http://www.spanishdict.com/translation
Written in reverse, with vowels exchanged;
NASIL
A=e
E=i
I=o
O=u
U=a
NASIL FONTS:
http://www.acondia.com/fonts/assorted/index.html
Thank you for taking the time to visit; enjoy the posts...
Nasil
http://www.spanishdict.com/translation
Written in reverse, with vowels exchanged;
NASIL
A=e
E=i
I=o
O=u
U=a
NASIL FONTS:
http://www.acondia.com/fonts/assorted/index.html
THE OBIT
[Apartment 409]
A Short Story by
David DeLane Snow
He had always joked that he read the obits just to make sure he didn’t read his own name in the paper; strange thing was - that morning his name was in there and it suddenly didn’t feel like a joke. His light headedness came into clear telescoping focus. Whirling thoughts of who in the world would have gone to such lengths to pay for such a prank ran through his mind. Funny. A lot of names came to him but none stuck for long as his interest pulled him back into a second reading of the article.
Other than the lower case typo of his middle initial, Thomas freaked at the brief but concise details of his short life. For starters thirty six was too young to die, and secondly - how could he be dead?
Looking up from the newspaper it suddenly dawned on him that he was standing in a wholly different apartment. It was the same tiny one bedroom economy, but the furnishings and décor were obviously not his own. He now had a 42” flat screen, a huge 55 gallon aquarium took up space along one side of the wall; and two black recliners were lit by one of those nude figure lamps he had always wanted to buy. The walls were hung with photos of family members he had never met before, and inspection of the bedroom quickly let him know that there was defiantly a female presence about. Thomas relished the idea of being a bachelor, so the ruffled skirt about the bed was almost a bigger jolt than reading of his own demise.
Feeling like he had just woken up in someone else’s home, Thomas went outside to the patio. The numbers on the front door still said 409 and the complex area was the same, with the tennis court to the right and parking lot on his left. Another wave of panic rolled over him as he stood in his vacant spot wondering where his Jeep was.
It was then that Thomas noticed a younger couple laden with groceries heading for his apartment, fumbling for their keys. Going over to them he called out, “Excuse me.”
The young man in his mid twenties and curly brown hair turned about in reply, “Yes sir?”
Wondering what he was going to say, Thomas blurted out, “How long have you been living here?”
The thin brunette smiled, “We got married yesterday and moved in two weeks ago.”
“I’m Sergio and this is Rebecca.”
Extending his hand to return the shake, “I’m - Thomas Reed. I use to live here - awhile back.”
Their smiles changed with a look of sympathy as Sergio conveyed his condolences, “Ah - sorry to hear about your friend. We were told someone had passed away in the apartment ‘bout a month ago.” Rebecca entered through the door leaving the two men on the patio. Thomas couldn’t help his side glance inside. “Were you close?” Asked the new tenant.
“Uh, yeah, yeah we were very close - friends, and it was a shock.” Stammered Thomas.
“You want to come in for a glass of tea?” Rebecca invitingly asked after having dropped off her load of groceries on the counter top. Sergio’s eyes bounced between his new bride and the stranger, questioning Thomas’ awkward pause, “Sure come on in, you can tell us about your friend.”
Catching himself staring wide eyed passed Rebecca, Thomas blushed, “Oh, thanks.” Then edged back into his old apartment.
{Still working on this one...}
THE HAIR CUT
[APARTMENT 123]
Beethoven Adolf Bryan woke up in a panic. Beethoven was named by his schizophrenic music loving mother, and his bi-polar history-buff father; needless to say he went by Bryan. Bryan had scrambled headedly gotten up that morning thinking he was running late, when in fact it was his day off.
Three weeks ago he had finally gotten around to replacing the cracked mirror on the cabinet door above his toilet. He had mirrors of every kind, shape and size on every wall in his small, heavily cluttered one bedroom apartment. There was just something about the illusion of a larger place that appealed to him, besides, the idea of a different world possibly lurking on the other side of the glass was an intriguing idea as well.
On that morning as he took a leak, the image staring back must have surely been from the world on the other-side because it was not his own. How could it be? With those overly wild eye brows and uncombed bushy tuff of scariness staring back at him were of someone who had gotten old and out of shape. Bryan returned a grimace to the image. His thoughts snapped.
At the mall’s Supper Cuts a young lady with a huge bust and tiny body attempted to turn Bryan into one of the celebrity want a bees in the photos framed beside the mirror that held the image of a man draped and ready to be sheared or executed. As the overly top heavy girl worked on her captive the image slowly evolved into a thick lipped, glazed-eyed, chubby faced man whose thinly, water-down bangs shouted, “Look at me world, I’m a freaken idiot!”
That’s when he snapped. Politely thanking and paying the anorexic cashier, Bryan left. Sat outside the shop nonchalantly looking at magazines and waited until the girl who had fleeced him got off work. He would follow her home, go through her back-ally garbage and learn all her secrets, discover who her friends were and collect their garbage as well. After the eighteen bags had been dumped on Thin Girl’s front porch, Bryan would leave a “just-as-polite” note reminding her of the cost for butchering someone’s hair.
After he had finished peeing, Bryan realized he had the day off and decided to go back to bed and dream of getting Thin Girl’s phone number instead.
The Apes are coming! IT BEGINS!!!!
Still in the Hospital...
For some reason, though the hospital is only a year old we were told they were shutting a wing down; she was moved in her bed to two then three other rooms. Staff were moved about as well. LOL crazy.
Now waiting, probably, until after the Independence Holiday - she'll be able to go home. I went to the apartment to pick up some items and check on our pets, but with all the things in the world we've collected about ourselves it didn't feel like home with Alice not being there. As bad and the food, small the area, and lacking of personal effects - the hospital felt like "home" because of her presence.
STORY PREVIEW...
INSTITUTIONAL ME
A short story by
David DeLane Snow
The tall, wiry haired man, named Douglas had both outstretched arms pressing against the window as he was licking the glass, and giggling happily to himself. Suddenly he turned around and began violently screaming bloody murder, jumping up and down, waving both hands wildly in the air for no apparent reason.
“Douglas stop that!” Yelled a staff from across the room.
Then uncharacteristically, the client spoke out, “Eerey yehaa Ct-oot!”
“Shut it up, Douglas, now!” Admonished another staff who came running out of the dinning area, adjacent to the long hallway off the dayroom area. The first staff threw him unexpectedly to the ground binding his flying arms underneath him, while the other laid across his legs.
“Calm down, Douglas - and damn it, you know what that means!” Said Thomas, who bore across the pinned man’s shoulders.
“He probably thought that he saw you-know-who’s car.” Robert said as he
restrained the limp legs.
“Jason’s?” asked Thomas.
“Man, let him up.” Which they both did, assisting Douglas to his feet with earnest sincerity, then Robert injected, “Gessh, I’d have a behavior episode too if I saw him coming in this early.” They both laughed, then turned and began looking out the window with the glass-licking client in the middle, just to make sure it wasn’t a black Ford pickup after all.
I don’t know if I can last through the weekend. Five days had been tough enough to endure. Getting up at six o’clock in the morning after tossing and turning; chasing bits of sleep in between the screams and slamming doors of the night shift were beginning to wear on me. With a room mate like Douglas Edgar Milford; who laid astride his over-sized teddy bear as thirty other pair of stuffed animal eyes looked on in horror wondering when they would be humped next, had me on guard as well...
REMEMBER WHEN
(Apartment 106)
By
David DeLaine Snow
Of all the Hollywood moments on film or the idealistic wishful thinking of tradition, they would always have the reality of their cherished memories.
He recalled how they first met. She was a beautiful young woman no more that 19 years old. She was walking from the back of the store to the front counter. A good looking young man was obviously eagerly waiting for her to be his casher. It was a strange metaphysics shop filled with all sort of oddities, stocked with the usual fair of scented candles, wind chimes and tarot cards, skulls and scarves. The youthful vixen wore a vale like purple dress, trying for that gypsy look - with the oversized hooped ear rings, bangles too many on her left wrist and rings galore on both hands. With a shy appearance that said look at me but don’t overly stare; she glanced at the young man, but let the other brunette clerk take over in her stead. The bait and switch worked for it made the eager male customer want to strike up a conversation with the red head all the more. What was her name? He barely made out the plastic name tag. That perfume? Her eyes. They - they were beautiful and he could not soak them in enough.
Sally, how could he forget a name like that, never in a million years, nor when they first met over rice and baked beans in the service line of his church’s Fellowship Hall. How he accidentally bumped into her, ruining her Easter dress with his weak red punch. Yet after the clean up she had hardly remembered it at all because of how they had gotten lost in conversation over their forgotten meal and each others eyes.
Really, they had met on their way to a friend’s house. A group had come by a week after his eighteenth birthday; in a friend of a friend’s old beat up ford pickup to be exact. As he piled into the bed of the truck along with the other gaggle of smiling wind blown faces, the young man locked in on her face. Brilliantly lit eyes, whose slightly round facial features were framed by an auburn Farah Fawcett hairstyle of the day. Softy pouting full lips that just beckon to be kissed, yeah that was his first thought of her grin in his direction. She turned out to be the younger sister of a newly made friend of a friend, but at that moment the young man just wanted to know her name. She seemed to have brushed him off into forgetfulness after that first glance, but for him it was love at first sight and he meant for her to know it too. The young man had taken over one of his dearest friend’s girlfriends, but this one here would be his the first time around. There was just something undeniably fascinating about her eyes, and that smile -- he could not get out of his mind. How could he have ever guessed that they would have gotten married and it would last over forty wondrous years.
Her father had offered him a Cuban cigar in the hospital’s waiting room, and as a gift to him for the arrival of the new granddaughter, a fancy promotion as head salesman at his radio station.
Sally never knew her father because he had never been in her life, but her mother and the rest of her extended family of uncles and aunts were there eagerly awaiting the birth of her first child, with balloons and presents to boot.
Actually, it had only been her young nineteen year old husband and just barely a handful to family that joyously greeted their red faced-pointed ear daughter into the world in that small town’s hospital. Taking their new bundle of love home for the first time was scary as hell for him, yet seeing the sheer delight in his young wife’s eyes and those full smiling lips made all the anxiety of how to deal with it all just melt away. Never was there ever a happier day for the two of them as that day when they began their lives so many years ago.
Then again there was the time he had surprised her with a new puppy to cheer her up from having lost her job as a secretary.
Sally had never worked outside the home before, well other than being a nursery worker in the local church they attended. But seeing her receive that singing telegram lit up her face more than he had ever seen.
Seriously, even though he had intended to a thousand times over he had never had flowers delivered to her at home. But seeing her glow at their daughter’s wedding rivaled that of her birth, and the joy with which she radiated.
The old man heard an ambulance round the bend entering the apartment complex’s maze of parking lots. Of all the regrets he had in not making her life better was that of losing her and not being able to have her longer in his life. As he slowly rose off the park bench, and unhurriedly began walking home, he felt content beyond fulfilled - though a little tired. The day was quiet as if someone had turned off all the sound in the world but crying.
Presently, standing outside the faded wood banister of their patio, the old man watched as the coroner loaded the covered body into his station wagon from the sidewalk he himself had paced a thousand times over on his way to work.
The crying that came from beyond the opened door of his own apartment was a deep sobbing gasp. A horrific mournful weeping no man wishes to ever hear from his wife. How would she make it on her own now that he had passed away? He smiled at seeing his daughter and her family gathered about, tough as it was, she would be alright.
***
OVER AGAIN
(Apartment 92)
By
David DeLane Snow
Even after the neurologist had told his wife, Sally that he was brain dead, and had drifted off into a coma after having aspirated on his breakfast orange juice, Dan was somehow aware of everything around him. It was as if he had been standing in the corner of the room watching every gory detail to the bitter end, like some damn spectator.
Then, it happened. Just moments after Dan’s cardiologist and his two student nurses departed through the ICU’s sliding glass door, Sally froze where she stood at the foot of the bed. Aghast, in-between excitement and total horror, his wife was speechless. With lightening speed, Dan rose up on both elbows, leaned forward toward his wife’s direction and pulled the breathing tube out of his mouth in one swift motion. Abruptly coming out of his long coma, with eyes wide open, hoarsely told Sally, “To do it all over again --.”
Suddenly every alarm rang out along with his screaming wife as a medical team ran in, witnessing his flat lined computer screen. A second later they began to comfort the DNR’s newly pronounced widow.
A black, silencing moment later everything changed.
Dan found himself totally aware of everything that had just transpired at the moment he died, and yet, somehow -- afterwards as well -- almost. Yet the shock of his present state took him half a moment longer to recover.
Seeing Sally standing in her regular spot behind the teller’s counter of The Second National Bank immediately brought a smile to his now twenty-one year old face. Realizing that this was the very day they were to meet for the first time in their lives, and that a month later he would propose marriage to her made Daniel’s perfect brain race. Being the fourth person in line gave him enough time to compose himself, and figure out why he would have gone back in time to this very moment baffled him tremendously. For he had had no regrets whatsoever about his life with Sally.
Suddenly, his inner thoughts were interrupted as Dan turned about to respond to the tapping on his shoulder. A beautiful, slightly older than him, brunette stood behind him all dressed in black. Aggressively shoving an automatic weapon into his hands, she yelled, “Take it and get to work buddy.”
From that breath onward everything that followed was a complete blur: the chaos of gunfire, people dropping, Sally’s blood splattered against the back wall, the maze of police vehicles and lights, ever changing court dates, and the prison experience itself. As he lay there, all stretched out on the padded gurney, with an audience just beyond the bullet proof, wire re-enforced windows, Dan numbly watched in slow motion as the fluid of his execution edged its way up the tube entering his left arm. A moment later the guard standing next to the controls heard the prisoner say, “To do it all over again.”
Fighting against the waves as more loomed off in the distance, threatening to silence his gasping calls for help, Daniel saw Sally leaning over the side of their blue and white yacht. Holding her usual Long Island Iced-Tea, she was laughingly scolding him to stop his horse play so far in the open waters of the ocean. Suddenly, shouting and pointing to a fin slicing its way through the overpowering currents several yards beyond his bobbing head, they both screamed in unison. Bathed with thoughts of scenes from the movie Jaws, Dan spat out salt water while trying to say, “To do it all over again.” Out of a flash of red came a new realization.
Two men sitting under a covered bus stop grimaced a half smile to one another as a light drizzle of rain began to pour. Growing a little concerned that maybe his bus-stop companion was from loony Ville, the young man replied to the older gentleman as his looked at his watch again, “Wow, man. What in the world did you do to deserve all that?”
Interrupting the multiple stories of his fantastic life, Daniel O`Ryan stood up and cautiously approached the curb so as to hail a yellow cab. His worn expression answered back to his restless companion, “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you, son.”
Suddenly, without warning the young man jerked back in shock as a FedEx truck jumped the curbed hitting the old man throwing him aside into the oncoming traffic like a discarded rag doll.
As the medical team quietly worked around them, turning off the life support machines, the Psychiatric Hospital’s Chaplain spoke softly to Sally as comforting as his could, “You know, my child only The Father knows the true heart of man.” Then, as the priest was making the sign of the cross over her husband's covered body, Sally slowly walked out of the room heading for her children and their families who waited down the hall.
The New and Improved Me
Vannah's CAR SHOW
Here is a video I put together. My wife, Alice was ill and wasn't able to attend, so I wanted to pieced together a few little raw pics of the event for her to enjoy. Our Grand daughter, Savannah and her friend, Mya made some "box" cars and were in a show with their peers. Really cute memories. Everyone did a great job!!!
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