Cindy Calder
Bio
From Charleston SC - "I am still learning." Michelangelo
Stories (242/0)
A Rose By Any Other Name
Should I continue to wait for my blind date? Or should I bolt out of Garibaldi’s as fast as possible? I looked at my watch. It was eight thirty. It did not seem that my blind date, Atticus, would be joining me. Above me, the hum of the ceiling fan droned on repeatedly as I contemplated my choices. Impulsively, I made the decision to stay and enjoy dinner alone, especially since I'd already ordered a bottle of wine. I could use a glass of it for a variety of reasons, so this was an easy fix. The hell with Atticus.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
Magic Window
Sophie loved to explore whenever she had a day off from school, and today she was making her way through the sparse forest, eager to find places she had yet to discover. Her best friend, Abby, had ditched her in favor of going shopping with her Mom today, but Sophie preferred trekking through the woods any day to picking out a new outfit in a crowded mall. She was most at home while romping through tangled brush in a forest or while doing anything outside.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
The Personification of Merlot
Zelda had revisited The Prose & Wine many times – eleven times to be exact – over the last four months. The motivation each time she visited was solely the opportunity to hear him read just one more time. She could not remember ever hearing lovelier recitations of any piece of classical work. She was confident that his voice, laced with a lilting, beautiful English accent, was derived from ancient times and a gift purely from the Gods. She did not know his real name, because everyone who came to hear the recitations knew him only as The Eloquent Englishman.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
El Amor
Mariposa sat at the small table in a café in Tarragona, Spain, patiently awaiting her date and hoping he would arrive soon. Tarragona, though somewhat small, was a busy city due to the bullfights, and it was possible that Santiago had been delayed by unforeseen events since he worked at the Tarraco Arena where the bullring was located. Mariposa reassured herself he would arrive shortly. He had promised her that tonight would be a very special evening. The two had known each other for a year, but they had never been on an actual date until this evening.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
Rising From the Ashes
Death knows no obstacle, no boundary, as love rises from the ashes like a phoenix and soars to distant horizons. Each afternoon, Tessa walked the cliffs of Cornwall, looking out upon the vast ocean as she anxiously awaited the return of her sea captain, Seton. The nearby Trevose Head Lighthouse stood at the ready, able to provide guidance for any incoming ship out on the seas. It had been more than a year since she had seen Seton's ship, The Sappho, draw near, but she held onto hope as she waited, hoping to see a blinking ship's lantern from the flower-encrusted cliffs overlooking the ocean's waves.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
Heikel
I don’t really know why I gravitated to the old, dilapidated trunk that afternoon while wandering amidst the many vendors’ galleries at the antique store, but I did. It was as though I was compelled, drawn to it for reasons unbeknownst to me. I remember running my fingers over it, feeling the raised ridges of peeling paint as I gingerly lifting the faded, damaged lid. From what I could see at the time, it held an assortment of old clothing, costume jewelry, books, and other such personal items. It was an intriguing find of unknown treasures, and I was sure there would be something within that would prove to worth at least the asking price of $28.00, so, unable to do otherwise, I had quickly rummaged through my purse for the money. I didn’t really have the extra money to spend on frivolous things, but instinct told me my purchase would not be in vain. It as though the old box had called my name, urging me to claim its fortune as my own.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
The Owl
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. With their evening arrival, the owl came, too. Together, they filled the endlessness that floated in on the breeze and rippled through the tall trees. Tonight, on the eve of the summer solstice, it was no different; the owl was perched on the same branch, beckoning Luna from the solitude of her bed with his eerie cry.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
- Top Story - May 2023
Heather on the MoorsTop Story - May 2023
Her name was Heather, like the heather that was scattered endlessly across the beautiful moors. The moors of Dartmoor called to Heather, both in her waking hours and in her dreams. They beckoned as she slept in the comfortable bed that had once belonged to her parents, and each morning as she awoke, the smell of heather along with a fine mist seemed to permeate the room. She knew well enough, however, that these things were merely the remnants of her dreams that lingered so.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
The Death of Appearances
Warning: this story contains themes or references to suicide or self-harm. “We have plenty of time,” Zelda said, reaching across the space betwixt herself and her fiancé. She lovingly caressed his forearm in an attempt to assure that his despondency was due to nothing more than the gloomy weather that filled the streets of Paris that rainy day.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Fiction
Storyteller
I have always been drawn to music. Even at seven years of age, my heart and feet beat joyously to the sound of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite or a Polonaise by Chopin. I am now much older, and over the years, my musical world has evolved to include the Beatles, Cat Stevens, Bruce Springsteen, Jimmy Buffett, Dan Fogelberg, Nirvana, NSYNC, Disturbed, K-Pop Bands, a large assortment of Italian and Spanish vocalists, and many, many others. Gravitating to a diverse array of music has consistently been an avenue I’ve chosen, through good and bad times, and, if for no other reason other than the sheer wonder of music that never fails to resonate deep within, always bringing solace and joy.
By Cindy Calderabout a year ago in Beat