Sunday, August 30, 2015 3 words I am thankful for

Bad Writer 2

"Hello, this is Ingrid, how can I help you?"

"Good morning, this is Karen, how can I help you?"

"This is Leslie, a wha you want?" This is how I wanted to answer the phone as one more American calls about their faulty cell phone or some error on their bill. Instead of saying that, I say, "Hello, this is Leslie, how can I help you?" making sure to put a little pep in my voice to make the pissed off customer think I really care.

Care my ass. Just two more hours, then I'm out of here, but out of here to what? That's the funny thing about my life, I'm so busy waiting to get out of one place or another. When I'm home, I want to be here and when I'm here, I want to be at home. My life has been reduced to my wanting to be somewhere else.

"Hello, hello?" a southern drawl crawls through my headset and yanks my attention back to the job. "Are you still there?"

"Yes," I say, my voice like the sugar that was my island's main industry. "My apologies, according to your account, you are in three months arrears and you have been disconnected. Would you like to make a payment to have your account reinstated?"

The answer was the sound of a dial tone. You got to love the Americans.

"What you doing this weekend?" Annette, the 20 year old besides me asks. Since she started working at The Call Center, she's been trying to make a friend out of me. I still haven't decided if I'm interested.

"Working," I reply.

"Saturday and Sunday?"

I shrug, "You know how it is." Thankfully her phone rings, I didn't want to go into the nonsensical conversation about how much we hate the job. During my first year here, I would go on and on about how much I hated the place but after three years, I am so over the conversation.

Still, the only thing I like about the job is that it comes to an end.

'til next Sunday. 
Click here to read the first installment.

Image Credit: Call Center Company

Friday, August 28, 2015 0 words I am thankful for


Lend me your ears,
O' citizens of
Planet Earth.

Drink not the water
For it has been
Made foul with
Our actions, direct
And indirect.

Eat not the food
For it has been
Engineered to a fraction
That can still constitute
The final product as food.

Befriend not your fellow man
For his corrupt ways
Have left him scheming
And dishonest. His loyalty
Attached to parties, races,
Cultures to the point
That he can not see
Our common humanity.

O' citizens of Earth,
Sit back as our
Population swells and
Bloats, becoming a
Super nova, but will
It lead to our extinction?

O' how the Earth
Would heave a sigh
Of relief when
We are nothing
But fossils buried
Deep within her
Many layers.

Until that time,
As Earth waits
Patiently for our demise,
Don't drink the water,
Don't eat the food
And don't befriend
Your fellow man.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015 1 words I am thankful for


I wasn't supposed
To end up in Mississippi,
In fact, I should have
Been sailing through the sky
In a fancy jet to
A tropical island but....
Things had changed.

They had first changed
For the better and
Then they got worst,
So much worst.

As the clang of
The jail cell shattered
My reverie, I looked
Around the holding cell.

The women ranged
From hardened criminals
Who lounged around
The cell as though
It was a room in
Their home, to
Innocent women who
Sat in whatever corner
The could find, heads
Down, perhaps praying
To get out.

As for me, I was neither,
And some would say
I was both.

A seasoned criminal
Who had never been
Caught, that is until

A good con
Turned bad and
Now I was facing
Prison. And for
Some eerie reason
I was not sad.

I had accepted
My fate, but
Something told me
That at a moment's
Notice, everything could
Change for the better.

Perhaps, I will see
That tropical island
Sooner than I think.
Monday, August 24, 2015 1 words I am thankful for


The four walls
Looked back at her.
The whiteness of them
Almost blinding
Even under the
Fluorescent light.

She wasn't mad,
She told herself
As she tested
The straitjacket
For the tenth,
More like the
Fifth, time.

She would have
Screamed, she
Would have wept,
But she had
Done both and
Was ignored.

Looking up at
The shadowy mirror,
She knew they were
Behind it, watching
Her, trying to justify
That she was mentally

She wasn't and
Behind the mirror
No one stood,
No one was

The only door into
The room swung open,
She twisted around to
See who the visitor
Was and upon seeing
Who it was she

He knew she was
Not crazy. Stooping
Down, he undid the
Fastenings of the
Straitjacket, freeing her,
Embracing her.

Then with one deft move,
He broke her neck
And released her, letting
Her fall like an old
Rag doll.

She was sane,
But they locked
Her away, and
He was insane
And they refused
To see it. And
Now they were all