Saturday, October 26, 2013

Immortal Secrets

Photo by Author S. R. Karfelt

Kahtar glanced at the little clock on the monitor, ten minutes had passed, and he sighed. The monotony of the police station seemed to invite the unpleasantness of shades to descend. All the men complained about it. Determined to avoid them, and keep his mind occupied, for some twisted reason he got on Wikipedia and searched 'Longinus.'

For two thousands years the shade had followed him. He knew a legend had sprung up from that day, knew that somehow those there had learned his true name that day, but over the ensuing centuries he'd ignored it. Yet today, on a whim, alone with a computer and no witnesses, he impulsively reached into the past.

He found it. Some of the stories were expectedly convoluted. Still the details of that day survived surprisingly accurate, especially considering the amount of time that had passed. Leaning close to the machine he started to fish around in cyberspace, wondering if there were paintings of Longinus that might even be similar. He felt certain those at the foot of the tree had gotten an eyeful of him that day, and despite his odd repeating existence, he always looked exactly the same.

Gazing down at his big hands on the keyboard he flexed them, had anyone ever been as familiar with a pair of hands as he was? A memory stirred and Kahtar no longer saw the keyboard.

A boy's hand, pink and small appeared engulfed in the black hand of his warrior father.

"Baba, why is my hand the wrong color?" the little boy's voice quavered. His father, wearing the vivid colors of clan leader, knelt in the dust, looking into his eyes. Strong ebony fingers combed through his son's long hair, it slid through his fingers the color and texture of dry savannah grass.

"ilu has his reasons."

The memory came sharp. It had been seconds later when he'd remembered. His past had dropped like it always did, the realization of his endless history roaring through him, like a tornado, a hurricane in his head. When he stopped screaming, when he opened his eyes to gaze into the dark worried faces of his clan, he knew why his hand was the wrong color. I am, again.


Excerpt from Warrior of the Ages by S. R. Karfelt - All rights reserved - Available wherever books are sold! Including here: CLICK ME 

Friday, October 11, 2013

It’s Fun Being a Grown-Up

  • This week’s healthy eating menu is garlic roasted broccoli and caramel apples. Every day. My choice, my budget, #LifeisGood 
  • The new blue jeans budget morphed into the triple wick candle/clearance sale flip-flops haul, and I won’t even yell at or berate myself for it. #ExcellentChoice #OldJeansAreBetterAnyway 
  • Instead of packing for my trip or churning out a few thousand words, I got dressed up, put in my contact lenses, and spent six hours lying on the floor watching old movies on my laptop today. 
  • Didn’t answer the phone either. I’m busy. 
  • What’s that sucking sound? My math ability. It sounds like a hungry drain. Being a grown-up has not corrected my math deficit. On the bright side this means time – which is definitely math-related — has no power over me. Like a color blind dog I can race forward completely unaware what that flashing red light means. I can dart through passing years vaguely amused by passing fashion and philosophy. This means my blue jeans from 1989 are still too cool.
  • Honestly I feel stronger than I was a decade ago, faster. Of course I’ve never remembered where the heck I put stuff, have always had eyesight borderline white cane, and been unsure enough on my feet that one good sneeze could make me topple over. Is that what people meant when they said I was an old soul? 
  • Dance like no one is watching? Forget that. Watch me dance. You should put these moves on YouTube. I call this one the “Bite Me”. My kids call it the “Kill Me”.
  • Bed time? That would involve math now wouldn’t it? I employ the toddler philosophy of go-go-go-drop-nap. 

Author: S. R. Karfelt
Are you enjoying your life as a grown-up? Since you’re in charge of it, I hope you manage to steal some moments to just bask in it. You can shove quarters into the gumball machine now, if you want, and rot your teeth out chewing it for a minute. No one will ever know. Not even if you blow a bubble so big it pops and gets all in your hair. It’s your life. Claim it. If only for a second. Are you with me grown-up?

Monday, October 7, 2013

Secrets of a Long Marriage

Photo Credit: S. R. Karfelt
Whoever wins this gets to be boss

·       Never leave.

·       Okay, leave, but always come back.

·       Sit beside your honey on the couch, even if he’s watching a sucky hunting show. It’s the only way you can sneak the remote off him.

·       Your spouse will be incredibly annoying at times, but so will you. Endure.

·       If you can’t endure, leave, but always come back.

·       Learn your spouse’s language. Speak it sometimes. Mine speaks engineer. Here is an example: Dear Hubby’s comment, “Crying over a book/movie/news story is illogical. It serves no purpose.” Proper response: “Actually, Mr. Spock, tears serve the purpose of releasing empathetic sorrow that human’s sometimes feel.” This works both ways, remember that part, i.e., when I shake Dear Hubby awake at 3:00 a.m. and say, “My left arm is numb. I think I’m having a stroke.” “Did you use the elliptical machine for an hour today?” “Yes.” “Did you sit hunched at your computer writing for twelve hours after?” “Yes.” “Were you just sleeping on your left arm?” “Yes.” “There is a 98.99% chance it is a pinched nerve and you won’t die of a stroke tonight. Unless you wake me again. In that case I’ll swear to the coroner that you had a stroke and fell out the bedroom window.”

·       Sneak and kiss your spouse when no one is looking. All the time. Even if your teenagers threaten to carry barf bags, do it anyway.

·       Tell each other the truth, except for agreed upon exemptions*. Our personal exemptions are:

§  The cost of hunting/writing supplies:

·       How much did that cost?
·       Negotiated answer: $50 – This is our own get out of jail free card. Our personal don’t ask don’t tell policy.

§  How many hunting/fishing trips are you taking this year?

§  How long will your family be staying?

§  Is there any ice-cream?

§  Please note: *Personal exemptions will vary in each marriage.

·       If you really want to do something, and your spouse doesn’t, negotiate to do it without them. This can/may include: Movies, vacations, hobbies, time with friends/family, etc. I don’t care what Hollywood/Pop-Culture says, you can have separate interests at times.

·       If your spouse’s hobbies are inane, like hunting and fishing for example, feign respect. If you can’t feign respect, set yourself to endure. Get good at it. Love your spouse’s happiness more than what your BFF thinks about your Dear Hubby wandering around in camo with his duck call.

·       The above can be used to defend your own penchant for wandering cemeteries to collect names off headstones.

·       Care more what your spouse thinks than what other people think. This is difficult if your spouse has loud or obnoxious hobbies or inexplicable hobbies. Once I had a boss who kindly called me into his office to insist that I open my eyes to the possibility that Dear Hubby had a girlfriend he was meeting deep in the woods during hunting season, he just didn’t understand that Dear Hubby couldn’t possibly love any woman who would stand between him and a ten point buck, or that he really could spend ten days in a forest with a bow and arrow.

·       Your guy will never, ever, get his dirty clothes that extra six inches into the hamper – nor will he get his dirty plate that extra 18” from the sink into the dishwasher. Ever. Deal. Just like you’ll never, ever, purchase store brand goods because you’re on a budget – nor will you ever EVER remember to check pockets for fishing hooks and bullets, when the job of laundry eventually falls permanently into your domain (and you’ll live with this gladly when taxes fall into his).

·       Look into your spouse’s eyes. Hold his/her hand. Throw a water balloon at him and run like helk. Listen when he talks, or pretend if it is about hunting/fishing.

·       Don’t threaten to leave – unless you’re being abused, in which case quit reading this and don’t threaten, do it – figure out, together, how to make whatever is bothering you bearable, because you just don’t want to have to do all that paperwork, and besides, you’ll have them whipped into shape any day now. 

Dear Hubby & Boss
Would you like to add any tips? What are your secrets to a long happy relationship? 

Feel free to hypothesize, I'm a fiction writer for pity's sake!