Life

By Pamela Caves

Life is a collection of literary poems and short stories by Pamela Caves. It features the short stories, "Into Pieces", "Theory of a Tramp", and "Lost and Found".

"Into Pieces" is a retelling of the classic nursery rhyme, "Humpty Dumpty". Prince Uptree must choose between love and his brother's kingdom.

"Theory of a Tramp" gives us a glimpse of what happens when paranoia combines with an unstable mind and an unhealthy life-style. Olivia finds a racy text on her husband's phone and begins to plot his death.

"Lost and Found" is a story about one woman's grief after losing her mother. When a prostitute steals her mother's bracelet, the last thing Monica has of her mother's, she sets out on a determined journey to recover it, ignoring the danger. What she finds, instead, is something completely unexpected.

Also enjoy poetry that sings of the trials and joys of life; hardship, loneliness, grief, determination, and love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pamela Caves
• Release date: Mar 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310066986

Pamela Caves

Pamela is a teacher and writer living in northern Alabama.

Book preview

Life

Pamela Caves

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 Pamela Caves

Learn more about this author at www.PamelaCaves.com

Also discover Life Odd, a collection of sci-fi, fantasy, and

paranormal short stories and poetry by Pamela Caves.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to www.Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Life includes the short stories:

Into Pieces

Theory of a Tramp

Lost and Found

and the poems:

My Friend

The Thing About Love

The Path Alone

Double

Storm and Calm

Suddenly

To Protect Her Daughter

The Wanderer

Colors of the New Year

The Circle

Long Cold

My Friend

Silence cannot cover what I feel

With the life you left behind

I know you're rejoicing

But now I'm blind

God give me strength

To tackle this new day

But without you in it

My heart just won't be the same

Someday I'll see light

Over the mute I see today

But just for a while

Let me stay

The Thing About Love

Love is a clichéd thing

With its edges and seams

Patches and protrusions

Love is a wild thing

With its cries and screams

Scrapes and bruises

Love is a tired thing

With its braces and themes

Branches and uses

But it doesn't matter.

Love is a true thing

With its life and dreams

Bursting with new

Though time wears us thin

And life rubs us raw

The trail is left dim

When a breath we can't draw

For love is a great thing

That binds us through

For when I think of love in this way

I always think first of you

Into Pieces

I have no desire to bare false witness here. When I first saw young Ezmira dancing on the stage, I’d like to be noble and say it was love at first sight. I want to be the gentleman and say I knew at that moment she would be the woman I would marry and have children with. But alas, none of that is true.

As I sat in the front row and watched her hips rock from side to side and her glistening belly so slightly pitch, it was my loins that spoke first. Her arms were covered lightly with a sheer turquoise that fluttered in the breeze. She looked like a goddess as she waved her hands back and forth to the beat of the drums. Her hair was black as midnight and it hung down her back in one long thick braid. Her skin was a silky bronze. I wanted very much to bed the exotic beauty, to see if she moved as fluidly under the sheets as she did on stage.

She served her purpose on stage well. I hadn’t paid any mind to the magician who occupied the space near her. The next thing I knew, he produced a dove from behind a red silk cloth which, just a moment ago, had been empty. The crowd roared with delight and I, too, applauded my amazement.

And now, the magician stated, whose name I hadn’t managed to catch, I shall transform the lovely Ezmira into a work of art!

Another round of applause thundered the stands of the amphitheater. I was anxious to see how he would pull off the slight-of-hand but also dismayed about losing sight of the dark goddess.

She moved in one smooth motion toward the center of the stage where the magician flipped another red silk cloth, this one much larger than the last. He held it up and demonstrated to the audience that there was nothing behind it. Ezmira danced toward it. The magician covered her and flashed the audience a sneaky grin. He uttered the standard magic words then removed the cloth to reveal a canvas painting of Ezmira in her place. It was beautiful, one of the best artistries I’d ever seen. The painting was so realistic it even captured the beads of sweat on her brow. The audience gasped then gave him a deafening applause. But I only sat there with my mouth agape, almost as captivated at the perfect image of Ezmira as I was the real thing.

Thank you! Thank you! the magician said and took his bow.

I stood and, as royalty, once he gave his customary bow towards me, I tipped my hand toward him in courtesy. I grinned slightly to show him I thoroughly enjoyed his performance.

The announcer introduced the next performer of the show, an opera singer from the court of France. After that came a pair of little Asian girls who could bend their bodies in poses that were quite