Kimberly Paulus
Bio
Stories (13/0)
Two Souls Diverge in a Wood, Underneath a Pear Tree
I walked right past him; YES, it was him, I’m sure. My heart started racing, can’t catch my breath, I could hardly stand, legs weak; why am I shaking so violently? Calm down; you always get like this. I turn to see if he looks back, staring at his beautiful backside, long mid-length charcoal gray coat, faded slim-fit jeans, dark olive suede shoes, wavy black hair with a beautiful shimmer of light dancing through it. He walks with such pristine confidence; oh my, that’s so attractive!
By Kimberly Paulus3 years ago in Fiction
She Floats in Dreams
It was a loud thunderous sound lingering in the air. Startling the birds, Caw, Caw, Caw traveled through woods. The old birch tree branch bellowing over the water had finally met its final resting place. It held a knotted rope for swinging and jumping in, and it was hit by lightning in the spring. Bubbling, churning, and slowly sliding down, down; where the water meets the muddy bottom, the tree lay down its balding head absent of its green glory in the white cold months. It disappeared totally under the thick ice sheet, leaving a shallow spot where the tree branch entered. It should freeze over by morning, but only a thin sheet of gray. Unnoticed really that the branch was ever there or that the pond had a new intruder.
By Kimberly Paulus3 years ago in Fiction
Tick Tock Goes The Clock
Tick Tock, Tick Tock the clock goes, moves as time comes, and flows. To where? No one knows, or do they? Is time real? Or is it just something we humans made up to make sense of our perceptions because of how our minds are wired? I know that we in our human vessels will never really know until our souls are back home, with Source. As a child, I was always interested in time and space, what it is, and why we exist. Such deep questions twisted around in my head cyclone style in a never-ending tropical storm. I could stare up into the sky for hours on end. "What's out there?" rang deep down to my inner soul. I still struggle with daily occurrences in wondering The Big WHY? I often get caught at green lights changing unnoticed, woken by a blaring horn from deep in thought.
By Kimberly Paulus3 years ago in Fiction
Blue & Moo Goo
Blue & Moo Goo Why not, I said to myself. Become a famous writer, how hard could it be. I think I’ll start with writing Picture Books; I like to draw. I can see myself now, sitting in the children’s cove at Barnes & Noble, coffee in one hand, my favorite pen in the other. Little rosy-cheeked prince and princesses waiting in line to get their favorite book signed, well, at least favorite for now. Only one nose picker today, not bad. I had just read to them for storytime, and not one of them fell asleep. They were engaged; it is a good day.
By Kimberly Paulus3 years ago in Families
Take Me Home To Shangri-La
Is This Paradise? It's raining out; this is typical Florida weather in the summer. But our dear Miss Peninsula drinks it up, fast; she is thirsty. Mother Nature gives her a nice cool drink daily; it's greatly appreciated through the eyeglass of her green life stretching from seashore to seashore and from land to sea. For a time, you could set your watch to Mother showing her kindness, but she is not so predictable these days. The streets crowded with a surplus of cars, many out-of-state plates skirting the trunks. Though it doesn't make sense, it's June, and season is long past. But no, these are not tourists; they live here. With so many people working from home, it's easy to live anywhere, why not the sunny south? And this place is paradise, a beautiful southern charm. But it's not the paradise it once was; humanity long forgot that world. If they only knew how it once transcended with such pure beauty, it could take your breath away.
By Kimberly Paulus3 years ago in Fiction
If I could not create, I would not exist.
The Sea Sparked It, The Mountains Own It When I was in my mid 20's, it began. Words started to flow. Around and around, they would swirl in my head, and often when I was alone by the Sea. I didn't understand it then. Maybe it was an awakening. I needed to write some of them down. So I did, and this was my first poetry, and I have been creating it ever since. It comes to me most when I am in touch with nature; I become one with it. It's a fantastic feeling. I feel that my best poetry flows when I'm immersed deep in the rolling hillsides, and she surrounds me. Words first came to me from the Sea but flourished in the mountains. I want to share my favorite poem, written after an incredible hike down a steep and dangerous mountain path. There, at the bottom, I climbed onto a beautiful river boulder, looked up, and put pen to paper the words that flowed in me.
By Kimberly Paulus3 years ago in Humans
Lovely Lily in a Field of Jealousy
When I was in college, my freshman year, we did a thing. It was supposed to be a social thing about who we were and the likelihood of our study habits. We all stood up at our seats. The professor proceeded to ask a series of questions. If you…go stand over on the right side of the room. If you… stand on the right side of the room, and so on. In the end, there was me and two others left standing in our seats, and everyone else was on the right side of the room. What the heck?! Am I that different?! Or was I being honest? Whatever it was, I was devastated. I felt like Charlie Brown.
By Kimberly Paulus3 years ago in Humans
Slumped Face Down Riddled with Bullets
The Last Night The Sun had just set, the colors were vibrant, and the sky was crisp and clean. It was a perfect night for a motorcycle ride through the countryside to meet his partner. The full moon was rising in a clear blue sky, shining bright across the horizon. Spirits were high as business was flourishing. His business dealings in the nightclub scene working with a prominent establishment and his venture in the furniture business seemed promising. He was a big shot in the ----------- in------- City, at least that is what he told me, and the girls LOVED him. Judging by all the posted selfies with numerous girls, that seemed to be true. But that all ended with one special girl, sweet -------, he was in love. It was a whirlwind romance, but he proposed within a few months, and she excepted. Life was good indeed. Christmas, his favorite holiday, was right around the corner. He was riding his motorcycle through the night air, fresh cool breeze blowing in his hair, and thoughts of the fantastic vacation he just had with his new love and images of their first Christmas together were racing in his mind. So this is how I imagined his experience was that night he was supposed to meet his partner at the factory in -------- ------, his head high in the clouds, dreaming of a beautiful life, and then all of a sudden, there was a loud noise-BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG! Down he went, shot in the back, hitting his head and body six times. Slumped on the ground face down with his leg twisted up under the bike tire, Billy lies there dead. It was near a watermelon plantation on a service road. Witnesses saw two unidentified shooters onboard a black Honda TMX motorcycle who shot him from behind. It was December 16th, 2010, and there he was, left to die. There was no real investigation. The articles I found said there was, but nothing came of it. He was dead, that was that. His name was William ------, he was only 47 years old, and he was my uncle.
By Kimberly Paulus3 years ago in Criminal
The Drive, The Tribe, The Cool-Blue Ride
The Drive We were cruising over the Causeway top-down and jamming to the music of ACDC "Back in Black," the notes enthusiastically riding the airwaves and trailing along. My husband sometimes blares the genre "hard rock" on our road crossings; it brings us back to high school, when we were once young, free-spirited, and still had a lot of hair. Traveling then in this beautifully vented road carriage, what's left of our hair was flying uncontrollably, whipping in all directions. And the same for the young ones in the back, still with loads of locks (our daughter Sophia at the time 8, Brandon the Yorkie 3, and Grouper the Goldendoodle 2. Sometimes it can get highly gusty with a wicked cross breeze flowing from the Gulf of Mexico on one side of the Causeway to the Intra Coastal Waterway leading to the Pine Island Sound or the Caloosahatchee River on the other. We were heading into town, which for us was Fort Myers, Florida. A little over five years ago, we moved to the beautiful Island of Sanibel. The Causeway gets us "to and fro," the intimate island of the natural wild preserve. One of our many reasons to move there besides the incredible beauty of this place was the school. It was and is rated number one in Lee County for Elementary-Middle School. Our daughter was about to start Kindergarten, so it was an easy choice. Our fur babies came a short time after we settled in. Grouper the Goldendoodle came; first, he arrived into our lives a little over four years ago. It was a blessing.
By Kimberly Paulus3 years ago in Families