Depression

 Alligator in swamp, by Linda MacPhee-Cobb.jpg

You wake to find yourself floating face down in a pool of dark water, surrounded by hungry alligators.

Alligators, feeding off your water logged body for years, slowly chomping you to bits. As you begin to blink your eyes wearily, your semi-conscious mind jolts into a spastic birth of panic. The frozen block of fear begins to crack, chip and slide off from your soul.

Quietly…gently, a motion is willed thru your splayed fingers gliding you to safety.

The shore draws nearer. From out the corner of your eye a shadow streams by your floating torso.  A desperate hungry alligator charges at your legs, clamping its mighty jaw unto the cuff of your jeans. Its jaw locked on tight, the alligator violently jerks its massive head, and oversized reptilian form to and fro aggressively driving you back down into the murky waters.

You're swimming for your life, summoning energy from the bowels of your soul; eyes on the shore.

A voice screams from inside your head:

"Don't look back, don't look the alligator in the eyes, it feeds on your fear and attention!

It’s time to starve out the life ravaging beast! Swim!...Swim!…Swim!

The King of Everything

The King of Everything trots his way thru the neighborhood, stopping at random to smell the corners of alcoves, bushes and patches of grass; chest puff up high.

The King of Everything eyes the passing strangers, a low growl rumbling in his chest; each passerby a potential invasion to his personal space.

The King of Everything flexes on his haunches, ready to pounce the passing peasants, tethered to leashes made of various materials; lead by the neck, as slaves are so often cruelly lead.

The King of Everything observes the bright green ball resting, in the center of the tennis court.The King of Everything burst at lighting speed, eager to capture his felt prey.

The King of Everything has lain the law, all is in its place, all is well in the kingdom.

Red Winter Coat (Kelly)

It's warm out this morning, the dew point is climbing up; a light rain will come down at any moment.

Your lights on, I assume you hadn't step outside to walk your dog yet; it's so early.

I walked my dogs, on our usual morning route. My head looking up at the fading moon, mentally confirming positive hopes for my day. The eerie howl of the coyote startled me, afraid to go any further in the dark, I could almost see him, sitting in the middle of the lush green grass of hole number 9. Time to head back home.

Startled again, I had not, expected to see you, your red coat and your sad brown Shepard. Pausing at the street corner to look at me, looking at you. Swelled with the comfort of your presence, I whispered, under-breath "Good morning, I love you".