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Literary Awards: AWC Prose and Erdel Family Memorial Awards (3rd Place). Publication Credits: Shreveport Times, Sunday At Four, Links, Electronic Poetry Network, French Dressing: An Autobiographical Blend of Poetry and Prose (self-published book), Inspired By: A Collection of Words (self-published chapbook), Diversity (self-published informational and poetic pamphlet), Gender Lexicon (self-published pamphlet). Editorial Credits: About the Rainbow (Shreveport PFLAG newsletter) - 2 years, Handbook For Newborn Adults (by Michael Barker), Standing At the Edge (chapbook by the Trapped Truth Society & West Edge Books and News), self-published chapbook and pamphlets (above). Organizations: Trapped Truth Society, Shreveport Writers' Club, North West Louisiana Haiku Society, Red River ReWriters, Fertile Pen Group. Contact Information: pamraintree@yahoo.com 318-674-8882 Writing Samples It was natural that Momma trusted Daddy to protect her from things that squeak in the night. She weighed less than the sacks of pea gravel he filled and tossed off of trains eight hours a day. Being twice her weight and half a foot taller, Daddy was downright burly by comparison, even if he was too short for the New Orleans Police Department. He didn't talk much about that. He'd been the fleet champion boxer in the Navy too. Momma was also impressed the time she'd heard a prowler outside the window. The next thing you know, Daddy had clobbered an innocent mule with a roll of nickels, knocking the creature unconscious. I don't know whether or not the mule learned to stop sneaking around houses at night, but Daddy won more of Momma's respect. After supper on Saturdays Momma tuned in WWL on the radio to listen to the station's classical music sales hour. I think, mostly, she did that so Daddy wouldn't miss any of the Grand Old Oprey, which came on immediately afterwards. Heck, she may have actually liked that stuff. In any case, we were all sitting around listening to the radio when she suddenly interrupted the regularly scheduled program by jumping up on her chair screeching, "Bill! There's a mouse!" Daddy was an old-fashioned fellow who believed in chivalry, honor, and showing off for women and children, meaning he grabbed his trusty lance - broom - to give chase. The mouse, a cute little brown one that wouldn't be in the habit of housebreaking, ran frantically from corner to corner looking for an exit. Daddy was running around behind the fell beast, swatting at lamps, children, pets, and himself. After a brief eternity, it decided to duck under the refrigerator, probably to avoid being smashed by the furniture Daddy was knocking over, as there was little danger of Momma's brave knight actually hitting him with anything else. Under other circumstances, the old Kelvinator may have been a safe haven, but Daddy's reputation was at stake, and his adrenaline level was as high as Minnie Pearl's "Howdy!" The children, all four of us, had gotten caught up in the excitement too, and squealed in unison with Momma, "He's under the fridge!" Daddy heard us in time to spare some larger pieces of furniture and flung himself at the ice box. It tipped back easily enough for him to hold it up with one hand and probe the darkness below it with the broom in a flurry of sweeping jabs and naval jargon. The furry monster charged right between Daddy's feet. The fridge hit the floor at about the same time as Momma. Daddy denied that he was trying to climb on her chair and added an item to his list of taboo topics. The great grandchildren of the mouse are probably still talking about how he toppled the insane giant and escaped. By Pamela Raintree Previously published in Inspired By: A collection of Words Recall a kiss, A snowdrop in time, An ill-fated finish. Who's last supper was it? Who's wedding? Who's first date? Snowdrops, raindrops, teardrops, dewdrops, Eternal moments in time Bounding loves, binding lives, Cutting ties like serrated knives. A cold kiss. Who's casket? Kisses, caskets, weddings, tears Time in a snowdrop Kissing Stonehenge. |
