About Me

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I am Cynde, David, and Lance’s mom, Sonia and Ramona’s step mom, Grammy to eleven, as well as Sebastian, Oliver, Bentlee, and Athena's best friend. Beyond my family, I am a writer. Words are my tools, and the world is my workshop. Without mercy, I manipulate my reader’s emotions until I have them believing what they formerly thought impossible. Those close to me, choose their words and actions with care, for no one knows what will end up on pages of my manuscripts.

Monday, November 03, 2008

It is a mere window. A sheet of glass, seperating me from another me. The more I look, the less it changes. I move my head and it does the same. How dare this intruder, mimic me so precisely. The birds fly past, touching my double, yet all he does is stare at me as if I'm all that exists. I snarl, I bare my long incisors and he returns my jester, his teeth appearing longer and sharper than my own. The fiend, it's as if he's my shadow but how can he be a shadow when no sun is shinning? It's dark beyond this window and the wind arises, yet not a hair moves on his smooth arched back. I yawn, I stretch, he does the same, but my head is tired. I've thought too much. I close my eyes, inviting sleep. It's beyond who I am to care.

Monday, September 01, 2008

Although my sightless eyes tell me nothing, I know night has come and a purple hue saturates the world around me. Night beasts creep from their hiding places. Scurry across the rocky trail in front of me. Crawl in the crevices of my marble hair. Flutter in the foreboding air above me, the same way they have for centuries. The beasts change but their habits remain the same. And I loathe them. Always crawling, climbing, scratching. If only they’d leave me alone.
A cold wind stirs up the stench of decaying bodies buried in the catacombs below, then brushes against me. Dew forms on my warm, rough surface, then rolls down my potted cheeks. If only I could wipe it away, but I’m forced to endure century after century. Pillars I used to talk to eroded and fell more years ago than I can count. But I remain. Stripped of my beauty, my usefulness outgrown, cast aside to end my days in the shadow of an enormous aloe plant. Where is the justice? My silent screams dissolve into the unresponsive night. I close my sightless eyes.
Time passes. Frogs wake up on the pond behind me and birds start their incessant chirping. Day break approaches and with it, prodding, poking, cameras clicking. My throat aches. How much longer must this go on? I’m tired beyond comprehension.