Thursday, December 11, 2008

December Dandelions

Miss Lee awoke to the sound of gunshots.

She pulled the covers from over her head, blinking eyes at the hazy light streaming through the blind, the drapes, and an old blue blanket hanging over the window. Even through all this, the sun brightened the room enough for her to read the alarm clock. 7:15am. Outside, another series of explosions sounded. Pop-pop-pop-pop. The drunk amateur must have missed his target and now he peppered the woods hoping to hit anything. Somewhere, hidden deep among the brambly thickets, safe from any streaking black pellets, deer had to be laughing at the hunter.

Miss Lee wiped the sleep from her eyes and sat up, thinking of the tasks she had to do today. Her boss-lady was on a three-week vacation, which meant Miss Lee was on a three-week vacation. There was not much to do during the winter months . . . especially in the wedding business. A slow downtime despite the struggling economy (as always) with all the invoices finished, the contracts signed, and the meetings scheduled for warmer temperatures.

A faint smile dotted Miss Lee’s face. She looked forward to having these three weeks without the boss-lady around who would hound her every move. Three weeks without the boss-lady’s snarky comments over the work she wanted done in a certain way (her way) or she would believe everything would end up wrong - unless it was done right, in which case the boss-lady would take all the credit as if she had mentally controlled her worker from the start. It felt like a lifetime before her return. Then, with her return, Miss Lee would return to those dismal days.

Fingers shook as Miss Lee rubbed her face and listened to the faint noises on the roof. Rain. It rained outside. The world cried this morning. She would allow the world to have its time instead of shedding her tears. The world had more troubles along with the people who cried along with the rain. Miss Lee would let the world have this sad time to itself.

The nightgown flew from her shoulders and the sweat clothes took their place over her body. Miss Lee hurried downstairs to start the pot of morning tea. On her way to the kitchen, her hand reached up and snagged a tissue to blow her stuffed nose lightly. Allergies. She tossed the used tissue into the trash, then backtracked and fished the crumpled ball out. The edges folded open as Miss Lee saw the spots of red. Blood. Only two spots marked the soft white paper. Today would be a good day for her.

The tissue returned to its place in the trash as Miss Lee started the pot of tea. She debated on food - forever a debate - with it not so much as what food did Miss Lee want to eat today but, rather, did she feel like eating any food today? She never experienced hunger pangs with her stomach grumbling and growling for sustenance. Often the idea of “eating” dwelled too far back in her thoughts to bother doing the task.

Would she eat today? Perhaps Miss Lee should make a call to the bookies in Las Vegas to find out her odds.


She slipped on her boots and coat. The rain dripped onto her hood as she made her way around to the front door of the house. She still waited for a package to arrive; a music CD she had ordered online using a gift certificate. A present to herself this year, she would find the prettiest gift-wrap and decorate the CD. Miss Lee would resist the urge to open the gift. Yet she had weak willpower. She did not need the Las Vegas bookies telling her that she would unwrap this early Christmas present within two minutes, as she would burn the music onto her Ipod.

Rain soaked the concrete steps. Old autumn leaves curled alongside the wet steps. No UPS package sat on the cold steps.

At a long sigh, Miss Lee made her way back around the house with her eyes staring down at feet. Then she saw a wondrous sight.

A bit of bright yellow sprouted in her path. Where a normal two inches of snow would lie, a little flower poked up from the soggy ground. A dandelion.

Miss Lee shrugged her shoulders and headed into the house. She took off boots and coat. Then she tugged everything back on, grabbed the camera, and headed back outside. Her knees bent down close to the spot of yellow seen in the winter month. The button clicked into the small shiny box. A bright flash surrounded the flower.


Bright flash.


Bright flash.

Sure that she had one good picture in the batch, Miss Lee headed inside the house. She turned on her computer and loaded the picture. Then she logged into her blogger account. Miss Lee rubbed cold fingers together, and then she began to type a post of the events that had happened today.

Michelle awoke to the sound of gunshots . . .


  1. Love the title and the premise, and lines like this: Miss Lee would let the world have this sad time to itself. Now...what happened??

    Come by and vote on your fav Christmas item today if you get a chance. :)

  2. How do you come up with ideas such as these ? Is it "art imitating life"?
    I only read this post once, but I need to read it several times.
    I also read your contribution to the contest; I hope you will win, it is by far the best first paragraph of the ones entered.;)
    (and it is also one of your previous posts, as I recall;)

  3. michelle been a bad girl with that kinda homeboys popping off guns close enough to wake her? ;)

  4. Angie: You got my vote already for the fav Xmas bling. :)

    Nothing happened, per se. Sometimes I just remind myself that there are more worthier things to be sad over out in the world than to bemoan about what happens in my life.

    Protege: For this one, I will say that it is art imitating life. Otherwise, I have no clue where I get my ideas.

    Yeah, it's the first part of the stalker story I posted on Thanksgiving. I figured I would post it over there and see what happens.

    Laughingwolf: Man... living straight out in the valley-hood just sends those popper noises bouncing off them hills. Ain't no way I know where they're com'n from or I'd go out there smack'n heads together to git them homies to stop. They all just need to check themselves, man.

  5. I really like the title. So, what happens next? (:

  6. Oh, I get it! When Angie asked what happened, and now Cheffie/Debbie asked what happened, you want to know what happened next in the STORY!

    Um, I'll get back to you on this...

  7. Nice, Michelle. So much texture here, and unanswered questions to chew on (The bloody nose, the CD, the boss-lady, where, etc.) I like it, a lot.

  8. Suldog: Glad you liked it! Huh? I'm still wondering when everybody is going to ask the big question.

    Is THAT what your middle initial stands for? Lee?

    This story is just something I typed up to tell everybody how my day went yesterday. I doubt you want to hear the rest of it. Yawn...boring!

  9. great story!

    so.... Is THAT what your middle initial stands for? Lee?



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