Tanya Archives

June 21, 2005

Tanya: A Midsummer Night's Wakeup Call

She lit the last of the candles and called her smallest cat into the room. Everything seemed ready, the ingredients at hand, as she dropped her cloak and sat skyclad among the herbs and petals strewn in a circle on the floor.

Slowly, carefully, she performed the spell, asking the only question that still concerned her. Her life was perfect, missing only one thing. She sent the goddess her plea, then raised the antique silver goblet to look for the reply.

She saw the results immediately. Finally convinced, she swore loudly, and drove to the store for Ben and Jerry's.

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June 22, 2005

Tanya: Finals

Shelly and I spent all day Saturday in the medical library, working on our final paper for Human Development Psych. The one book we really needed had been stolen, but I found a used copy downtown and returned to our dorm.

"I think you got the wrong book, Amy," I heard Shelly yell, as I finished brewing the coffee. I looked out and she was pulling the dustjacket off. "The real cover doesn't say 'Ritalin Nation' on it... This one's called 'Don't Panic.'"

"Shit. It must be a different psychology book. Open it and see if we can use it."

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June 23, 2005

Tanya: I ain't never seen France.

Tall and serious, he stands, staring into the near distance. Focusing on his goal, rejecting the underlying evidence that life lacks inherent meaning, and that this is but a pointless, futile gesture.

He knows that only he can accomplish this. A man must be his own god, make his own choices. Existence must precede essence.

He squints carefully, willing himself into action. Shifts his body slightly, preparing for the next, final movement, that will change the course of this endeavor. This could be the most important moment of his life.

“Dammit!”

“Don’t worry, Dude. You can pick up the spare.”

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June 24, 2005

Tanya: Appointments

She pulled the final report from its folder, checking the name again, then finished reorganizing her work bag. Smaller equipment like the voltage tester could be moved into the center section. She wouldn't need them this morning.

Two years since her daughter had disappeared, and the police had finally admitted that they'd given up. Smiling bitterly to herself, she slipped the .45 into the now-empty side pocket of her bag, and carried it outside to the Electric Company truck in her driveway. She had been a peaceful woman for 37 years. But today would change that, one way or another.

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June 25, 2005

Tanya: Growing dim

I can still remember her face, the way she smelled, her fingers in my hair.

I have a letter she wrote me from Cairo, and one lock of her golden hair, curled like a fiddlehead fern. The silver locket that belonged to her mother, too. And the fuzzy flannel shirt she wore at the lake that summer, when we sat in the canoe, laughing and watching the fish ignore the minnows on our hooks. And nothing more. Only memories.

"Be still, my darling," she whispered to me, sitting beside the bed. "Mommy will be right back." And she never was.

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June 26, 2005

Tanya: Dreams

George watched sadly, from a high vantage point, as the city slowly disappeared below him. He had held such high hopes, such lofty goals of beauty and fame. This had not been only the first step in his own personal journey, it was a gift to the entire world. He would find a way to repair it, restoring his reputation at the same time. And then he would try again, and again, until his dream was fulfilled.

Because holding the Olympic women's wrestling event in green jello had really been a grand idea, until the hoses got out of control.

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June 27, 2005

Tanya: La robe écarlate

She walked into my office late that night, with a truckload of attitude and a rack to match. Pulled her derringer from her thigh holster, started reloading it, and told me she'd beaten up Max for squealing and bribed the judge to go easy on my client. Just like I asked. What a dame.

Then she slid a pint of chocolate milk and a homemade chicken salad sandwich slowly across the desk. My favorite.

I knew she was trouble the minute I saw her standing at the altar in a red wedding dress. Fortunately, I like that kind of trouble.

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June 28, 2005

Tanya: Lost

"But who are you?" she asked again.

He nodded again, as she stirred the stew and wondered. This peculiar man had stumbled in out of the storm, in a suit far too dark and heavy for the season, and a bizarrely long woolen scarf. She straightened her hair, checking her reflection in a copper pot. He spoke in riddles, but he certainly was attractive.

"You haven’t seen a large blue box nearby, have you?" he asked, suddenly.

She lifted the faded blue breadbox, hopefully, but he smiled and shook his head.

"Who did you say you are, now, dear?"

"Yes."

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June 29, 2005

Tanya: Treason

The evil king surveyed his slaves gleefully, as they constructed the scaffold. His two finest spies had just returned with news of the traitorous Rogers, and the gallows must be ready for his imminent capture.

The lovely Queen Sara sympathized with Rogers, but no longer dared to plead for his life, lest she find herself in the noose beside him. Watching her carefully, King Friday conferred quietly with the spies, X and Elaine. She overheard their diabolical plan, followed by her husband's sinister laugh.

There was a merry jingle as the once-trusted conveyance left the palace. The trap was set.

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June 30, 2005

Tanya: Homeopathy

She sat in the darkest corner, silently watching the midwife toil by the fire. There was indeed a tiny life growing inside her.

She wondered if this could change anything. Would the beatings stop? Could a child make her husband merciful? Or would it only give him another target for his cruelty? Could they stow away on a ship to the continent? Or even to America? She knew she was dreaming.

The midwife returned with another pot of tea, the scent of peppermint oil and leaves overpowering. As she began drinking the fourteenth cup, she finally felt the miscarriage begin.

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