It’s that time of year again.. A repost.



The crunch of leaves underfoot is always the worst. When the first sign of color highlights the trees, it is celebrated. They then turn brown and are shredded from the passage of too many feet. It makes me want to preserve them when their colors are still fresh. I always used to like dipping them in paraffin wax when I was a kid, especially when I got to dunk my hand in there until the wax would harden around my fingers.

I light a cigarette. Fall wouldn’t be so bad if I had someone to share it with. We could get hot cider, and go on long walks in the woods, then return home to sit by the fire, drinking wine to celebrate that we have each other. Or rake leaves into a pile so that our kids could jump in them while our dog runs around the white-fenced yard. That wouldn’t be so bad.

Instead, the only thing that embraces me is the stale scent of too many smokes and the occasional pang of loneliness. Blowing on my gloved hands, I decide to get some cider. If I can’t keep someone else’s hands warm this season, at least I can warm my own. With fall and the weather getting colder comes the nagging desire to find a mate. By winter I’m shivering my skinny ass off and cursing myself for being alone, instead of having someone in my arms while the first heavy snowfall falls gently outside the window. I curse myself for not having the guts to ask that certain someone out, and instead pretending I was okay with being just friends. Worse, I curse them for not showing up, except for in my imagination. What if I will always be alone? I don’t know how many recurrences I can take of being alone as it gets cold outside.

As I walk the streets unacknowledged, unnoticed, I find myself imagining being the other half to a solid unit. It’s nothing new for people to ignore me I’m pretty average. Plain hair, plain eyes, plain face. I watch the pretty wife with shoulder length blonde hair and blue eyes, holding the hand of her blue eyed, blonde haired son. That’s one hell of a rock on the hand that’s holding her little boy’s, someone must really love her.
I could be the guy who can always be counted on, to pick up his family after a long day of work. Hey honey, how was your day? Hey kid, how was school? My days would be complete just to welcome them home. The guy who picked out that perfect ring, for his perfect wife.

But I am no one’s other half. Cigarettes, a decent job, and a dingy apartment are all I have, along with the colors of leaves in fall as a reminder that I am alone. Maybe I’ll get a dog, they’re always there to welcome you as long as you feed them.

(Inspired by The Stranger by Albert Camus).

-© Hannah L. Farmery


Quiet towns

The train keeps moving
Past quiet towns
The silence disrupted by
the clanking of metal
and the blare of the horn

Little sailboats patiently wait
Geese sit in a row
A house peaks out between the trees
Graffitied box cars
Long abandoned castle ruins,
hollow with age.

Lily pads, an island of green
Water glistens
Trees stand tall
The sailboats and people in parks
come out to play

Big, fluffy clouds
suspended in the sky,
Old bridges and water towers
The mountains a continuous,
calming presence
Gentle green curves,
Occasionally a pale blue,
shade lighter than the sky.

I long to stop the train
To explore where trees grow tall
and deers run freely
I’d prove nymphs exist by becoming one
I wish to explore castle ruins,
Little cottages on the hill and
quiet towns
To board sailboats
and climb water towers
Visiting places I’ve never been.

But the rumble of the train
A constant motion beneath my feet
stays on its course
to deliver me home.

© Copyright-All rights reserved-Hannah Farmery

Quiet observation, Writing 101 Day 8

Iron pressed against back, thighs and rear-end
Foot losing feeling
Grounded by concrete
Other bounces to a beat

Flies buzz
Ants march
Leaves and my hair sway in the breeze
Skin, and clothes warm in the sun

Sun going down
Pale, white-gray sky
Laughter, cheers
Raised voices
Snippets of conversation
Streets bustle with people
Iron fence separates
Me from them
Exchanged glances as they pass by

Greenery surrounds me
At my feet, back, and overhead
A splash of hot and pale pink
Interrupt the otherwise monochrome pots

Birds chirp
Busses rumble
Keys jingle
Horns honk
Lights flash
Music intermingles
An ever-changing soundtrack
Of the city.

Today’s assignment-Go to a public location and make a detailed report of what you see. The twist of the day? Write the post without adverbs.