The TAF Omnibus: The TAF Omnibus, #2

By Arlene S. Bice and Chanah Wizenberg

No one remembered if it was the Lovers or the Astronomers who first noticed the stars were disappearing.--------  No hurdle is too high for God.. -----  Edd the sociopath slumped in his overstuffed leather chair, glowering across the desk at his psychologist, Dr. Azabal. ------"I can beat your son up!" Jamiel angrily exclaimed.--------   Given all the debates about flags, memorials and white supremacy, does it sometimes feel like we're still fighting the Civil War?------"Yes, Maam, come on down.  We have some fine cars here. -------  It was a common tradition at our family's house growing up in Canada ------ My mouth aches for the taste of a sun-ripened tomato. A real tomato.-------- I lived in constant anxiety. ------ 

So begins fascinating stories, exciting memoirs and concerned essays. Add a few poems and a fractured fairy tale and you have an omnibus that will make you wonder, bring tears, laugh, shake your head and think deep thoughts. It's a great read! Enjoy!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Triangle Association of Freelancers
• Release date: Sep 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223910558

Book preview

The TAF Omnibus Triangle Association of Freelancers (Stories, Essays & Poems) Copyright © August 2023

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the copyright owner, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review. Each author published herein is the owner of his/her copyright in their respective selection. Following this first publication of the selected works, the authors are free to re-publish these selections elsewhere. For permissions related to The TAF  Omnibus or the individual selections within, email:  [e-mail]. 

For more information about TAF and the authors published here, visit the TAF website at www.tafnc.com.

Publisher: Triangle Association of Freelancers

Cover Design by: [e-mail]

––––––––

Project Editor: Arlene S. Bice

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to all readers and writers

to all who donate and supply books

to those in need of books

to keep writings by human beings alive.

Also, to every person who shows kindness to another.

Additional TAF Publications

A Taste of Taffy:  Samplings from TAF

TAF Stays Home: 29 Freelancers Writing

The TAF Reader:  Books on Freelance Writer’s Shelf

The TAF Omnibus: Stories & Poems Vol. I

No matter what people tell you, words and ideas can change the world. —

Robin Williams

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction 

Living in an RV.     C. Wizenberg

Menopause Mayhem   C. Wizenberg

Because I Am Me    S. Ryan

Hiding or Telling    S. Ryan

Mending Truth    S. Ryan

Blinkle Out     D. Grebow

A Kilted Kiss    N. Badger

The Last Four Seasons   K. Pennington

Prose Poem     K. Pennington

Grandmother's Garden   S. Tyson

Creature Without a Heart   E. Hoffman

Old Cedar ~ Tree of Life   T. Michels

Like Father, Like Son,    T. Michels

Two Roads Traveled M Henderson-D 

Into the Wasteland    D. Vaughan

WOW     M. Toman

Southern Summer    L. Bartholomew

Deracination    T. Harmon

Look Out Below!!!   M. Rumble Baking Butter Cookies         D. Martinez-Bey

A Tiny Road Trip   M. Her-Giddens

No Hurdle is too High    A. G. Brennan

Retreat, Restore, Renew,   A. G. Brennan

TABLE OF CONTENTS con’t

Trick or Sweet     F.  Hyman

Historians Deserve a D    F.  Hyman

Big Night (and Day)Tuscany   F.  Hyman

A Lovely Space       L. Clemmons

Where to Go Tomorrow      A Shapkaliska

When Words Become Stones   L. Tomey-Z

Gathered Around      L. Tomey-Z

Sounds      L. Tomey-Z

Remedy        L. Tomey-Z

Independence Day     S. B. Tubbs

Head Games      M. Cantrell

About the Glass Slipper      A. S. Bice 

Our Writers

The Editor

Acknowledgements  

INTRODUCTION

The Songs We Sing as Writers

Writers create because they have to. The overwhelming need to tell a story, whether fiction or nonfiction, is a driving force, something we must attend to because we can’t turn it off. It demands our time and attention because it’s in our heart and soul, unrelenting.

Example: At the height of his career, Robert Silverberg was publishing one million words a year. Known today primarily as a science fiction and fantasy author, Silverberg refused to be confined by genre or form. In addition to penning some of the most influential science fiction novels and short stories of the 20th century, Silverberg wrote erotica and historical fiction under a variety of pen names. He wrote biographies of famous people, and tomes on ancient civilizations and archaeology, two of his passions. He wrote for the men’s adventure magazines, the digests, the pulps and the slicks. Robert Silverberg wrote because he was driven. 

That same driving force is the engine pulling The TAF Omnibus: Stories, Essays & Poems Vol. II. The contributors within all have a tale to tell, though they approach their stories in a variety of ways. Some are serious, others funny. Some are poignant, others farce. They cover a spectrum of forms and genres, though many defy convention. All are entertaining.

This volume was produced in celebration of Triangle Association of Freelancers’ 20th anniversary as a writing organization. Over the past two decades, we have grown from a handful of writers meeting monthly in the back of a coffee shop to one of the largest writing organizations in North Carolina. TAF became a nonprofit in 2017 with a mission of offering networking, education and mentoring to writers in all forms, and has helped many writers make that all important first sale or advance their careers in other ways. It’s a mission that makes us proud.

The TAF Omnibus is a fundraiser for the organization, but more importantly, it’s a showcase for our members’ creative efforts. Writing is never easy, and a lot of blood, sweat and tears went into the stories you’ll find within these pages. Bravery, too, because putting a story into the ether for the faceless public to read is akin to casting your heart into the sky in a desperate bid for love. What will be the response? Will you be loved or rejected?

We hope you enjoy the stories, poems, essays and more within this volume. Perhaps they will inspire you to try your hand at storytelling. Reach into your heart and tell us what you find. We promise it will be amazing.

-—Don Vaughan, Founder

Triangle Association of Freelancers

CHANAH WIZENBERG

received her BA from Hunter College in English and Creative Writing. Her work was published in Heron Clan Vol. 8, TAF Stays Home, Reflections & Revelations, Fines Lines, and Cary Magazine. She has been a professional ballerina, a pastry chef, and English teacher. She resides in Raleigh, North Carolina with her dog, Asha, and her cat, Marmalade.

Living in an RV. What Could be Bad?

I lived in constant anxiety. Would today be the day the HVAC system would fail? There were plumbing issues too. It had already backed up into the washing machine and toilet twice. The townhouse I live in is owned by my brother-in-law. It was supposed to be my house, but that’s another story. The dishwasher was also on the fritz. The house was becoming something akin to that movie, The Money Pit. My brother-in-law didn’t have the money to replace anything, and neither would my disability income.

To get my mind off my troubles, I immersed myself in YouTube videos on RV Living, which, compared to my current circumstances, looked like heaven. Such freedom! I contemplated living under open, star-filled skies, fresh air, and surrounded by the sights and sounds of nature. Sounded like perfection to me. Every necessity in a modest RV. There’d be no rent, no utilities; best of all, no roommates! Everyone in these videos lived with their dog or cat. I looked over at Asha, my dog and curled up beside her, my cat, Marmalade-my two best friends. After watching these videos for a couple of weeks, I decided: sell the house, and move into an RV! What could be bad?

I must confess, I have ADD with an intermittent H. My doctor has prescribed the highest dose a person can take of Strattera, what my oldest son calls my pay attention medicine. I stopped taking it. No, I don’t know why I stopped other than, I tired of taking a pill every day. 

I called my brother-in-law about my decision.

Sure! What a fantastic idea!

It hit me, uh yeah, great for him-no more mortgage payments or house problems to deal with. I didn’t pay rent because I cared for my mother, who had Alzheimer’s disease, in exchange for his paying the mortgage. And no, neither one of us considered how I’d care for her while living in an RV. Nor did I factor in how attached I’d become to North Carolina, or that no overnight parking was permitted anywhere in Raleigh.

The house sold almost immediately after putting it on the market and I found an RV-C. That’s the kind that is self-contained. Next, I sold off most of my cherished library, all the furniture and most everything else. I donated what I didn’t sell, kept some treasured books and art supplies, and rented a storage unit for the rest.

Fast forward. Second week in the RV, I was going through gasoline like water. But here we were-Marmalade, Asha, and I at the campground in Raleigh. I had no choice but to camp here because, remember, no overnight parking. Twenty bucks a night with hook-ups for the utilities. Not bad. Well, not bad until that thunderstorm rolled in. Not just any thunderstorm, a super-cell. Newsflash, an RV, is not the place to be in a super-cell thunderstorm. As lightning lit up the night sky, the hail pelted the roof with a deafening staccato, and powerful winds rocked us from side to side. I looked at Asha, sitting tall, ears alert, tongue hanging out of her mouth. She looked back at me. I glanced at Marmalade. He, too, was sitting up with his tail wrapped tight against his body, eyes on me. The storm raged all night. We stared at one another, wondering if we should be panicking. I listened for the distinctive locomotive sound tornados make when barreling down. I felt convinced there’d be one.

Dawn finally arrived, revealing a clear North Carolina blue sky. My mind cleared, too. I realized RV living was not for me or my pets. I would never go off my pay attention medicine again.

Menopause Mayhem

On April 9th, 2014, I arrived for my annual check-up. Upon greeting me, my doctor asked what I wanted for my birthday. Menopause, I replied. She laughed. It was one of those laughs that people do when they don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. It sounded like, ha ha, ha uh ha uh ha, that last ha fading out.

I looked at her youthful face, not even a hint of laugh lines or crow’s feet. Her neck was smooth and tight, breasts perky, round, and her hair still her own color, chestnut brown, with a beautiful shine. Mine? Gray, dry, and dull. My breasts had slid down to check out my navel and stayed there. My neck, a classic turkey neck.

As a child, I wondered why women of a certain age wore scarves around their necks. I thought that was a sophisticated, elegant look. Now I realize it was skillful concealment.

My doc was writing something down in her notes. That’s when I noticed her hands. They were absent of prominent blue veins and loose, wrinkled skin. She could be a hand model, like the hands you see in commercials. Blemish free, wrinkle free, all satiny smooth hands holding some brand name product. I glanced down at my own, then shoved them underneath my ample butt, sitting on them, embarrassed by them.

Dr. Davis was young. No wonder she hadn’t understood. I had had my kids. That part of my life was complete. I remembered my desire to have children being intense, like a physical need. Now I look forward to not having to deal with a menstrual cycle, can’t wait, in fact, for that to be over. Many women dread the