She Tells No Spoken Lies, by Toni L.A. Cross

she laughs and always smiles

so carefully composed

while secretly, she dies

no one sees her graveyard

in still lurking shadows

deceiving carefree eyes

they do not see her pain

a great and looming past

that clouds all inner skies

plain bliss is on display

they think that all is well

she tells no spoken lies

Kay (Part One)

Ordinary. That was the word that came immediately to mind upon meeting Kay for the first time. Nothing about her stood out and screamed “individual”. She wasn’t ugly, she wasn’t pretty. Just normal.

Today was a day like any other. She was on her way to work, walking at a steady pace and due to arrive ten minutes early, which was her habit. She cut through the narrow gap between two decrepit brick buildings and came out in the back of Harrimon’s Groceries and More. She held her breath as she passed the overly full dumpster and made her way towards the back door.

Years ago, someone had spray painted “Employees Only!” across the top in bright pink letters, mainly as a joke. No one thought it was terribly funny, but then again, nobody bothered to repaint the door either. This entryway would be bustling with penny-pinching customers out to buy a case of overripe oranges or day old bread by midday. All the townsfolk knew that the back way was where the bargains lived.

Eaaayyyyyaaaaaa! A rather indignant wail pierced the air and startled Kay enough that she tripped, falling right into a rather dubious puddle. Oh great! Stupid alley cats! she exclaimed.

Kay scrambled up, trying to brush the mud from her uniform. If there was one thing her boss Brian hated more than tardiness, it was messy employees. She might not have much to show for her 24 years, but at least Kay had a steady income and her own place. Keeping her job was a must.

Then, a second cry filled the air, this one more like a sob. What in the…?? It was most certainly coming from the fragrant dumpster. She might as well take a look. Her shirt was already full of mud, anyway.

To be continued…

This story was scribbled quickly as a writing exercise and for my own amusement. I will continue the story soon. I hope you enjoy it!

Please forgive any errors, grammatical or otherwise, as this is a rough single draft story.

Yet another book by its cover…

 

Well, I did it again.

I judged a person based on what I saw.

In my eyes, he was just a lonely, somewhat creepy, unkempt, dirty old man. I couldn’t see beyond his appearance and his roster of questionable jokes, which he likes to use in a pathetic attempt to flirt with females 40 years younger than him.

But the other day, I observed him with someone less fortunate than either of us, a mother and grandmother, watching her child slipping away. And what I saw shamed me to my core.

He reached out to her, listened to her, encouraged her, imparted surprising wisdom, and before he left, told her he would be praying for her and slipped some much needed resources into her hand.

This was a woman that I had never given a second thought.

He perceived what I did not and gave what little he had, just to help her. He didn’t profit from it, there was no real reason for him to do anything…

But he did.

Artists and Writers Needed To Fight Injustice!

Recently, a visiting speaker spoke passionately at our church regarding social justice and human trafficking, I began seriously thinking and praying about what I could do to help.

I am in the baby stages of putting together a self published book through Amazon.com’s CreateSpace.

 
It will be a collaboration of artists and writers, containing short stories, poems, and original art centered around raising awareness of current social justice issues. Our goal would also encompass raising funds to help end modern-day slavery, in all its forms.

We would like to donate the full proceeds of the book, (minus the cost of publishing) to the Not For Sale Campaign.

If you as a writer and/or artist would like to contribute to this project OR if you know someone who might be interested, comment on this post and I will email you as soon as possible.

Thank you so much,

Toni L.A. Cross