What I find is that it’s natural for children to see step parents as evil because they are a road block for their parents ever getting back together again. I had a stepmother growing up and I’m sure we had bumps in the road but overall I think she’s pretty terrific.

When I turned my attention to the story of ‘Cinderella’, I asked myself, “if the Countess was a pretty decent woman, than why did Cinderella clean so much?” – Obsessive Compulsive Disorder was the natural answer that came to me. I’m sure it existed then as it does now, people just called it something else.

But once Cinderella became Queen and her story was told, it became gospel. The Countess was damned by the fairy tale that still resides hundreds of years later.

Icy chills soaked my whole body and no matter how loud I scream – no one comes. No doctors. No nurses. No one in the hospital listens to my pain. Maybe that is common when you are 6 months old.

A cold numbing feeling sticks to the inside of my chest every time I breathe. And a sharp stabbing pain slammed into my ears. I thought for sure whatever this new world I was living in I was not going to make it long.

I scream – this time so loud that I believe God heard me, because just then, an angel walked into the room to save me. She is certainly older than me but not too old. Not that I care. She pulled me out of the crib.

“You are soaking wet,” she says to me.

I scream because what else am I to do. Her smile fades to a scowl when she places me back into the cold wet bed.

I don’t know what I did, but she left. I thought for a moment that I was saved, but again I found myself alone, soaking wet, and cold.

Again, I scream. God heard me once, why not again?

This time, a loud bang came down the hall followed by a lot of shouting.

“You can’t go in there!”

“Like hell I can’t.”

I could hear her… the angel wasn’t gone. She was there. She entered back into the oxygen tent carrying a large cloth. An angry woman dressed in all white was following her in.

“You can’t go in there. The doctor’s didn’t approve you to be in here.”

I felt my wet rags being stripped from my body as the angel spoke back.

“I am this child’s grandmother. And clearly, after seeing the lack of care and attention you have shown her, I think she would do better with me than another minute with you.”

The lady in white seemed displeased as she huffed out of the room, but I didn’t care because the angel had wrapped me up in the big fluffy cloth and held me close to her heart.

She rocked me back and forth, back and forth, back an… zzzzzzzz.

Steve stood on the rooftop as he surveyed the war zone. Even the air was thick with morbid tidings. The walkie talkie that was hooked on his hip screamed, “Steve, have you found her yet?”

“Not yet,” he replied, as his eyes continued to look meticulously over every inch of destruction that lay in front of him.

Just then he heard a loud shriek. Steve turned to see a tree that was standing by the house next door. At the very top he noticed a little girl clenching to a branch.

Picking up his walkie talkie he said, “I think I found her, but she’s in a tree.”

“Try to bring her in,” came an encouraging response. “And good luck!”

Gaging the distance between the roof he was on and the next one over, he knew that he was going to have to build up some speed. He started at the far end and ran, as hard and as fast as he could, before plunging into the air. With his outstretched hands he caught the edge of the other roof. The rest of his body slammed against the side of the house. He could feel the shingles cut deep into his side as he pulled himself up to the top. Taking only a moment to catch his breath, Steve proceeded to the far end of the roof where the tree stood.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

The girl looked down at him. Even at a distance, Steve could see she was covered from head to toe in dirt. In fact, the only clean part of her body were the couple of streaks down her checks from tears. With one arm wrapped around the tree and her thumb stuffed in her mouth, the girl shook her head ‘no’.

“I’m Steve. What’s your name?” he said in a calm tone, but the only response he got was her turning away from him.

“I’m going to come up there, okay?”

He reached out and grabbed the branch nearest to him, and pulled himself up into the tree. Branch by branch, Steve climbed his way to her. As he got closer, he noticed she was clenching the branch so tightly that her nails were bleeding from digging into the bark. She had a lot of scrapes and bruises up and down her legs, but that wasn’t surprising to Steve, knowing the ordeal she had been through.

“You’re going to be okay. I’m here to help you.”

She stared at him with her sad eyes.

“I’m going to take you to a safe place now.”

He very cautiously put his hands down on her arms. It wasn’t until he tried to pull her off the branch that she flailed her arms and screamed, “NO!” Steve instantly let go of her again. There was a moment of pause where nothing moved. How could he get this terrified girl out of this tree?

“You know, I have…” Steve’s voice caught in his throat for a second. “I had a daughter, Lou Lou is what I called her,” he said a little choked up. “ She was a little bit older than you. What are you, seven?” The girl had to let go of the branch for a second to hold up the number eight on her fingers.

“Eight? Wow, you’re getting old.”

She smiled at him as she gripped the tree with one hand and put her thumb back into her mouth.

“I guess you’re closer to Lou’s age than I thought. Well. Lou Lou is waiting for me back at the station, and so are your parents.” The girl’s eyes seemed to brighten at the mention of her parents.

“They want to see you just like my daughter wants to see me. But I vowed only to come back if I had you with me. Do you think we can do that?”
The girl slowly nodded her head, and then in one motion she let go of the branch and wrapped both of her arms around Steve’s neck. He put her on his back and climbed back down to the roof.

It took a little time to get back to the station. The moment they entered(,) the girl’s parents came running towards her yelling and screaming in relief.
“Oh my God, I thought I had lost you,” her father said while he scooped her up into his arms. Turning to Steve the father said, “Thank you. I don’t know how we could ever repay you.”

Steve just nodded his head and smiled at the sight of the girl happily back with her family.

Both the mother and the father clinched her tightly as they were overcome with tears of joy. The girl nestled her head on his chest while sucking her thumb. Steve stood back from them but continued to smile at her. As she looked over her father’s shoulder at him, he gave a little wave goodbye.
“Mister,” she said. “Are you going to see your daughter now?”

Tears began to flood his eyes as he nodded ‘yes’. “I’m sure she’s still around here… somewhere.” He then turned and walked away. The girl began to squirm with impatience until her father had to put her down.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Katrina?”

Still watching Steve walk away she said, “I hate my name. I want a new one.”

Her mother and father looked at each other with understanding. “Do you know what you’d like to be called?” asked her mother.
“Lou Lou!” she screamed. “LOU LOU!”

THE BUM

The bum scraped his feet down the dirty New York streets. The absence of an expression suggested that he didn’t care where he was going or when he was going to get there. The clothes that he had been wearing were soaked through as the rain continued to pelt down from the sky.

“Get this shit out into the dumpster before the truck comes.” he heard screamed from an alleyway.

Looking around the corner, the pain and aimlessness he had felt started to melt away. His eyes grew the size of saucers. His mouth began to water, as the fishy smells wafted down the street.

The bus boy from the seafood restaurant had just thrown out all the scraps from the dirty dish. The boy took his time as he tossed bag after bag of trash into the dumpster. Had the bum just struck gold? The bus boy probably wouldn’t think so as he held his breath in between each raw sewage bag he threw.

The bum staggered forward and each painful step he had new signs of hope. The rib bones that protrude out of his sides, the load roars of his stomach, even the emptiness that moments before filled his eyes, all of it was gone as his pace increased. Before he knew it, he was barreling down the alley, clobbering the bus boy.

“Whoa, man! What the hell are you doing?” the boy screamed, but the bum ignored him as he dove into a heavenly sea of garbage. Swimming through the raw fish, half eaten potatoes, and shrimp tails.

For a moment it felt like the sun was bursting through the sky and slamming only him with light while everyone else was damned to the dreary rain that continued to fall. He almost didn’t realize the piercing pain that was now digging into his arms. Looking to the left and to the right two men were dragging him out of the dumpster.

It would seem that the bus boy didn’t agree with the bum’s afternoon bath in the garbage. As they dragged him, his eye’s flooded with tears, then screamed a silent scream that could be heard by no one else but his inner ear that had been filled with silence since his time on the street.

The men dropped him off in the middle of the sidewalk then went back into the restaurant. His eyes returned to their empty gaze as he began to drag his feet down the wet pavement.

Jeffrey knew that he was not in Kansas anymore as he took in a deep breath of the smog filled air. Hollywood and Highland was crammed block to block with international tourists that couldn’t put their cameras away. The pavement under his feet wasn’t really pavement but instead shiny tiles that had a stars’ name imprinted on them. Grumman’s Theater, with its huge wooden archways, was especially crowded as people placed their large feet into their favorite actor’s cement shoe prints. Michael Jackson, was the crowd pleaser on that particular day. It is damn near impossible to turn any direction and not see a street performer or impersonator. Spiderman pushed past Marilyn Monroe to get a picture with two little boys who kept screaming, “Shoot your web, Spidy. Shoot your web”. And there was a lingering stench of car exhaust and it was thick enough in the air that it was almost impossible to see the infamous Hollywood sign. That’s what comes with the hundreds of cars that lined both Hollywood and Highland on a Friday afternoon. Jeffrey thought heavily until his feet stopped in front of the Kodak Theater. He looked up at the two-story pillars that had all the Best Picture films from the beginning of the Oscars listed on them. He said with great exuberance, “I can do this. I can become an actor.”

The Sunday morning sun crept through the multicolored stained glass windows of the sanctuary. Sitting in the third pew down and to the right was Ol’ Joe. His blue plaid shirt matched his navy pants and his white sneakers.

10:45 rolled around when the prelude music started singing on the piano. Ol’ Joe closed his eyes and rested his hand on the painfully empty seat next to him. It was Sunday as usual, or so he thought.

“Excuse me. I don’t mean to bother you but I was wondering if you come here often?”

When Ol’ Joe’s eyes opened, they fell on a young woman who was dressed in a brightly colored tank top and she was leaning over the pew in front of him.

“It’s just- I moved into town last week and I’m trying to find a church family that would suit me.”

Ol’ Joe gave the young lady a look over before saying, “Yes, I suppose you could say that I have been coming here for a while.”

“Oh, that’s good. How do you like this place?”

A half smile that he had long forgotten sunk into his cheeks. “I like it pretty well I guess. My wife liked it pretty well too.” He felt his hand drift over the empty seat next to him again.

The girl breezed over his sentimental moment and moved around the pew, and plopped down in the empty space where his hand was. “She won’t mind if I sit next to you, would she? It’s just- I hate sitting by myself and you look like such a nice person.”

“Why thank you.”

The young woman thrust her hand forward and smiled. “My name’s Jackie. In case you were wondering.”

“Everyone around here calls me Ol’ Joe.”

“You don’t look that Ol’”

“Well, I’ll be 80 this up-coming year.”

“You know, compared to the age of the earth, that’s not so Ol’.”

Ol’ Joe found his hands playing with the bulletin, anxiously. “I suppose you’re right.”

The piano hit its final chord and the scripture reading began. Ol’ Joe folded his hands neatly in his lap and listened contentedly. All of a sudden, he felt the weight of Jackie’s body leaning on his arm.

“I never understand why the minister has the scripture read at the beginning of the service. Why not save it for the sermon?” She whispered loudly.

He glanced over at her but then looked back at the minister. “ I reckon it’s so you can get your mind heading in the direction of the sermon earlier on in the service.”

Jackie didn’t respond right away, but her face contorted in every which direction. Finally she said, “I never thought about it that way.”

Ol’ Joe just smiled.

The music began to play again and the whole congregation rose to their feet. Between the piano, guitar, and the drum set, the band was rocking out on the altar. People all over the sanctuary clapped , swayed, and even danced.

Ol’ Joe stood absolutely still and got the words to mumble from his lips. Jackie, on the other hand, clapped gaily and sang at the top of her lungs. It wasn’t long before she grabbed his hands and showed him how to clap to the beat.

“Try this. It makes the service a lot more fun.”

“Is that so? I’ve been coming here for 20 years and I have never had a problem not clapping.”
“Suit yourself, but this is far more entertaining,” Jackie said with a raised eyebrow.

Ol’ Joe sighed. The beat of the drums pulsed through the carpet it was so loud. Reluctantly, he clapped his hands together. First softly but then gradually he got louder and louder.

“Hey, this isn’t half bad.”

“See. God wouldn’t want you to fall asleep in His house. Not very cool.”

The music ended and the minister began to preach to the crowd. Ol’ Joe was surprised that Jackie remained silent through the whole thing. Sure, she doodled on her bulletin and once or twice she looked at the time on her cell phone. But she was still.

As the hour ticked down, the service came to a close. Jackie popped up to her feet.
“It was a pleasure to meet you Ol’ Joe. I might be back next week.“

“Ok. That would be great.”

“See ya.”

As quickly as she came, she disappeared out of sight. Ol’ Joe was left dumbfounded.
“Ol’ Joe, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He turned to see Maggie, the old nurse of the church, standing next to him.

“More like an angel. I haven’t seen someone that full of life since Marta.”

“How did you meet her?”

“I wish I could tell you, but it was so quick, it’s hard to recall everything.”

Maggie smiled and put a caring arm on his shoulder. “Didn’t anyone tell you, angels are quick.”

“I guess so,” chuckled Ol’ Joe. “And they are certainly full of life…”

The Sunday morning sun crept through the multicolored stained glass windows of the sanctuary. Sitting in the third pew down and to the right was Ol’ Joe. His blue plaid shirt matched his navy pants and his white sneakers.

10:45 rolled around when the prelude music started singing on the piano. Ol’ Joe closed his eyes and rested his hand on the painfully empty seat next to him. It was Sunday as usual, or so he thought.

“Excuse me. I don’t mean to bother you but I was wondering if you come here often?”
When Ol’ Joe’s eyes opened, they fell on a young woman who was dressed in a brightly colored tank top and she was leaning over the pew in front of him.

“It’s just- I moved into town last week and I’m trying to find a church family that would suit me.”
Ol’ Joe gave the young lady a look over before saying, “Yes, I suppose you could say that I have been coming here for a while.”

“Oh, that’s good. How do you like this place?”

A half smile that he had long forgotten sunk into his cheeks. “I like it pretty well I guess. My wife liked it pretty well too.” He felt his hand drift over the empty seat next to him again.

The girl breezed over his sentimental moment and moved around the pew, and plopped down in the empty space where his hand was. “She won’t mind if I sit next to you, would she? It’s just- I hate sitting by myself and you look like such a nice person.”

“Why thank you.”

The young woman thrust her hand forward and smiled. “My name’s Jackie. In case you were wondering.”

“Everyone around here calls me Ol’ Joe.”

“You don’t look that Ol’”

“Well, I’ll be 80 this up-coming year.”

“You know, compared to the age of the earth, that’s not so Ol’.”

Ol’ Joe found his hands playing with the bulletin, anxiously. “I suppose you’re right.”

The piano hit its final chord and the scripture reading began. Ol’ Joe folded his hands neatly in his lap and listened contentedly. All of a sudden, he felt the weight of Jackie’s body leaning on his arm.
“I never understand why the minister has the scripture read at the beginning of the service. Why not save it for the sermon?” She whispered loudly.

He glanced over at her but then looked back at the minister. “ I reckon it’s so you can get your mind heading in the direction of the sermon earlier on in the service.”

Jackie didn’t respond right away, but her face contorted in every which direction. Finally she said, “I never thought about it that way.”

Ol’ Joe just smiled.

The music began to play again and the whole congregation rose to their feet. Between the piano, guitar, and the drum set, the band was rocking out on the altar. People all over the sanctuary clapped , swayed, and even danced.

Ol’ Joe stood absolutely still and got the words to mumble from his lips. Jackie, on the other hand, clapped gaily and sang at the top of her lungs. It wasn’t long before she grabbed his hands and showed him how to clap to the beat.

“Try this. It makes the service a lot more fun.”

“Is that so? I’ve been coming here for 20 years and I have never had a problem not clapping.”
“Suit yourself, but this is far more entertaining,” Jackie said with a raised eyebrow.

Ol’ Joe sighed. The beat of the drums pulsed through the carpet it was so loud. Reluctantly, he clapped his hands together. First softly but then gradually he got louder and louder.

“Hey, this isn’t half bad.”

“See. God wouldn’t want you to fall asleep in His house. Not very cool.”

The music ended and the minister began to preach to the crowd. Ol’ Joe was surprised that Jackie remained silent through the whole thing. Sure, she doodled on her bulletin and once or twice she looked at the time on her cell phone. But she was still.

As the hour ticked down, the service came to a close. Jackie popped up to her feet. “It was a pleasure to meet you Ol’ Joe. I might be back next week.“

“Ok. That would be great.”
“See ya.”

As quickly as she came, she disappeared out of sight. Ol’ Joe was left dumbfounded.

“Ol’ Joe, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He turned to see Maggie, the old nurse of the church, standing next to him.

“More like an angel. I haven’t seen someone that full of life since Marta.”

“How did you meet her?”

“I wish I could tell you, but it was so quick, it’s hard to recall everything.”

Maggie smiled and put a caring arm on his shoulder. “Didn’t anyone tell you, angels are quick.”
“I guess so,” chuckled Ol’ Joe. “And they are certainly full of life…”

1. Jessica looked longingly at the front door one last time.

2. The lilac grew obscure as the warm Autumn sun set.

3. The gun smoke buried the mangled carcasses after the battle.

GUS

So, I decided a couple weeks ago that I was going to finally take steps towards making all my dreams come true. I made a conscious decision to go out and buy my very first pet dragon. That’s right, you heard me correctly, I bought myself a pet dragon.

He was sitting in this little clear container on the counter in this hole in the wall gift shop. (I wished I would have known then what I was getting myself into) His bright red scales covered the tip of his head all the way down to the point of his tail. Picking him up, he fit perfectly in the palm of my hand. Well, his body did anyway. His tail, on the other hand, wrapped all the way up my arm.

He was adorable, especially with his big, brown, puppy-dog eyes. The storeowner cautioned me against buying this somewhat dangerous creature that I knew nothing about. Like any person who knew what they wanted, I thrust a fist full of money out to him and scooped the dragon up into my arms. Looking back, I might have been a little hasty.

So what have I learned from my last impulsive blunder?

1. Dragons have ferocious appetites, which usually consist of sulfur and rocks, you know, to help keep their fire breathing abilities up to snuff. The problem comes when I don’t feed him on time and all of a sudden part of my porch is missing.

2. Dragons grow super quick. I was able to keep him in my apartment for all of 1 week, but after growing 27 feet long, he was relocated out to the pool area of my building. Occasionally a neighbor will show up at my front door with smoke billowing from his half-singed shirt and is slightly disgruntled about feeling unsafe. I simply tell them that my dragon is young and needs a little training. I smile and let them know that there is a trainer coming in the next day or so. (I’m still looking for one if anyone knows of anybody who would be interested.) Then slowly and as courteously as possible, shut the door in their face. (I can hear the inevitable huff or scream that comes out of every one of them.)

3. By week three, my mini pincher, Sophie has gone missing. I can’t decide if she’s scared or if my dragon… did something to her. The day she went missing, I went out to the pool to check to see if she had snuck out. All I saw was a little tuft of fur by the gate. I looked my dragon straight in the face and asked him if he had seen her. He shook his head “no” and continued licking his claws. Suspicious, very suspicious.

4. Flying- this is my newest struggle. Well, of course he’s a big dragon with a wingspan of a 747. Naturally he wants to stretch them out. What I don’t approve of, and I have told him this, is when he starts treating airplanes as toys. He will fly by an airplane and start by nudging it with his nose. When the plane doesn’t respond except to go faster, my dragon sees this as a chasing game. He will grab the plane with his claws and drag it off. Somehow he always seems to drop the plane off at a near by field or parking lot. Though, after several injuries and a huge decline in flights coming out of LA, I have told him that he can’t touch any more planes. My problem comes when he drops his head and nudges me softly with his nose. I’m such a sucker for that and I know he doesn’t mean anyone harm.

I love my dragon more now than the first day I pulled him off that dirty counter. But I truly would like to warn all of you against getting a dragon until you know what you are getting yourself into. I’ve had a few close encounters, but somehow kept my cool and my apartment building intact. And after careful thought and long deliberation, I think I have finally decided that I will name my dragon Gus.

This is how this will work. I will explain the exercise or concept of the short and then below that I will post my version of the exercise. (The exercises are designed by a collection of writers and teachers.) I encourage all my fellow writers to try some of these exercises out. They are challenging and fun.

I hope you enjoy!