The Circle of Life

You change the moment you witness a murder. Not through the safe filter of a screen, but directly in front of you. Less than ten feet away and on your left-hand side, both times. What are the chances of such occurrences happening to one person twice?


The killers were a hawk and a weasel.


The First Time


I was sitting in my car at the grocery store parking lot. Just outside my door, where I would end up if I got out, was a pigeon. Such a cute little pigeon, with remarkable feathers that I have never noticed that the creatures possessed. Purple glints shimmered on its surface as it tilted its beady-eyed head. It looked at me, right in the face, then continued to peck at the gravel.


There was a blur. Then a confusion of flurried wings. My eyes widen as my mouth opened in shocked revulsion. My little bird that I was admiring seconds before was being crushed under the force of a hawk’s claws and beak. I turned away as I swallowed not wanting to see the rest of it. I waited till the predator carried off its prize before I finally got out of the car.


I was disturbed, even though, deli-sliced turkey was written near the top of my shopping list.


The Second Time


Bunnies can scream. I know this because I witnessed one’s sad demise.


I was walking down the driveway and the bushes shivered as the rabbit darted in front of me. It was unaware or undisturbed by my quiet presence. It had bigger problems to worry about, for a determined killer almost half its size was closing in on it.


The pair for a moment dashed back into the underbrush. They popped back out directly and this time the weasel had the advantage. The devilish thing flipped the plump bunny on its back and bit down on its neck. They writhed as the weasel’s tail coiled around its catch.


A scream pierced my soul and I almost cried. It was so unexpected, that shrill abject noise. I had no idea that such a mild looking thing could produce such a sound.


I started to flee the scene. The killer, just realizing my presence, dragged its prey back into the bushes out of sight.


Nature is harsh they say. The circle of life must continue and you deal with it. I can’t help but wonder how the pigeon and the rabbit felt about it though.


In conclusion and in the light of these experiences I have learned that I am an easily traumatized hypocrite.





Weird experience with a lawn mower and an umbrella.

Clever remarks only come to me when the proper moment for them has grown cold. When I’m on my lonesome, turning the event over in my mind, I whisper them to myself in triumph. Chagrin immediately crowds the transitory pleasure of coming up with something.

The Event That Could Have Gone Better

Today I was helping my Dad mow a lawn. It was raining and I was commissioned to operate a riding mower. So being myself, I regarded comfort over pride unconsciously and propped an umbrella between my knees as I zigzagged over the lawn. This method, though undignified, effectively kept me dry.

Of course I knew that my decision would create a humorous image, but the thought didn’t surface in time for me to heed this fact.

Movement drew my attention to the street and I caught an outline of a man moving behind a fence. Thinking nothing of it, I completed another turn. Finished, I parked the mower and got up.

As I shut down the engine I saw the same man with his phone tilted in photo mode. At first it did not occur to me that he was trying to take a picture of me in my awkward situation. When he walked up to me I asked him if I could do anything for him.

“Uh, yeah. I missed the chance to get a picture.” He gestured toward the lawnmower.

“What? Are you serious?” I replied, my brows furrowed.

“It’s kinda funny to see someone mow a lawn with an umbrella here. Can you just sit on the mower again so I can take one really quick? Otherwise my friends will never believe me.”

Finally realizing what he was asking, I turned beet red and started to stumble over silly words mixed with giggles. “Yeah, sure.” I plopped back on the lawnmower seat and steadied the umbrella.

For some reason I felt like I needed to explain myself. “I don’t like getting wet,” I said lamely.

I shielded my face and he captured the scene. At this point I was trying to figure out why I obliged so readily to his request and I slumped in embarrassment as he walked away.

Upon reflection I wish I handled this situation with a little bit more grace and humor. I imagine myself saying something clever like, “I know I’m a spectacle, but I didn’t expect to draw a paparazzi.” I would then grin brazenly into the camera. As he thanks me I would tell him that I hope his friends get a kick out of it.

So if you ever see a picture depicting this event floating around the internet… That’s me.



Humans have developed methods for dealing with things that are unpleasant.

Push whatever it may be aside, glance at it every now and then when we gather the gumption, only to prod it back into the corner.

Justify our negligence with weak excuses.

Deny that we can do anything.

Deny our right or reason for involvement.

Deny the embers oxygen to ignite into a flame.

What is really worthy of our efforts?

The influence of passion stifled.

Let it be.

For now, we will let it be.

– RJ



I stray from the worn out routes,

Only to fall back into place.

Repetition wears a curve. You end up where you were.

More ways than one branch beneath my heels.

It’s a false start. Split are the decisions that inspire pause.

I only think about the lanes that I would like to tour.

Tracing the lines that were drawn before.

– RJ

Writing Challenge/Practice

Prompt- The hallway was silent.

Time allotted for challenge- 15 min



The hallway is silent. The shadows huddled in the corners are black and concealing. I run my fingers over the switch and flip on the light.

Nothing. I lean against the wall, my body prickling with sweat and nervousness.

Thinking back to the point when I was jerked from my sleep, I am positive I heard the mechanics of a door turning. The excess of bolts and deadlocks mocking my supposed assurance. How could I think for a moment that any action could bar him?

My bare feet sink into the carpet as I pad over to the end of the hall. The weight of my revolver lends strength to my illusion of safety.

I see him. His body is draped casually across the lumpy couch. I lightly touch my weapon but decide to leave it there. Adjusting my shirt to disguise the movement, I meet his gaze.

His eyes are locked on me. “No need for violence tonight.” I curse myself for my careless gesture. He sees everything.

I glare at the mask that shields his face. Coward.

Despite his words, he is cradling a gun of his own, turning it over in his gloved hands. I wait for him to relay the instructions. “Leave this,” he draws a small envelope from his jacket and places it on the coffee table, “in his office.” I go over and pick it up. I nod and he leaves as quickly as he came.

Soon after his hateful form is out of sight I sink to the floor. As I grip the table leg I can feel the beginnings of a fever break across my skin. The paper crumples under the pressure of my constricting fist.

I glance at the front of the sealed envelope and as usual the victim’s name and address is scrawled in red ink in the corner.

– RJ


Feel free to participate or critique. :)


Credit for prompt idea-





I Only Make the Same Mistake Twice

Embarrassed Pink

Have you ever told yourself after a mini or major disaster that you will never allow that to happen again? (I will go ahead and assume that you’re human and that you answered affirmatively.) So have I, numerously. No matter how many times I try to reiterate it into my thick skull I always end up making the same mistake twice.

Well, I’m not that stupid. Occasionally I can get it right. But, it’s not like that tidbit is, in any way, redeeming.

I realize that a few apt people have that particular portion of their problems figured out. And if by chance you are that person feel free to enlighten me with your rare and coveted wisdom.

Anyway, I’m that type of person who feels the inexplicable need to create useless lists. So I found myself making yet another one titled ‘Never Again’. Even though I know that writing it down will not serve any purpose besides forcing myself to relive the embarrassment at least I will be able to have a chuckle at myself in the future. Hopefully.

I will share a few examples of my own entries because, to be honest, I have little dignity left in me to protect.

The entries range from silly things such as, ‘I will never again let myself consume an entire chocolate bar in one sitting.’ To more embarrassing flubs like, ‘I will never again walk into a department store dressing room without knocking...’

If you were reminded of your own low moments then I would love to see what special kind of idiot you can be by sharing your experience.

– RJ

Credit for drawing- Breanna Rose