Top Writers Block: Behind The Mask

By Top Writers Block

Masks hide things - people, personalities, fears...find out what is behind the mask in the latest collection of short stories and a poem from Top Writers Block. There's strange things...horrible things...nice things...mysterious things...all hiding...

This collection includes stories by Elizabeth Rowan Keith, Suzy Stewart Dubot, Tracey Howard, Melissa A. Szydlek, Cleve Sylcox, and John R. Muir.

Your purchase of this ebook not only supports the creative outlets of independent authors, but also supports charity. Top Writers Block is an international group of writers who continue to donate ALL of their proceeds to Sea Shepherd in France, an organization that devotes itself to preserving our seas and oceans and the life within. The authors' donate all proceeds to charity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Top Writers Block
• Release date: Dec 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310084751

Top Writers Block

Top Writers Block is a diverse and eclectic group of talented writers who decided to write stories together - just for the fun of it! We are happy to announce that authors proceeds have always gone, and will continue to go, to Sea Shepherd.fr every time Smashwords has made a payment! Thank you to those who have supported the group, independent authors, and Sea Shepherd. Our collections are usually written with one theme or genre in mind. Each author contributes when they have the time, so some of the collections have as many as twelve authors participating. Every collection has something new, with stories and poems ranging from romance, drama, and adventure to mystery, fantasy, and horror. All the Top Writers Block's proceeds will go to Sea Shepherd, so by buying you are helping to keep our oceans alive! Thank You all so much!

Book preview

A Collection of Short Stories

by

TOP WRITERS BLOCK

Written on the theme:

Behind the Mask

Copyright ©November 2015 by each individual author as noted

Published on Smashwords

ISBN: 9781310084751

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Smashwords 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.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

The Real Me by Tracey Howard

He Came Through the Gate by Melissa A. Szydlek

The Three Messy Little Pigs by John R. Muir

Masquerade by Cleve Sylcox

Holding On to Sanity by Suzy Stewart Dubot

Breakfast with a Story Elizabeth Rowan Keith

THE REAL ME

by

Tracey Howard

Copyright ©November 2015 Tracey Howard

Tracey is a stay at home wife and mother who has lived all over the United States. She is currently living in northern Indiana with her husband of nearly twenty years, their 15 year old daughter and two hairballs of the canine variety. She is an avid reader with an insatiable appetite, surpassed only by her child, to whom she has passed on the reader trait. She is a self-taught amateur shutterbug and although she has been writing for the majority of her adult life, she only recently put both words and pictures out there for the world to see.

When I step

Outside my door

I am strong

My shoulders straight

My burdens balanced

I am tall

And I am confident

All you will see

All you will know

Is my sass

In the sway of

My ample hips

The bright smile

I always wear

Daring the world

To do its best

I will not bend

I will not cower

I am titanium

And I am above

The petty whispers

The ugly words and

The jealous arrows that fly

Can not

Will not

Penetrate my skin

My bright eyes

Stay focused ahead

Always looking forward

Never back

No second guessing

My intelligence

My humor

Shine forth

A bright beacon

Inviting all that would

To dance

Through life with me

My imagination

My heart

Both wide open

A living testament

To the joy

Of love and acceptance

Room for all

Who would find

Happiness

Freedom

Jumping through

The mud puddles of life

While holding hands

With me

I am always willing

To help those I love

Forge their unique paths

I will cheer them on

Their accomplishments

As empowering to me

As my own

At the end of the day

I will walk

Through my door

Into my dark

Inner sanctum

Peeling back

All the layers

My sass

My energy

My strength

My power

My heart

My soul

And as each layer

Falls away

Only then

I acknowledge

The pinpricks

The tiny drops

Of my life blood

Drawn from

Arrows of hate

Jealousy

Intolerance

I face each day

My tired hands

And numbed fingers

Slowly extract

Each and every

Poisoned darts

Down to the last layer

The final barrier

Between myself

And those

Who surrounded me

Is pulled away

Exposing the real me

Behind the mask

©2015 Tracey Howard

###

Return to the Table of Contents

HE CAME THROUGH THE GATE

by

Melissa A. Szydlek

Copyright ©November 2015 Melissa A. Szydlek

Melissa Szydlek lives in the United States. Originally from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, she survived Detroit for many years and has settled into a quieter life in North Carolina. She is an avid animal rights activist and dedicated vegetarian. Her ebooks can be found on Smashwords at https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/mszydlek

You can also connect with her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/MSzydlekWriter?ref=hl

Tessa’s hands continued to shake even as she reached for the door to the pub. The latch made a metallic clinking noise and Tessa withdrew, pulling away from the door, a scowl on her face. Inside, Newson the bartender looked up from his inventory sheet and could tell it was Tessa, even through the frosted glass of the doors. She took another step backward and felt a hand on her upper shoulder. She had backed into someone on the sidewalk.

I’m sorry, excuse me, she said.

The pub door opened.

Tessa? Newson asked. You okay? We heard about your brother-in-law. We’re all very sorry for your sister. Tessa?

The stranger, his hand still on Tessa’s shoulder, looked at Newson.

She all right, mister? the man asked.

There’s been a death in her family, Newson said. I’m sure she’ll be okay.

The stranger looked at Tessa with uncertainty. You sure? She looks like she’ll fall down if I move my hand.

Newson approached Tessa, who stared at the sidewalk, her hands still shaking.

I’ll take it from here, thanks, Newson said.

The stranger nodded, his brow furrowed, and walked on while Newson led Tessa to the door. When Newson reached for the latch, Tessa tensed, awaiting the metallic clinking noise again. Instead, Newson’s grip was sturdy, and all she heard was the door opening. She relaxed and let Newson lead her to the bar. He sat her down on a stool and moved back behind the counter.

Albert Grady and his twin brother, Ashburn, lifted their glasses to Tessa. She tried to smile, but it came out as a slight nod instead.

Sorry about your brother-in-law, Albert said.

Tessa nodded.

Sorry for Vera too, Ashburn added. How is she?

How are any of us, after what happened? Tessa whispered.

The funeral was so fast, Newson said, setting a double shot of bourbon on the counter in front of Tessa. None of us knew, you know we would have come, had we known.

It was a long sickness for Ted, Tessa said, downing the small glass in one large gulp. Ted wanted it over with, his funeral that is, quick and easy, no mourners he said. We should have cremated him.

He’s buried over in the family plot? Next to Vera’s house? Newson asked.

Tessa nodded, tapping the empty glass on the counter. Newson poured another double.

He’s buried there all right, Tessa said. But he wont’ stay there.

****

Ted Filter died at age 42 while sitting in front of the fireplace in his living room reading. An aneurism, the doctor had said. His wife, Vera, and his sister-in-law, Tessa, found him later that day when they returned home from shopping. Vera was inconsolable. Never one to be strong in the face of tragedy or trouble, Tessa took over funeral planning, cooking, and cleaning her sister’s large home. Vera sat in the living room, staring into dark corners, the only light in the room coming from the fireplace.

You have to eat something, and stay hydrated, Tessa said, rubbing her sister’s long hair.

He’d want a fast funeral, nothing fancy, Vera whispered, holding one of Ted’s handkerchief’s over her mouth as she spoke. He told me, and he wrote it down too.

She dabbed at