The Bishops Mistress

   "What our society has fallen to is debauchery! Christ our Lord did not die for his people to fall into this crude practice!" The Bishop's face was wet with the sweat passion.

"Do you not thank the Lord for all the gifts he has bestowed upon you as Christians?" The Bishop looked down at the crowd, his words were taken to be the grave truth by all but one parishioner.

  Marie looked up at her lover with a cruel smile. When the Bishop finally caught her eye , his face changed drastically as though he had been reminded of his own shortcomings.

" Let us all seek repentance for there is not one soul out there who has not sinned. This we must remember as we travel on." The Bishops message softened.

    He quickly turned away from the scene of his impurity and began again on another topic. Marie held her head high , proud of her new missions' sincerity and guilt. His traits were perfect, his position even more ideal. In a months time the Bishop was expected to be named the Archbishop of Florence, a position the Bishop had been pensively awaiting for years.

   Marie quickly exited the cathedral before the sermon ended. She was careful in her movement, in  the last year she had learned to become a ghost, a figment of the imagination. 

Outside she skulked behind the woodcutter shop sure the owner was at mass right now.

Two dark figures slunk against the side of the building, their holy attire obviously unnatural for the pair. One stood tall and ghoulish, the other bald and round. A third character emerged out of the shadows, though this one was grubby looking and commonly dressed. They stood up straight when Marie approached them with a cruel civility.

"Tonight" She said with lips of frost.

"Tonight?You do not think it is too soon, that perhaps we are rushing?" The ghoulish figure asked.

"If you would like to wait you may, but I am leaving tonight."

"As you wish Miss, when the clock chimes in the eleventh hour?"

"Yes, as it was always to be?" She walked away braggadocio.

Her entrance to the villa was through the west gate. The Bishop had made sure her door was private. No one would see her enter her own home. The Bishop entered the house not an hour after Marie.

  "My love," She began with intent in her demonic eyes,"there is a matter I need to speak to you about."

"Tell me what is plaguing you ?" He questioned her.

"It is the matter of our son."

The Bishop's shoulders tightened and his face clenched at the vexing words, "What of the boy?"

" I have received word from his keeper , she needs more money."

"More? I have given that child all a little one could possibly wish for."

"Hmmm, yes, but I thought you wanted the best for your son, for the line of Perrico, I told his keeper to give him nothing but the best in everything, I could tell her otherwise, to treat him like a peasant, to treat him with little regard."

" No, no, I suppose we must do something for the boy. You are correct. If I send  her the ring with my family's crest , perhaps that will suffice?"

"Do let me see it. Where do you keep it my Lord?"

The aging Bishop stood up and went to his chest. He took out an ancient looking ring.

"Let me see." She commanded, "Yes, this will do nicely, our son will have nothing but the best care."

The Bishop placed the gem back into the chest as he began to speak , "One day I would like to see the boy."

"Oh I don;t think that would be a very good idea. You would not even allow me to stay in Florence when my stomach was swollen with him. How could you think of going to see him, especially when the pope is considering you for Archbishop?"

" Perhaps you are correct my love." He smiles the smile of a pained father never able to see his heir.

  " I am going into town my love but I will see you tonight."

She left the same way she entered.

    Night fell soon over Florence. The Bishop lay in bed with his love.

Marie carefully caressed his hair as she began to speak, "I must admit my love, I heard some rather disturbing things today while I was in town."

"What sort of things?"

" The Magistrate is suspicious of you having a mistress there is talk they may come to the villa to see for themselves."

"But when?"

"Some say tonight... " She allowed the words to seep under his skin.

" We must do something. You must leave immediately!"

"Where shall I go?"

He looked about the room as though the curtains held the answer, "I have a brilliant idea, you should go and stay with our son then you can give the gem to the keeper."

"If I am to go as well we will need more than the gem!"

He took out his chest and began pulling out priceless jewels to keep his lover and son satisfied. Marie began to pack her own bags forcing her previous gifts from the Bishop inside the sack.

The grand clock of the town struck eleven. The chime echoed through the windows. A pound was heard on the front door.

"They're here!" Cried the Bishop, "The Magistrate is here!"

Two religious looking men burst into the main foyer. One was tall and ghoulish looking and the other was small, bald and plump. Marie and the Bishop saw the men from the stairs.

"Quick come the back door!" Cried the Bishop.

Marie followed him out of the magistrate's sight and into the back courtyard. The bishop called for a carriage. Marie stepped into the carriage. 

"I will come and see you in Pergua." He called after her.

"Yes there I will see you . I will give our son you love." The carriage drove away.

Marie tapped the driver, "I told you it would work!"

She smiled into the darkness. She was driving towards the child she never bore and the woman who never kept him. The Bishop would never see her again, the mother of his imaginary child. She neatly tucked the jewels inside her bodice and let a cruel laugh escape into the night air.

Brain Drain

                   Brains Bound for Broadway

    All the teachers at Rhomloda High fled to New York, except of course Mr. Hucklebee. Like many, he dreamed of leaving his post and following the other teachers to Broadway. Ever since the new musical 'The Truth Behind the Chalk" premiered, teachers began to flock to the Big Apple. They related to the whimsical educators portrayed on the big stage. Finally a show about us they thought.

     Mr. Hucklebee, a tired teacher, was fed up with his pupil's complaints about the fine points of the geometric diameter of a line. He dreamt of the glitz , glamour and fame that Broadway offered. One day he took the initiative and set out to pursue his visions of grandeur. The last Friday of October he approached the large glum Principal with a brilliant new idea.

   "Mrs. Winthrop I'm leaving Rhomolda High. I'm going to Broadway!" He beamed.

She gave him a long hard stare as though staring down at a student with the wrong uniform shoes, "Oh God not you too."

"Yes me too. I believe I can land a part, I've got the brains, talent, and I've just completed my first tap dancing class!" His enthusiastic voice carried throughout her office.

"Boy your crazy! You're a geometry teacher, you've got dorky black rimmed glasses, and you can' t walk down the halls without tripping on your own two feet or worse a students feet. What makes you think you can dance on Broadway?" She questioned.

"My charisma and perseverance?"

"Miss Crystle just came back from Broadway, she couldn't land a part and look at her she's beautiful, balanced ad brainy. Look at yourself your just plain scrawny."

"I will not take such negative criticism,. I'm going to Broadway and I'm going to reach stardom and play a teacher instead of teaching."

The principal sighed and waved him away form her office.

The next morning little Mr. Huklebee road the Fung Waa bus to the Big Apple, the city that never sleeps. He was greeted by hundreds of teachers all waiting in line to audition for "The Truth Behind The Chalk". While waiting in line , the teachers occupied themselves in many ways. Some taking poetry apart for pleasure others figuring out algebraic expressions. Then there were those who were the true actors looking divine and unfazed by the multitudes of teachers surrounding them.

     As Mr. Hucklebee waited in line, he awkwardly prepared his tap dance. Mrs. Whintrop was correct he thought .  Mr. Hucklebee was gravely unbalanced and stumbled straight into a producer instead of scolding him she said, "Boy, you've got something , you look exactly like the dorky teacher we've been trying to cast."

He looked up at her with a smile, "And I've got that charisma too."

                                 

There is an old Chines proverb " Don't expect others to keep your secrets if you can't keep them yourself.". It makes sense if you think about it. Secretly if we are telling others our private thoughts we must deep down want them to be exposed. If not wouldn't it be easier to keep them to ourselves? No one can keep

April 08

                 Cinderella Is Not Having A Ball!

   Cinderella gazed at her new goods with a melancholy satisfaction. She had not planned on becoming , as Madonna would say, a material girl. However, here she stood amongst he

r new treasures and wealth feeling the only kind of satisfaction she felt in months. Since her wedding, her life transformed into a bland blur of social activities and parades. She sat pretty as a picture throughout the events, while her husband's eyes scanned the audience for that smug ghoulish looking girl.  

  "Humph", she thought back disgruntled, "that little Snow White thinks she's so lovely with her fair skin, but let me tell you tan is in, pal

e went out of style ova a century ago."

Cindy took in a deep breath finally taking in the humor of her circumstances. The ca

lendar moved only four months since the grand wedding and now she sat alone amongst her latest purchases, while her husband gallivanted off serenading another woman. There were ways he could have been more discrete about his feelings. Did he have to sing out his feelings wherever he went? Did he have to pass notes through those little doves?

    Cindy found his lies less amusing than his actions. "Where are you going my love?" Cindy would ask her prince.

"Hunting", He quickly responded

"What are you hunting for?"

"Alligator

s", He would respond. Of course every self respecting French man knows no alligators can be found in the Riviera, but Cindy accepted his lies, afraid of returning to the rags and cinders she was accustomed to.

   "Perhaps," She thought, " I will find another to occupy my time too. That Prince Eric is looking mighty fine." Eric's tendency to go to sea for long periods of time made her wonder if he was up to something fishy, but still she could make a nice match. " I could learn to live at sea, after all who else could he admire at sea?"

Or perhaps Prince Philip would do for her. After all his little Aurora always seem

ed too tied to pay good

 attention to him. Cindy felt she could fill the void that sleepy head couldn't.

      Her own intentions filled her with guilt. As a little girl , Cindy dreamed of finding her prince charming. She would never have guessed that by some miracle her life would play out like some kind of storybook. For a time she thought it would, after the shoe slipped on her tiny foot and the prince whisked her away to his storybook castle.

       That little prissy came trotting over to Cindy's territory with her entourage of dwarfs scooping prince charming. The more she thought on it the angrier she became. Cindy had an idea, a wicked, vengeful, i

dea. She reached into her shopping bag and drew out an apple, a big delicious apple. She called on her fairy godmother to change her into something very different,very old and very wicked.

       June 08

               The Super Hero Of Smell

   I am the superhero of nervous Nellie's and sweating Sallies. I can sa

ve a person's date by keeping their underarms sweet under pressure. Those who dare step out of the house without 

me will pay the horrible price to my arch nemeses Body Odor. I am an essential part of every ones morning routine. Jocks and athletes should apply my sweet powder frequently during a game to keep the unappealing smell away.

     My home is in the congested medicine cabinet. I sit between the toothbrush and pills anxiously waiting for some one to pick up my plastic body and use my clean scent. I spend my days plotting ways to fight Body Odor, conniving a plan of how to out smart that foul foe. Humans use my awesome powers when they wake up in the morning and hopefully reapply after a shower. I go unnoticed most of the time until someone is in need for my power.

    I'm a bit of a rectangular shape(fitting into clothes is killer so I just go without). My surface is smooth and inviting. My kind can come in numerous different colors and labels. I myself am the lovely pale blue of the ocean on a sunny day. My able reads Secret bragging of my undercover work. My head is made of a charming white powder, which carries out the duty of gently rubbing my fumes onto humans under arms. Though many take me for granted I take my work very seriously.

      I will share with you one of the many miracles I worked. My story begins with

 a boy and girl. Behind the medicine cabinet I would eaves drop in on the girl as she talked to herself in the mirror about how she wished Barnaby would ask her out. One day the girl's wish came true. Barnaby offered to take her out to the movies. This happened to be the one occasion she slipped me into her purse for insurance. I watched as her date began very faultily. Her nerves took the better part of her and her odor spread thr

oughout Barnaby's car.

   He gave her a look of disgust when he realized where the odor originated . He wouldn't stand within two feet of her in the lobby. She understood what was happening and watched as her dreams melted way as my nemesis, Body Odor, was coming from under her arms. She panicked at first, then remembered that a superhero lay inside her purse. She quickly reapplied me. I easily brushed away my enemy B.O. and replaced it with my fresh roses sent. By the end of the night, Barnaby has asked her to the prom. That was one of the proudest moments of my life.

   The life I lead may not always be easy , I brave unsanitary conditions to help humans with their pride and dignity. I work around the clock to ensure humans under arms do not get infiltrated with that vile smell. I sit looking inconspicuous on my shelf ready to jump off at any time and use my brilliant power on any sweaty soul in need of my service. I may look little, however, I could come in handy one day when you need my powers to wipe away unwanted stench! Can you guess my true identity ? I'm the wonderful, brave, and always willing Deodorant! Remember my powers and my sacrifice next time you take advantage of my stench killing strength.

May 08

Moonshine and Wild Girl

There was once a chance I didn't take, a chance I would have been crazy to take, but it was a chance of excitement. It was so very long ago that I ignored that girl, so long my skin stood up on it's own. She was offering moonshine; of course every sane person knows to stay away from moonshine, that is if you don't want to be locked up for good. That girl came straight into little Albuquerque selling her moonshine. She offered me a life with her , a life of hard liquor and hard times. I told the local boys I wanted nothing to do with a wild gal like that . She was aiming for the rope, but my inner thoughts couldn't be more different. As a seventeen year old boy, I thought she was the cats' meow, her reckless behavior drove my hormones right outta the water.

   The first day she came into town, she wore a bright red dress made by gypsies, or so she said. That salutary enchantress caught my eye right away. Her long black hair tasseled around like some kinda pony and her eyes were filled with the flames of the devil himself. My heart was surely ablaze at the sight. It was Jimmy who changed my idea of her. His father was the sheriff in town, and he informed me she was bad news all right. His old papa was just waiting for her to show her moonshine and then he was going to tie her up and let her dangle. Jimmy had a way of swaying the groups thoughts. After this announcement, that gal was off limits. No one would dared look in her direction. I followed suit with the other boys. She was dangerous I told myself, but my body wanted that girl so badly it would try anything to get her.

    I can recall the exact moment I first spoke to that crazy girl. I had been walking back from work down at the old car garage. She was perched on a tree branch like some kind of mocking bird. I didn't see her right away. She took me by surprise when she flew down behind me and began blabbering on like she was puttin me under some kinda spell. I was entranced with that dang girl. I could barely contain myself, She forwardly told me she'd noticed me since the first blasted day she arrived, said it was because of my stupid grin. 

    She shyly pulled her dress strap down onto her shoulder  as she answered , "you part of them boys in town, part of them boys talkin bad bout me?"

"We ain't talkin bad , we just curious" ... I sheepishly explained

"It's true about the moonshine I admit it, what do you think now?"

"Why you tellin me this?"

"Just needed someone to be honest with I guess. It get s lonely you know. No one to talk to an all. Wish I had some company just once"

"Ahr..ummm" I awkwardly attempted to convey I didn't want to hear anymore.

"You seem like a nice kid,what you say to joining me? Helping me sell some moonshine. We can make some money and some fun. We'll  run from the law wherever we go, Has to be more excitin than this dried up old town."

    I nervously looked at that girl hanging on every word she had to offer, "You're a crazy you know, and you should be locked up for what you've been doin."

She stood there daft as I stalked away in a flurry. I knew I should've gone with that girl. I should've taken the only risk come my way but, here I live out my conventional dull life .

            

 

January 08

Confession

In the Catholic faith, there are two kinds of confessions, perfect and imperfect. In perfect, the sinner is truly sorry for their sins and will be forgiven by God. In imperfect , the sinner is going to confession because they are afraid of ending up in hell or are forced by a parent ,but if put in the same situation would repeat the sin once again. Perhaps we are all like little children forced to confess by ones parents or we don't get dessert only now the dessert becomes something else and the parent becomes someone else. When our confessions or apologies are made are they imperfect or perfect? Would one sin again in the same way if given the choice? Why is it so easy to make a confession without meaning it and so hard to make a perfect confession?Is life's indulgences just too tempting?

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