Corroborate and execrable

Lacking the single eye, future weak with the pressures of other voices. This is where you make your stand. This is where you decide what you want and what you're willing to do to get it.

Limn, quandary, and genuflect

All the places she once had known as refuge became houses of mourning and turmoil. She could no longer turn to the open arms of her studio to paint her grief. Instead she fell to her knees and bowed her head, as if to say, Thank you, and I'm sorry, and I have faith, even though I don't understand.

Malfeasance, synecdoche, and plenary

You whisk away my words as if you resented me for being interested, but weren't you the one who shared the anecdote, who said, I am friendly, come talk to me. Or was that just meant to present an image of yourself that is different from who you really are? Did you wear a mask that night when I thought you so kind and lovely? Maybe we were all duped. Maybe I should let you have your silence. Goodness knows I don't need to waste my time.

Expeditious, alfresco, and bailiwick

Close your eyes and wait for the sound, for the crack of the gun, the gasp of the crowd. Breathe in, breathe out, but breathe quietly. Don't just take in the air; become it. Only then will you run as quickly, as easily as the wind. Only then will the ground let you float over it, and the earth spin towards you. This is the one thing you know, the one thing that is yours. Don't let anyone take it from you. Don't lose.

Misprize

Mizprized youth, I hang on so tightly, clenched fist around the last jewel of the Titanic. But maybe this does me more harm than good, maybe this is why I am "strong but young," maybe this is why no one knows my name, and my words are on a screen rather than in print. How do I shed the innocence I have tried so desperately to hold on to?

Otiose and waylay

He waits in the dark, eyes narrow slits seeking the light. He makes no noise; he does not wish to disturb his prey. His muscles are tense with excitement and anticipation. The moment is coming soon, and they will be spry, ready for action.

Minutes later, or maybe hours, the door opens, and light spills in. He is released. He springs into action.

"Oh geez, down, boy! Get down, mpmhhph, stopmhffm."

He silences her voice with his persistent licking.

"You crazy dog."

Grumbling, she rises to begin her day, willing or not. He leaps to the spot she has just left, circles three times, and then lies down in her abandoned warmth. She sighs, unable to resist him.

"Good boy," she says, patting his head and kissing the scruff of his neck. "You're a pain in the butt, but I love you anyway."

Circumlocution, aficionado, and legerdemain

As a girl I read of true love between two deceivers. Magicians, they called themselves. Thieves. And true to their claims, their story captivated me, enchanted me. Was this the first seed planted? Is this why I now spin my words to see what stories I can weave?

Plaudit, euphonius, and sobriquet

Clapping came from the darkness. "Beautiful," a man's voice said. Only the stage where she stood was lit; the rest was as black as the bow in her long blonde hair. She thought she could hear his feet as they padded on the carpeted floor. His sounds were getting closer.

Magdalena stopped playing and held her bow in front of her like a weapon. The viola fell to her side. "Who's there?"

"Oh, Maggie, don't be afraid."

He sounded familiar, frighteningly so, and he knew her name. She took a step back.

"Maggie, I won't hurt you."

Tears began to roll down her cheeks. She didn't know his name or his face, but she knew his lies. She'd first heard them years ago, on the first and last time her mother had ever left her home alone. She'd heard them whispered between the dresses and the long pants in her mother's closet. Then his breath had mixed with the smell of moth balls. But the darkness he hid in now was the same.

Implacable

"Do you really think you couldn't have been happy here?" he asked. "Or was it that you couldn't have been happy anywhere?"

Tina stared at him and wondered where the hell he got the nerve. And the insight.

Officious

Maybe I shouldn't be so willing.

Rubicund

I realized with a small sense of satisfaction -- very, very small satisfaction -- that her perfect fair skin, normally glowing with otherworldly luminance, made her more susceptible to the redness of emotion. Blushing embarrassment, fiery anger, bleeding sorrow. Even with this color she radiated beauty, but it left her transparent, vulnerable, raw.

I sighed and put my arm around her shoulder. "Let's go get a drink, huh?"

Slugabed, donnybrook, and littoral

You used to be such a pain to take to the lake, the letter began.

###

Sarah was the one who decided we should go. She and I used to play there long ago, back when we were teenagers in Discovery, and she wanted you girls to know it too. In a way, that was where y'all were born.

Not even Emily was excited about driving an hour every Sunday morning to Discovery -- and she wondered what would happen to our souls now that we were abandoning church services. But your mother insisted that this was a better way of worship. "God has already told me everything," she said. "He understands that I need y'all more than he does right now."

I let her sleep in while I went to wake you girls up. The first time I thought I'd have to knock you out and carry you to the car. You kicked and screamed like a mad dog, though I think now it's because I interrupted some scary dream. Later on you were only grumpy and sullen, but that was normal for you.

"Five more minutes," you mumbled from under a hot dog bun of covers. Your leg poked out like a stringy onion.

Just like your mother, you always took longer than you said but less time than I expected. It was a maddening trait, but how could I be upset? I was happy to know that you would always share that with her.

Finally, after a long morning of grumbling and waiting, we got into the van and drove to Lake Caron. Like Sarah remembered, that place had a touch of magic, and even on your worst days, you and Emily had fun. Maybe it was like Sarah said: God knew she needed us, and so He made sure we gave the best of ourselves to her.

For five months this was our weekend ritual. What we didn't tell you was that those would be the last five months of your mother's life. We didn't want you girls to be scared. We thought we were doing what every parent should: protecting you. But when she was gone, I had no one to help me, no one to share the burden of protecting, decision-making, raising. Loving. And I guess my heart got scared -- like being surprised in the middle of a bad dream, it kicked and screamed. I know I was never the same after she died. I know I wasn't a good father to you.

I'm sorry.

Volte-face

I want to be sure. I seek certainty in even the smallest of decisions, so how could I accept anything less for the guidance and direction of our nation? We hear sound bytes, mockery, accusations, and accolades, but what is truth? Where is the seed, the germ of genuineness that will grow into the strong, stable tree of justice and betterment? If I look, I know who I like. But what are appearances? Nothing more than a mask. I need to know the person who wears it, their true nature, their true motives, their future actions. But no one has this crystal ball. And if they did, surely they would be using it for less noble ends.