manage the rest?” Do you see what we mean? This was just one example. Every man has a pile of such outstanding errands on the back of his mind which has been procrastinated over time. Offer some help and impress your boyfriend.

2. Reach your goals

Do you know why we are suggesting this? Because men are impressed by successful women. Being successful does not always mean having a great career. Here we are talking about the goals that you set for yourself. It can be as simple as ‘I want to be debt free in 3 months’ or ‘I want to lose 5 pounds over the next 2 months’ or ‘I’m going to save up to buy that dress I’ve always wanted’. You can impress your boyfriend by showing him that you too can set and achieve goals.

3. Talk about joint finances

We know this may sound boring, but all men like it when their girlfriends show concern about money matters. So the next time he says, “’Honey, let me buy you that expensive bag you’ve always wanted”, you can reply by saying, “Not right now darling. I’ve made a list of all the purchases you’ve made for me and I think it is time to cut down on our expenditure. Why not save some money for a trip that we can take later?” Your boyfriend will be very impressed.

4. Dress well

What would you say if we asked you, “What will you wear if your boyfriend called you right now and asked you to go out for a movie in 2 hours?” Would you just put on your favorite denims and a top? If you said yes, let us ask you another question. “Would you have dressed like this on your first few dates when you wanted to impress your boyfriend?” Do you see our point now? Dressing well to impress your boyfriend will never go out of vogue. He will like it if you look great when you go out with him. You are his eye candy after all, aren’t you?

5. Be there when he needs you

You can impress your boyfriend by tending to his needs. Here is a classic situation for you. Let’s suppose for a minute that you were going to go out to have dinner at a fancy restaurant with your boyfriend. You had to make reservations 3 months in advance. However, your boyfriend came back from work with a bad attitude and was fearful that he would lose his job the very next day. Would you still want him to take you out for dinner or would you say, “What happened, Honey? Let’s talk about it tonight. The dinner can happen any time later”? If you picked option 2, we are impressed and your boyfriend will be too. Do you see the point we are trying to drive home? Impress your boyfriend by showing that you will always be there when he needs you.