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Hear Me Roar (part X)

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(continued)

Yuma, Arizona

November 3rd, 2020

The first time she’d done this she had envisioned a scene from the Disney animated film, The Little Mermaid. The scene had involved the main character, Ariel, singing pleasingly as the evil witch had cast a spell to steal her voice. After watching the destruction that her voice was capable of she’d almost wished that she too could make such a deal with someone, anyone, that could create an effect that would rid her of this ability. It was horrible in reality, she couldn’t shout, couldn’t so much as raise her voice in song without doing some kind of damage to someone or something.

A normal speaking voice was just fine, she could talk until her voice ran dry, but the power would always remain. Where it had come from she didn’t know, but she hated it even as she secretly loved the destruction it could cause. She’d learned the physics that should have been possible with the effect she created, and she’d seen the opposite happen, the impossible that should not have been able to occur. Right now she was kind of counting on it though.

Her voice rose, the sound waves slamming hard against the interior of the brickwork as dust and dirt began to sift downward only to somehow curl lazily back up and flow upward and outward, seeking the various passages that would normally allow smoke from an innocent fire to waft upward towards the chimney above. But this time there would be no warmth coming from within, only the piercing, overwhelming sound that was even now reverberating forcefully against the bricks, slamming again and again into the surrounding masonry and seeping beyond, into the wooden supports, shredding the insulation, and puncturing the drywall as the sharp cracking of the house breaking apart managed to reach her ears and be consumed by the devastating noise that continued to build.

She changed her pitch just enough so that she could create yet another impossible effect as the sound no longer sought to hammer straight up, but instead flowed along the passageways, its power building and building until it finally reached a point of egress wherever it found it and pushed forward. Upward was no longer the only way as chinks in the masonry and the damaged walls offered easy egress. The sound increased as she could just barely hear the sounds of screams from up above as the house began to break apart, the structure unable to take the increased pressure that her voice was causing as she could almost imagine the foundations of her home shaking all around her.

At this point Alexis could only hope that she would be able to exit what was left when she was done.

But she’d told the man that they would know what she could do when they heard her roar, and she meant to show them.

As she continued her barrage, the house finally started to give way, and only a short while later there was nothing left.

*                        *                       *

Indio, CA

November 4th, 2020

It was good to be alive, especially when your enemies though you were dead. Alexis put the pedal of her appropriated government vehicle down a little harder and drove, following the sunset as she made her way towards a new life.

The End

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The Painted Actress (part X)

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(continued)

Tillamook, OR

July 23rd, 2020

“So you’re saying that Jaymie Bluevine is still alive?”

“Yes,” Dylan said impatiently, wringing his hands together as he stared hard at the interviewer, “No one wants to believe me but if we could just get a DNA order we could-”

“A DNA order?” the man scoffed, “For what? She hasn’t done anything to warrant anything? Kaitlin certainly hasn’t committed a crime, she hasn’t even-”

“She did this to me!” Dylan roared, leaping up from his seat as the interviewer motioned for security to come and get him. Dylan wasn’t done though as he continued to rant and rave “She’s Jaymie Bluevine! She staged her death somehow and did this to me! She ruined my career! That bitch is Jaymie Bluevine!”

The rest was drowned out as Nico, his wife Marnie, and Kaitlin sat watching the former star get carried off the stage and into the back, still screaming at the top of his lungs about Jaymie Bluevine and what she’d done.

“So how much planning did it take?” Marnie asked from where she was cuddled up on the couch next to her husband. She was quite pretty with dark hair and blonde highlights that shouldn’t have worked but did. In fact Marnie kind of reminded Kaitlin of the old pictures she’d seen of her mother, but she was much nicer than the woman she remembered.

“Ask your hubby,” she said with a sigh, reclining on the other end of the couch, “He did most of the legwork.”

Nico just shook his head, “It’s not something I ever want to do again. Fake-losing you once is enough young lady.”

Kaitlin smiled as she chuckled, while Marnie replied with a “Hear, hear.”

She could only nod as the interviewer came back to address the audience on the TV.

Hear hear indeed.

The End

The Silver Pen

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While The Silver Pen is a name that has been taken by other businesses my own site is meant to be all about the writer and the chance they need to get their words out to the readers they desire to inform, entertain, and make aware of their voice. It’s a bit difficult to shout into the winds of the virtual world when millions of others are doing so at the same time, but The Silver Pen is going to be a site that will allow writers that simply want to come and speak their minds to do so whenever they’d like.

The purpose of this sight isn’t to get rich, it’s not even to land a specific writing deal or something steady. Instead this site is geared towards making writers aware of what it takes to survive in this kind of life. If you hadn’t heard already, the life of a writer is not always the most stable.

Unless you find a job that pays by the hour and is more or less a repetitive desk job or something that will require the writer to fulfill a continual quota one’s life as a writer will be an uncertain and very free-flowing thing. Freelancers as many of us are called know this life and we know that it’s anything but certain at times. It’s a scratch and scrape job at times as a writer attempts to find whatever work is available. Once you find  work it becomes a necessity to hold onto it as much as possible and do the best job you can to keep the person paying you interested.

That’s not what this site is about.

Writing is more than just staying alive, it’s more than paying the bills, and it’s more than getting popular with readers. It’s something we do for many reasons, but one of the strongest, underlying compulsions is that we feel the need to create, to give voice to the stories inside us, and to share those stories with whoever will listen. That’s what The Silver Pen is about.

Writers that have a story to tell are always welcome here, and will be encouraged to stop on by for a spell and relay whatever story comes to mind.

Daddy’s Girl, Mama’s Boy

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It’s an interesting concept when you have kids as to whether they’ll bond with one parent or the other on a more personal level. Sometimes they bond equally or not at all, but the stereotypes of “Daddy’s girl” and “Mama’s Boy” are pretty common throughout the world and have been adopted by many people as a means of explaining the ongoing dynamic between children and their parents.

So let’s get into it shall we?

What’s a Daddy’s Girl?

Essentially this is a girl that sees her father as the be-all of her world. He’s the strongest person in the family, he’s the one to look up to, and he’s the one she’ll go to when she has a question, a problem, or anything she needs solved. This type generally won’t exclude other family members but she will quite honestly look to daddy for a lot of things in her life first and foremost since she considers him to be the authority on a lot of things.

The one thing that seems to be felt about a lot of daddy’s girls is that they’re either very rough and tumble since they prefer to be around their father’s more often or they’re allowed to get away with being pampered and a little spoiled. Those are two extremes of course, but this is typically what’s described by many people in terms of defining the stereotype.

What’s a Mama’s Boy?

This one has a few more negative connotations to it thanks to society but just like it sounds, this is a boy that clings to his mother and looks to her for most things in his life. It’s not at all unhealthy for a boy to want to spend time with his mother and be around her, but society seems to impose a stigma upon boys that don’t want to be rough, a little more aloof, and act more like ‘guys’, which could mean a lot of things really. Mama’s boys are often ridiculed and made to appear weak simply because they enjoy spending time around a woman, even if she is their mom.

The belief that a mama’s boy is weak or in any way a lesser man than anyone else is obviously false. Some of them might not be as rough around the edges but that’s hardly a bad thing. While it’s important to have a strong male role model in the lives of both boys and girls, society tends to make some folks think that spending too much time around women can soften a young boy up and not allow him to mature as he needs to be in order to become a man.

The truth.

These stereotypes can occur naturally or can be pushed by those that believe in them and want to use them. In truth whoever a child bonds with can depend largely on who spends the most time with them. For instance there is no such thing as one or the other stereotype when dealing with a gay household or a home in which a child is under the care of a guardian or other relative. In such cases they can become just as attached and not have to worry about such labels.

But there is a note of pride in the labels if one doesn’t take them too seriously, as it indicates that parents are doing something right if their child labels themselves in such a manner, lovingly and without being too serious of course.

My Day With the Kids

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We love our kids, don’t we? With that in mind if you’re having a hard day please, think of the following:

5:00 am

I wake up, hopefully lucid and ready for the day, and stumble off to let the dog out, feed the dog, tiptoe through the house so three sets of ears won’t hear me since the wife is at work and I’m at home facing the prospect of another day with my children, which isn’t horrible but has yet to develop for the day so it’s not always easy to expect what’s coming.

6:00 am

If luck holds out I’m still tiptoeing around and not waking anyone just yet as I enjoy a quiet breakfast and a TV show turned WAY down so as not to wake anyone. My sanity has already been placed on the dresser for safekeeping until it’s needed again and the expectation of the day to come is starting to dawn on me.

6:02 am

The first child decides to wake up and make her presence known as she demands to be let out of her crib. That’s not so bad really, she just wants to be changed and given a bottle and then possibly some breakfast so it’s a thing of ease. Then comes time to play with her for a bit and watch her roll around and it’s good.

6:05 am

The other two are up now and are either rubbing the sleep out of their eyes while they ask for cartoons or are demanding breakfast until they’re reminded that demands aren’t met in this house, but manners surely are. So they turn on the charm long enough to get what they want and then proceed to talk my ear off about matters that don’t make a lot of sense but are still fun to babble on about. Oh yes, kids are great at talking about things you won’t understand, but it’s easy enough to weather.

8:00 am to 12:30 pm

Off to work after putting the youngest down for a nap, then enduring a continual and unwavering barrage of interruptions, inane questions, and requests for things that the older two know how to get themselves but won’t because it would mean doing something they don’t want to do. Somehow work gets done, handed in, and the day goes on, but the minutes have begun to tick by and the moment when the wife comes home cannot come soon enough. (love my kids, love my kids, love my kids) Oh yes, the mantra has begun.

1:00 pm to 7:15 pm

And the ensuing chaos continues until the wife, arriving home, finally gets to take some of the pressure off of the day and spend a few moments with the kids before they’re off to bed and the night, the blessed night, is all mine until those wee hours when sleep finally threatens to take me before I can finish my work and bed down for the night.

So yes, I love my kids, but how I get anything done each day is something of a mystery even to me.

Just One Reason (Among Many) Why Religious Leaders are Frowned Upon

Does anyone still wonder why people have an issue with religion? I certainly hope not since things such as you might see in the clip above are beginning to take a toll on those that steer clear of organized religion AND those that still practice. While John Oliver might be the kind of guy that will gladly point out the glaring inaccuracies of one organization or another, he’s also spot on when it comes to the points he makes.

Why do religious leaders need to live a life of luxury?

Agreed, they should be living a comfortable life for their service to the people. The places that folks gather in should be able to be built to code and made to accommodate both structural and aesthetic design. But do they have to build cathedrals that glorify the leaders? Isn’t the whole point to glorify God and His works? Do they really need luxury airliners that cost tens of millions of dollars apiece and are essentially paid for by the very people they claim to serve? What’s wrong with taking economy class wherever they’re going?

The answers to these are kind of simple and can be summed up by saying that religious leaders seem to forget the whole idea of why they are where they are. As pious as they make themselves sound and as “good” as they appear in front of the crowd, how hard do you think some of them are laughing on their way to the bank? You might not like that image or the idea of it, but think then of the sheer audacity it must take to ask people who have so very little to reach into their pockets and give whatever they can to a church that essentially gives ‘hope and prayers’ back to them in exchange for the money that actually buys food and pays the bills that keep them fed and sheltered?

It’s kind of amusing really to think of what might happen if people stopped giving.

It won’t happen since people cling to their faith as much as a person drowning at sea will cling to the surface as much as possible. People will look to anything and anyone that can give them answers they want but don’t always need. Preachers and televangelists are quite skilled at separating people from their money in the name of God and His works, stating in so many different ways that in order for them to serve Him in the name of the people they need this, they need that, and they need huge mansions to live in and to glorify themselves with fancy titles and expensive lifestyles.

The hypocrisy of their positions is just appalling at times, but the thought of what they might have to do for a living if their supply of funds was suddenly cut off is very amusing. A great number of them might actually have to go out and WORK for a living. Wouldn’t that just be a shame?

The idea of Christianity and all it bestows upon people is all well and fine, a person’s religion is their own business. But those that seek to tell others that they serve the lord while gathering such great wealth to themselves “in the name of the lord” are a bit ridiculous, not to mention some of the biggest hypocrites that have ever spoken the word of God.

Hear Me Roar (part IX)

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(continued)

Yuma, Arizona

November 3rd, 2020

What she was about to do was dangerous, it might even hurt her as well as anyone in the house, but she could only hope that it would be better than being captured and tortured, perhaps tested on, perhaps just beaten to within an inch of her life. The fireplace on this level was solid, built to last, and would no doubt withstand one massive blast if it really had to. But what she was about to do was a sustained effect that would likely test its durability as well as the integrity of the house that sat around it, above it, and even below it. She wasn’t going to be using any half-measures this time, she wanted to be sure that she made the people upstairs realize just who they were messing with.

The ability she had shouldn’t have been possible outside of a comic book or a movie, and it shouldn’t have been able to be unleashed without ripping her to pieces. But she’d used it once before to massive effect and had reduced no less than three grown men to bleeding, quivering lumps of flesh as she’d caused nearly every interior organ to explode form the force she’d generated.

And it was all because of her voice.

As she positioned herself upon the hearth, laying her back half in and halt out of the fireplace, she laid down so that her face was looking up into the blackness above her. She knew where the fireplace was in the upper level, and she knew where the chimney bisected her home. It was going to be one massive explosion when her voice reached a crescendo, and it could possibly bring the house down on her. That was okay, as long is brought it down on her aggressors too she’d have done her job.

So thinking, Alexis began quietly, opening her mouth as the sound began to issue forth.

(to be concluded)

The Painted Actress (part IX)

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(continued)

Moda Center

Portland, OR

July 23rd, 2020

Her set was over, the people had loved her, and she was putting her guitar away when a name she hadn’t heard in some time came wafting out of the doorway.

“Jaymie…Bluevine.”

Kaitin had trained herself not to react to this name and so upon hearing the speaker turned around, and felt her jaw drop.

Nico had gone off to grab them both something to eat and was planning on meeting her at the back entrance where the performers and roadies came in. He probably wouldn’t be back for another twenty minutes, which was more than enough time for Dylan, her former costar, to do or say whatever it was he’d come for.

Doing her best to keep her composure, Kaitlin replied, “Pardon me? How’d you get back here?”

“Don’t,” Dylan almost snarled at her, the sneer in his upper lip made all the worse by the fact that when he’d hit the water they’d been a little too close to the rocks, and a piece of shrapnel had rebounded, catching him in the face and laying him open from the left corner of his lip to his hairline. She’d read about it in the papers, he’d had extensive cosmetic surgery done to repair a lot of the damage but he’d also suffered a bit of nerve damage that had left him looking as though he had a constant curl to his upper lip.

“Don’t deny who you are, we both know the truth.”

“Sorry,” she shrugged, “I’m not sure what you’re-”

“You did this to me you bitch!” he yelled at her, pointing at his face, “I was one of the hottest things going just a year ago and you had to go and do this to me!”

The sound of running feet announced the big, burly security guards that had been stationed out in the hall, and before either Dylan or Kaitlin knew it they were blocking the doorway, one of them peering in as he asked, “Everything okay ma’am?”

Before she could answer Dylan snarled, “Yeah, she’s okay you dumbass. JAYMIE BLUEVINE is OKAY!”

The man that has spoken bristled slightly as he looked to Kaitlin, “Ma’am?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know what he’s talking about but he’s kind of freaking me out. Can you escort him out please?”

The two men were in the room and ushering Dylan towards the door and then down the hall before he could even sputter out another condemning yell, using her former name yet again as he cursed at her using every foul word he could think of. It was only a few seconds later that Nico came walking in, his eyes tracking down the hall before he stepped inside, closing the door behind him before depositing the food containers he was holding on the single couch that sat against the wall of the dressing room.

“Everything okay?” he asked her, looking at her carefully.

“Just an old memory,” Kaitlin said with a shrug, “That’s all.” Nico looked like he had more he wanted to say, but instead he sighed as he looked towards the food containers.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” she said, reaching for her own container.

(to be concluded)

LGBTQ, NOT LGBTQP

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Whether it’s a hoax, something blown up and out of proportion by the media, or something else entirely, the desire of pedophiles to be united with the LGBTQ community is something that really doesn’t need to happen. The mere thought that anyone that looks at a child with anything resembling lust or even admits that they’re attracted children is fairly sickening, but the idea that they might want the act to become something understood and accepted by any facet of society is more than absurd, it’s a death sentence waiting to happen.

The LGBTQ community is not having it.

Can you blame them? The community has had to deal with people linking them to pedophiles for quite some time now when in truth nothing could be further from the truth. The LGBTQ community is not in any way supportive of pedophiles and have made it loud and clear that they’re not willing to accept such individuals as part of their communities any more than anyone else is. The act of normalizing pedophilia and treating it either as a disease or as something that is quite natural has become the bane of many a parent and child in recent years as pedophiles have been making a case to be heard for their beliefs.

Trouble on the horizon.

The reason it might be a hoax or just a ploy by the media to stir up trouble is that to really be noticed pedophiles would have to gather in numbers and possibly announce themselves to the public. As some of them might already be labeled as sex offenders it could be that they’re already known, and further exposing themselves could be highly dangerous. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not about to defend pedophiles, but mass murders in the streets (yes it’s over-dramatic but bear with me) wouldn’t be the best idea, as this is something that many people might envision should pedophiles be given the kind of consideration they’re wanting. NAMbLA was already a fiasco as it was highly criticized despite the fact that it was protected by the First Amendment and those joining couldn’t be prosecuted until they’d actually molested a child.

But if pedophiles keep pushing for equal treatment then they’ll have to realize that people that don’t hold with their beliefs are going to push back even harder than those that pushed back against the LGBTQ community for so long, and still do unfortunately.

The difference? The LGBTQ community are typically consenting adults or kids that are coming out and need support, not adults that are seeking the opportunity to love children in a consensual and adult manner. So anyone wondering why the hatred for pedophiles is so much greater needs to realize this big, glaring difference.

 

Did He Just Take His Keys?

Road rage is one thing and it’s bad enough when two people go at it, but this seems like something worse. As you watch the clip you should at least feel your eyes widen a bit as the guy that finally walks off reaches into the other guy’s car to grab something before taking off and getting in his own car.

Did he get his keys?

It seems that way. So now the guy didn’t get to finish the fight AND he’s stranded on the road with a bunch of drivers behind that will no doubt be getting severely impatient if they’re not there already. Ever been on the freeway or the highway or just anywhere when someone seems to have forgotten how to move their car forward? Ever seen when you get closer that their car is somehow incapacitated and they simply can’t move? It kind of makes you feel like a jerk for anything you might have said or thought, but in this case you can’t help but feel a little bit sorry for the guy that lost his keys since it just gets worse.

Scrape ’em off.

When the guy goes after the individual that got his keys that person is already starting to pull away and instead of just gunning it and losing the guy they decide to come as close to committing vehicular manslaughter as they can by peeling the pursuer off the car in a collision that sent the guy flying upward and then crashing back to the ground. From the angle and the shot you would have thought that the guy would be down for the count, but he got right back up and started moving around. Of course if the guy really got his keys then he’s going to have to call AAA, unless of course he needs to call a doctor first. That was a pretty nasty shot.

Road rage is satisfying for all of a moment but the ramifications can be huge.

Your blood can boil, you can get frustrated, and being stuck in traffic or having to deal with other drivers can be nerve-wracking at times. Shouting out the window at them is one thing, but the moment it escalates it has the potential to become assault that can lead to criminal charges if someone, anyone, gets your license plate number, description, or anything that can be used to track you down.

Road rage isn’t worth it, think about that before you jump out of the car and act the fool.