CarmenJimersonCross-Safieddine
Bio
A widow, sharing experiences. SHARING LIFE LIVED, things seen, lessons learned & spreading peace where I can.
Call me "Gina" ( pronounced "jeena" ) short for REGINA
more at my original page https://vocal.media/authors/carmen-jimerson-cross
Stories (45/0)
CATEGORICALLY HOMELESS
THE TONE OF THE WORD "HOMELESS" and any implication that one may become so wrangles at the insides to a point of cringing fear and dread. It imlies extreme loss of possessions and the security of a roof overhead. It references a new beginning in life as a drifter.
By CarmenJimersonCross-Safieddine9 months ago in Confessions
STILL AMONG US
THE CALL CAME IN SAYING SHE HAS TAKEN A TURN FOR THE WORSE ...but there was never an order for a funeral herse ...there was never viewing, nor repass nor clinical summary designating "cause of death", inherent illness or sudden occurence.
By CarmenJimersonCross-Safieddine10 months ago in Poets
I GO BACK
IT WAS SUGGESTIVE as any banana dance tossed out over the airwaves and fiber cables to smite emboldened egos wrapped around Juneteenth.. a holiday meant to celebrate freedoms gained. That bunch of bananas tied quickly and fashioned into a revealing skirt less a crotch piece and nothing what could cover glazed buttocks made to jounce at the mind's eye but professionally as the dancer sought to humorize bare breasts glued with sequins and fiber... face painted to entice the eye to follow what it would for the minutes frozen in time by memory and film for the future to behold. It was a job. It was a job held and thrust into the mind of those not present upon that day, yet open to the ire of mystery brought to the forefront along with the scriptures read and hammered ... hammered and read until a mental note and verbatim could bring back the reasons of WHY NOT to do such as the featured act set before you. The dancer bared it all and bent butt up to ensure her full emphasis and reap the desired effect guaranteed to have them begging to get one more look at such as that onstage. It was pitched during the sacred days when women and religion were to be something honorable that could collect respect for discretion. Decorum on a job, for a job well done and worth a pittance of pay. Even for one "up in age." The dancer revealing her private parts must need be retired and raising children who could take pride in a discreet manner... for that day and time.
By CarmenJimersonCross-Safieddine10 months ago in Humans
FINDING FORTUNE
RIMS OF WATER RAISED TO THE TREAD HEIGHT AND STOOD for what seemed like minutes after his bike left the spot. It was top of the line, this new PHOENIX by Yamaha. All the rage among kids his age... and now, he had one. It spun off the lot where he paid the last of his first earned paycheck, cantered down the two lane roadway and out onto the north road toward their hangout. This was going to set them on their bare asses. So many fast scenes had raced through his mind up until now, that he could not settle on which scenario he'd play first. Instead, he revved the motor, popped his front wheel up and spun the back tire in a display for anyone who had not seen his pride as he left the lot. The tire caught the pavement and all atop it causing him to spin out on the electric green bike. It spun high after one quick flip upside down slide putting the highlight of a chartreuse yellow trail overhead... the divider line of the pavement... his last clear vision. When he awakened vision restored light of a different sort. Bright glaring white and trails of blue, blinking red and blurred sounds of voices near enough to reference him with unsure instructions to "move"... "roll" and "say."
By CarmenJimersonCross-Safieddine11 months ago in Fiction
The Letters Kept Coming
THE LETTERS WERE AS FREQUENT AS HIS RE-ENTRY to the apartment shared with his lady. Arapet could not fathom the intent behind the seeming urgency of letters originating from Washington, D.C. Shaylene had never mentioned relatives or an old flame there, no prior college and was not a high school graduate of any school in the state. As he reached into the metal box once more, he pulled out a certified envelope. It read Federal Bureau of Investigation. It, too, was addressed to his "Mrs."... a role played by Shaylene for the past two years. The address was his... the mail forwarded, obviously in error. He opened the letter to see that Mrs. Cental was hired. An orientation and final walk through of her duties and their expectations were scheduled as dictated in the letter Arapet held in his hand. For two years Shaylene had been uneployed, playing in and out of local hotels, trying to snag credentials of any loose bystander or room registrant. This could be her biggest opportunity and he would support her following through on the offer.
By CarmenJimersonCross-Safieddine11 months ago in Confessions
PUMPKIN SEEDS
OH THE GLORY of a pumpkin! The trending star of Halloween, giant fall blossom that feeds us well past the new year's advent in the stead of so many available alternate vegetables. But what of the seed? That stripped from the inner organ of the world of flora that reintroduces a new generation. I've recently discovered there to be a shortage of the salted variety. The shortage, probably due to the recalled realiztion the the excessive salt generally applied prior to packaging for market brings the actual value of an ingested pumpkin seed to a low.
By CarmenJimersonCross-Safieddine12 months ago in Longevity
THE ADVENT OF PAUL HILL
(continued from DRAGONS of PAUL HILL by popular request) The student population, those at the ripe age for “inquisitive exploration” during the prime hours of early morn or day could bring new life into the folds of the red ore caverns what housed that new life from the old. One such exploration on an early morning "hookie" venture brought what was now on display at a local museum... a mummified dinosaur with wings. Somewhat of a pterodactyl-looking creature… or so it was thought. A pterodactyl with scales. It was mentioned by media as a duplicate of that found at the Saints & Sinners Sandstone Quarry; was found in a wetted cave somewhere behind the waterfalled entry underneath the town of Wenonah. Wenonah was far north of the Hill area. Far north but secure until now for the spaces being opened beneath the population of homes above the antiquated mines. The mines and caverns connected by only a few breakthrough digs were randomly explored by adventurists; never by miners working for their day's wages. It was that venture which would prove the skreel and murmurs underground not to be imaginary trysts in the lives of those dwelling in Paul Hill and further. It was the breakthrough of walls joining mine and the unexplored cave which would give definition to the mascot chosen by the high school class of years ago. The Dragons were no joke. It was a truth to be found out. It was the arrival and the finding of that arrival in the space around Paul Hill that was about to bring the evil back home. The days of the ore furnaces and the cruelty which made them fruitful by way of the churned bowels of the earth beneath them was here... reborn and awake where it had never been. The Shade Valley parallel to Paul Hill was about to see its own. There had never been dragons in the valley near Paul Hill, until now.
By CarmenJimersonCross-Safieddineabout a year ago in Fiction
PLASM DREAM
THERE WAS NO GUESSING WHAT IT WAS, white and crusted as if days had passed since dropped, spilled or slung onto the bedcovers on and around the appearance of the lifeless tan figure in its midst. One could guess milk or perhaps the ejaculation of some hit and run prank played as just another act of malice. Better and more conscionable imaging would tease at the thought that there had been some austere rescue mission bursting into the room seventeen steps above a locked steel plate door. A more humane consideration would say that even a techno operation had been performed after interjection of some watchful neighbor's emergency call for help brought an unheard siren and rush of expert medical team that splashed preoperative fluids and impassed punctures, steel threads and anesthesia to the unconscious life form found at the end of a rescue call.
By CarmenJimersonCross-Safieddineabout a year ago in Confessions
THE BONE BREAKER
THE COMPUTER CHIP WAS NO LARGER THAN A MICRODOT. Like a tab of purple haze to all the updated highs of the early seventies... like the micro organism found at the lab of the neighborhood nerd... like a speck of dust blown by the winds of El Nino, so was the chip Alan would attempt to place in the iris of his client. His chiropractic office had been open since his graduation from Michigan State University. It was open and at his wim for experimentation in all the open and questionable fields of medicine and biology left unanswered by his university faculty. His own research had left a vacuum in his intellect which seemed to be stuck in high power mode. The tiny office at the rear of his therapy area was no larger than a commercial bathroom, but held a wealth of notes and reference manuals. It was a bank for any sincere vulture of academia. He scannd over Carol's computer files to brief himself on the next client. Kraus was coming in at 1:00 and her neighbor would most likely come along with her. The neighbor... Janet, was an ongoing routine. He was well into the second year of prescribing natural herbal remedies of gentian root, and other herbs for her vertigo. Vertigo that stemmed from systematic lupus- a cancer of the lymph system. She had become light sensitive and giddy since their acquaintance; although her major complaint had been of a "shortened leg" which could not be repaired... it was a birth defect. She complained of a broken shoulder on each visit, but he reassured her that if she ceased carrying her oversized, overloaded purse, her shoulder would feel renewed. He was content to focus upon her lupus using prescription of remedy mentioned by friends who studied other alternative medicines. If he could, he would rid or lessen his friend's problem on his own. Janet lived just upstairs from this newest patient and had referred her, Ms. Kraus to chiropractic correction of her dizziness. Today's client was complaining of a similar ailment... dizziness and stiff neck from whiplash. A car accident and therapy ended before pain disipated brought her to him via his client friend... a client with paying insurance! She brought a CHAMPUS claim form with her, extended to his office girl before being escorted into his back room. She explained that she'd been in an auto accident six months earlier and was struggling to rid herself of an undying "swirling" sensation. She had come in with Janet on an appointment and had asked questions about her own situtation. Chiropractor Brace became overly enthusiastic at the revelation of hallucenations coupled with dizziness after a whiplash while working at her job. Her car was rear ended when another driver came through a redlight running into her car pushing her into the line of traffic ahead of her. There was an attorney working on the accident claim... against Planters-Lifesavers Corporation... the employer of the driver in the wrong. The attorney was working... but he was a bit slow. He was slow and her pain was ongoing. She placed the question, "What can you do for the stiff shoulder/neck, other than more medication?" He had scheduled her appointment immediately and sent her with a referral for an xray of her neck and cranial area. Chelsea Community Hospital - Xray and MRI Departments complied with the order and returned their interpretations to his office. She was returning to hear his results. "It was clearly cervical strain, at the neck... third and fourth cervical discs; but there was a cloud at a more elevated region of her head on the film. A cloud that could not be analyzed without further questioning. He needed more information. "I'd better get a bite to eat," he glanced up from his computer at the clock. He ushered his client out of the two room office and locked the door. He dashed across the street and a few doors west of his own business to the neighborhood cafe' for a bagel with cream cheese and lox. The other clients seemed to remain as focused in their own business as he was on his own; the meal went quickely and his thoughts returned, unchalleneged by outward stimulation. The bagel, cream cheese and lox - a perfect combination. It went down smoothly and gave the effect of fulfillment for his physical needs. A more pressing anxiety, one not so easily secured, was that of proving his organizational declaration that the chip could work.
By CarmenJimersonCross-Safieddineabout a year ago in Fiction