SLPT5

“It’s not my problem,” Jeanette whispered into the air as she rolled over to face the wall as the light streaming in through the window was bothering her eyes. But then the phone began to beep its irritating signal to notify her that Richard had left the receiver off the hook. “It’ll stop eventually,” she tried to reason as she swung herself upright with a groan. “Figures.”

SLPT4

What the heck? What could it be now? Jeanette kept still, debating with herself whether to get involved. Footsteps clumped down the stairs accompanied by indistinguishable muttering. The entry door slammed shut followed soon after by another door slamming. She couldn’t tell if it was the outside door or the door to the kitchen. She’d probably better go downstairs to check and make sure everyone was alright. No telling what Richard might do when his temper flared. 

SLPT3

Not bothering to reply, she cracked the door open enough to slide the old rotary through, then gently slid it closed again and refastened the lock. She crawled up onto her bed and buried her face in the pillow. The Air Force was her best option. How could she even think of turning them down? There was no money left for school. There was no job for earning more money. All she had was a prison cell of a bedroom in her step-father’s house. Even her mother had abandoned her, for him.

SLPT2

So that was it. She had to stay now. She had burned her bridge to salvation by not so politely requesting the recruiter never call her back again, ever. She tried to wipe her tears away with her already drenched shirt sleeve. Why couldn’t she just go? There was nothing left for her here, no one needed her, and no one even wanted her around. All she had to do was pack a bag and walk away, just walk away and not look back. Just walk away, but she couldn’t. Something was holding her back. Something she couldn’t identify, something she couldn’t explain. 

SLPT1

She replaced the receiver handle back into the awaiting cradle. The recruiter had called again. She didn’t know what to say. Her commitments were always fulfilled. She couldn’t tolerate the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, knowing she had disappointed him. But what else could she do? All the excuses she’d given him over the past several weeks didn’t faze him or weaken his resolve, and the incessant calling had to stop. She’d made up her mind to go, but then she changed it, and that was it. A woman is still allowed to change her mind, isn’t she? She tried to reason with herself, the pangs of guilt still washing over her.

My Lungs are Clay

My lungs are clay

My heart is lead

My jaw is tight

My eyes are dead

My memories

Are stinging bees

My future plans

Are fallen trees

The pain within

My gut profound

The chest contains

My hollow sound

My life is death

My sorrow great

My prison is

My only fate

Reality

The human brain can’t tell the difference between that which is real and that which is vividly imagined. Therefore, when we continually run a sequence of events through our thoughts, we’re choosing to re-create the same realities over and over again. The internal world is more important than the external world because it’s where we spend most of our time and because it’s what makes us who we are. So, if you don’t like the person you've become or the circumstances in which you find yourself, the only way to change them is through changing the thought processes of your brain.