Poetry ~ Cabbage After Christmas

https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2026/03/04/its-thursdays-six-sentence-story-blog-hop-61/

I don’t know about everyone else, but my heart starts racing as it comes time for the weekly 6SS blog hop!  Our host Denise is 5-Star–I’m speaking truth!  She serves up a fine prompt every Sunday, and my head starts spinning.  So, if you’re wondering what’s going on when I say “Six Sentence Story”, click her link above and get all the info so you can join the crowd of extraordinary writers who pack a world of creativity into 6 sentences each week.  Don’t waste another minute–it’s easy and FUN, come on!

~~♥~~

Lorelei was shocked by Judd’s uncharacteristic demeanor after she’d described signs just within the tall wrought-iron gate (“BEWARE” & “Pandora’s Jar”); he’d spoken harshly, “get in the car, Now”–and sped toward the highway as she asked if he was feeling unwell; in all their years (which included his law enforcement career & related medical leaves), she’d never seen him this way–sparks of fear were flying from his azure eyes, and he was silent until they arrived home.

Pouring a glass of wine, his tone was parental: “I don’t want you going into Birchwick Cliff and poking around”, he said softly–“please, you’ve read the book, you can talk to Richard, that’s it.”

But that wasn’t all of it…to her observation that this was the first time she’d seen him so full of fear, he countered with, “then you’ve forgotten–this is the fear-face I wore for months after you tried to kill yourself, following your divorce”; he raised his palm, indicating a need for space between them as she made startled reply: “that wasn’t because of my divorce, it was the way…Never mind–why are you bringing it up now, making me feel horrible–what can it possibly have to do with Birchwick Cliff??”

He embarked on a quietly emotional ramble: he’d been terrified of losing her then (and remained unclear regarding her suicidal impulse), and was now afraid the town might harbor malicious spirits from its nefarious past which could upset her delicate balance–“check your Bible, Love…there is a spiritual realm of Darkness, and it’s real.”

“But Judd–Richard survived his experiences there, made it his home, became the pastor…surely he must have prayed over and anointed every inch of the village with consecrated oil, against any lingering evil.”

“Forgive me if I’m less interesterd in him–I don’t care about Richard’s choices; I love You with fierce passion in every breath I take, and I won’t risk even a wayward wind ruffling Your wellbeing; I need you to respect the warnings posted at that overly-dramatic-looking gate…and I’m sick of this whole subject, so speak your final word; she folded herself into his embrace, murmured, “alright Judd…alright, my breathing castle”.*

~ Cale

(*“I love you–you’re my breathing castle.  Gentle, so gentle…we’ll live forever.” Richard Brautigan)