Heading for Number One!

On the way! This New Year, support the arts and help me get to number one! On the way! Thank you for loving my photos and books. It means a lot.
Love to you, C.A. MacConnell

NOVELS:  Four published books by C.A. MacConnell on Amazon NOW! I guarantee you'll never forget the ride! Creative, fast-paced, unique, and gripping. Full of heart, real. I independently handle everything -- the creation, writing, editing, and interior/exterior design. Need writing help? M.A. English/Creative Writing, Hollins University. Over 30 years of experience in all genres. You name it; I can do it. <3, C.A.

PHOTOS: custom, signed prints. Or, prints on metal or canvas, ready to hang. Msg FB:  C.A. MacConnell or Email:  right here.

From the Deer

Hi! I've been seeing a lot of deer and so, I decided to post this today. I actually turned this into a song as well...which is rad. It's a powerful song, I think. Actually, it's my favorite one to sing and play, because it really emits love, and it makes me feel alive. <3 Enjoy the poem, from the point of view of the deer, a fun exercise in voice. Love to you, C.A. MacConnell.

From the Deer

Oh, Hello. I see you. Skinny with not much hair at all. I am sorry
you only have two legs, but it is OK with me.
I do not have anywhere to go.
Some moons back, I had more hiding places. Now, everything
is confusing.
When you blink, I am ready to run away, but your teeth
are not too sharp.
For now, I will stay with baby, keeping track, looking sideways
nine times better than you, but nothing like
owls.
And this green is good in my mouth;
it goes down smooth.
But no wet falling. The sun
is mad all the time, I guess. I have a lot on my mind,
and the dry confuses me and my throat. Everything
is yellow and hot, which hurts my nose,
for one.

Colder soon.
The squirrels search for sticks. I am laughing
at them, and my tail is going wild. Then I get too hungry
and swallow a stone
and some funny flowers
which hurt my insides.

Maybe I will take baby to where they leave
corn. But that is too close to the animals like you.
They smell funny and walk around, holding snakes
that spit water at the ground. Green and black.
Some yell scary like coyotes.
Some coo coo like doves.
Others are quiet like butterflies.
It makes no sense why they hold water snakes,
because we all know the wet comes from
above. That is normal.

Oh, Hello. I still see
you. These little trees are sleeping all the time,
but every now and then they whisper
they are happy we are here.
Trees are nice.
Between the old, tall ones,
two of the boys fight each other for fun.
All the girls
laugh really hard enough to shake the ears,
except me,
because my hair is already starting to fall out,
which is early and makes me embarrassed and so,
I am quiet.

Our leader
is not far away. I know because he paws pebbles.
I hear his heavy handsome.
Because of his head, I am nervous
he could kill someone, but he never does.
He tells funny stories at night. Leaders do that – talk
until we are sleepy. They make us laugh and shut
our eyes. Then they jump up and act like they are going to kill
someone, even if they never do.
Sometimes they do
but then, the whole forest swallows them up, for one.

I still
see you, but I am staying here. I am so nervous to cross
the gray and yellow ground
that hurts my feet,
where the animals screech and move real fast, all
different shapes and sizes,
but so loud and stinky
with smoke and strange growling,
and they have eyes brighter than the sun,
and it makes all of us stare back,
and when we do, we forget to move,
and those bad ones hit us hard
and there is no turning back into life.
We all know not to look into the light but some days,
it takes one or two
by surprise,
which means the breath is gone.
I don’t know where their sounds go,
but they’re not here -- all stiff and can’t remember how to talk.

Then the birds circle down.
They have ripped wings and red faces,
and I am sad for them,
because they all want to be prettier.
There is nothing I can do about that.

I have a lot on my mind.
I cannot talk to you much more.
And I am thirsty, and I need to ask the turtles.
When I head for a drink,
I have to watch out. Sometimes, sharp sticks come flying
and other days, animals that walk around like you
wear green and brown,
but I can still see them,
nine times better,
and they have black, shiny things that bang, bang
like thunder and smell like fire and then,
you or somebody else is already
gone.

It is amazing to live today
with all of the bang like thunder,
the dry,
the yellow,
the sharp sticks,
and the lights,
and the screeching and strange growling,
and the fire and getting swallowed,
and all of the scary things.

It is OK with me that you only have two legs.
Skinny with not much hair at all,
but there must be a reason.
I guess I have never seen a shark, but the catfish
in the river told me all about them.
And so I believe in you, too.
Hello, I still
see you. Now I look to tell you that the trees
and I are happy you are here.
I have a lot on my mind, but I guess now
you are part of this hiding place.
I hear your heavy handsome.

I see opossum.
He knows everybody, and he tells me the time.
The moon will be here in a moment.
So, I only have a few minutes with you.
I still
see you.
My eyes are nine times better, but nothing
like owls.
Maybe you forgot.
I do not have anywhere to go.
I am worried about my job which is loving everybody.

Trees are nice.

-- C.A. MacConnell

P.S. NOVELS:  Four published books by C.A. MacConnell on Amazon NOW! I guarantee you'll never forget the ride! On the way to number ONE! Help me get there! Creative, fast-paced, unique, and gripping. Full of heart, real. I independently handle everything -- the creation, writing, editing, and interior/exterior design. Need writing help? M.A. English/Creative Writing, Hollins University. Over 30 years of experience in all genres. You name it; I can do it. <3, C.A.

P.P.S. PHOTOS: custom, signed prints. Or, prints on metal or canvas, ready to hang. Msg FB:  C.A. MacConnell or Email:  right here.

We All Have a Voice

 

Photo of the Day:  We All Have a Voice, by C.A. MacConnell

Hope you have a good day. Winter storm's coming in my neck of the woods and so, a few days of rest for me. But I'm sure I'll venture out for a snow walk! Love to you, C.A. MacConnell

NOVELS:  Four published books by C.A. MacConnell on Amazon NOW! I guarantee you'll never forget the ride! On the way to number ONE! Help me get there! Creative, fast-paced, unique, and gripping. Full of heart, real. I independently handle everything -- the creation, writing, editing, and interior/exterior design. Need writing help? M.A. English/Creative Writing, Hollins University. Over 30 years of experience in all genres. You name it; I can do it. <3, C.A.

PHOTOS: custom, signed prints. Or, prints on metal or canvas, ready to hang. Msg FB:  C.A. MacConnell or Email:  right here.

Shell

I just wrote this. Some flash poetry. Have a good night. C.A. <3

Shell

I believe that it all began with the wind. Secretly,
for years, I felt the lift, whether harsh or gentle,
and I wrote to an audience of one hidden inside
hundreds. Wrapped tight, I knew the turtle’s shell.

Today, my words linger somewhere between
the breeze, the thunder, the ice, and the sun,
but the winter storm is coming, and the work
is done. Two days off, and I have no son.

I peer out, stretching my neck, staring at the strange
sky, searching for a cloud-shaped megaphone.

You see, all of this. Photographs, books, short
stories, essays, poems. Morning God thoughts.
Trips, sightings, shows, moments, flashes
of hope and later, silence. You see, all of this.

This is all. From my art, I have learned nothing.
Tonight, I believe it begins with the wind,
and I will sing to an audience of one hidden
inside hundreds. Wrapped tight, I know

the turtle’s shell.

C.A. MacConnell

The Computer Lady

Good morning. I mess around with the traditional POV patterns in this one, and I definitely break rules, but I like the result. It gets interesting...fun little story with a great twist. Hope you like it. A fiction sample for you... Check out my books on Amazon. Saw some good music last night. It was nice to get out for a bit! Snow's coming! Have a good day. Love to you, C.A.

The Computer Lady

Grunting, The Computer Lady always arrived at Bumble Bee Cafe after lunchtime; she appeared around two in the afternoon. She was nearly forty-five years old, and her too-long, frosted bangs blended into her shoulder length, patchy-frosted hair. Sometimes she resembled a scarecrow. Short with small breasts, she wore a little extra roll around her middle, because every now and then, she enjoyed a Bumble Bee pastry. Sometimes she wore lightly tinted, Janis Joplin style glasses. Other days, she showed her face. But one thing never varied -- every day, after slowly eating her lunch (tuna salad on wheat, cup of soup), she sat and stared at her computer for hours. She drank water. From time to time, she asked the server, Jim, for more water. Mostly, she demanded it. Water, more water.

Several times, Jim had thought that she might need a hose attached to her lips.

Computer Lady raised the glass and shook the ice. No words at first. But when no one immediately responded, she changed her ways, and she began to scream. "Where is my water?"

Jim tried to keep the glass full to avoid the inevitable scene, but he'd been busy with the end of a lunch rush, so he'd been a little distracted. "I'll be right with you," he answered. Quickly, he found a full pitcher and refilled her glass.

An hour or so later, Jim thought she was gone, so he cleared her table, taking her water glass with the plate, the fork, the knife, the soup spoon, and the always-wet napkin. But that was the wrong move, he found out. Way wrong.

Suddenly, Computer Lady returned from nowhere and yelled, "Where the hell is my water?" She yelled it loud enough for every customer to hear.

Heads turned.

"I'll get you another one. So sorry," Jim said quietly, hoping his tone would soothe her. "I thought you were gone."

She muttered, "Hmmphhh," shaking her head with disgust. "You always assume I'm gone. It's not right."

Jim grinned and hurried to get her another water. With lemon.

She went back to her computer.

When it was time to close, Jim took the check to her. Seemed like the thing to do. He'd been doing the same thing for years.

She looked up and yelled, "Do I have to pay this NOW?"

"Well, we are closing," he whispered. "We always close at six. You know that."

"Hmmmphh," she said, handing him her credit card.

After Jim rang the card, he took the slip over to her. Again, it seemed like the natural course of events.

When she saw the slip, she scowled at Jim and asked, "Do I have to sign this NOW?"

"Uh, that'd be great," he muttered, trying to hold back a chuckle. She wasn't just simply rude. She was beyond rude. He'd seen it before, but it usually wasn't that bad.

After Jim finished rolling his silverware at the Bumble Bee, he had some time to kill before he met up with his friends, so he headed to Lucky Dog Coffee for a shot. Then he glanced to his right, and there she was again. The Computer Lady. As always, she was sitting by herself, staring at her computer, drinking water.

Jim called out to her, "Hi there, I just saw you. I work at the Bumble Bee...you know, where you just were. You writing a novel on there?"

"No," she barked.

"Oh, okay," he said, introducing himself. "My name's 'Jim' by the way. I've never told you all these years."

She muttered, "Laura" and went back to her computer.

He knew her full name. He'd seen the credit card slips for years, but it was nice to hear her say it. Then he asked, "Why do you come into the Bumble Bee every day?"

"Oh, I banned that place for a while because of bad service, but now I go back because I like the soup," she answered, still staring at her computer.

He nodded, rose, went to the bar, and ordered his espresso shot from her, the Barista. No, not one, a double shot. On the way back to his table, he walked near The Computer Lady, sliding right by her, wanting to look at her screen, wanting to know what she was searching for, wanting to ask more questions, but she was still buried in the computer. So he gave up.

He thought about how she came in every day at the same time, how she ordered the same thing. She always stayed for hours, and she rarely looked up from her computer. What was strange was that she rarely typed anything either. He couldn't figure out what she was doing, and he'd never had a chance to sneak up behind her to look at the screen. Well, he'd had the chance, when the tables were slow, but he'd never had the guts. Sometimes "not knowing" was better. But his next mission was this: he was determined to make her react, to hear some sound come from her other than choppy words and angry grunts. Perhaps she was a closet genius, and she was creating something brilliant on that computer, right there, right in the Bumble Bee Cafe. Could be anything. Maybe she was a nurse. Yeah, she worked the early shift, and she came into the restaurant after. Yes, she saved lives. Maybe she was creating the cure for Cancer. Or Diabetes. Or mental illness. Maybe she was memorizing the famous paintings of the world. Looking at photographs? Videos? Her kids? Nah, she definitely wasn't the motherly type. Strangely, he wanted to give her a hug. She looked like she needed one, but he was afraid she might crack. He wanted to do something, anything. He wanted to know what stories lived inside such an angry heart. She might crack.

Jim's phone vibrated. He checked the screen. Text from Jason, the sensitive one who couldn't hold his liquor. Jason wrote, Jim, you better come out with us. You've been a hermit, and I'm already buzzing, and I need help with that girl, you know, I can't talk to her, and I know she'll be there, she is so amazing, holy shit. Jim's phone vibrated again. Text from Kara. Heya, I'll be there now, I changed my mind. I'm getting wasted. Lisa broke up with me. Again. I need you. Five more texts. Five emails. Then he got hooked on some YouTube. Even after his espresso shot was long gone, down the hatch, Jim sat next to Computer Lady, staring at his phone. He was there for hours and hours and by then, it was getting a little late to go out. Might as well just chill and go home. Jason would make it happen with the girl. And Kara had serious muscle. They'd be all right. He thought about sending a group text that said this: I'm here. Who is going to help me? Then he looked up and saw her, the Lucky Dog Barista.

Curiously, the Barista was staring back. She thought he was attractive for an older man. She was only twenty, and he appeared to be at least twenty-five. The way the Phone Man was dressed, maybe he was an artist, yeah, a painter, or a musician. No ring on. He always came in at the same time every day, around 6:30pm. And he always sat next to the woman who was buried in her computer; the Barista assumed she was his mother. How sweet, he's hanging out with his mom on a Friday. Not a great resemblance, but it was there -- their quiet ways, and the expressions -- utterly unreadable. She'd been a Lucky Dog Barista for a long time, and she could usually read a face, but when it came to the Phone Man and his mother, the Barista remained stumped. Phone Man always ordered one shot, like a poet. But that day it was two. Strange, very strange. Perhaps he'd be interested in a free shot. She could deliver it to him. She was sexy, playing with a straw, making eyes at him. She wasn't trying to be sexy. She just was. Often times, on her days off, when she dressed for the occasion, she made men and women drool. She thought about making him something free. But she couldn't tell...maybe he wanted to be in his own space. Like his mom. He was impossible to decipher. Every day, she tried to make him smile. Maybe if she could make him smile, she could make the mother smile too. So far, nothing. Always, he simply stared at his phone. What was strange was that she saw the phone flash and vibrate, but she never saw him text anyone back. He just looked at his phone and sipped his espresso. Maybe he was an undercover cop or a Dad. Nah, he didn't seem like the fatherly type. Maybe he was an actor, yes. He looked like one. So handsome, in a weird way. Some days she wanted to hold his hand. But he might shatter. Other days, she wanted to grab his shoulders and shake the pretty face right out of him, to know his real heart. It was maddening.

The Barista cleaned the espresso machine, and she made as much noise as possible.

Jim went back to his phone.

The Computer Lady held up her glass, shaking the ice. Then she yelled, "Hey, can I have some more water?"

"Right away," the Barista said to Computer Lady. She said it ever so softly, trying to keep the scene calm.

That voice, Jim thought. He too knew what it was like to keep a customer from breaking, really breaking. He wondered about her, the real person attached to the voice. Jim turned off his phone and looked sideways at the Barista.

The Computer Lady yelled, "Water!"

The Barista swooped in, handing a tall, dripping glass over to The Computer Lady. She rolled her eyes, and then she looked at Jim, smiling wide. "You always come in here at the same time, every day."

Jim's eyes widened.

In a huff, for no reason, the Computer Lady rose and said, "I'm never coming back here." And she left.

The Barista shook her head. "What's wrong with that lady? I thought maybe she was your mom."

Jim glanced down. "She is. She just has no idea. She gave me up, you know, way back when."

The Barista sat down at Jim's table. She sniffled a little. "Oh my god. That's why you come in here every day."

Jim looked back up. "At first, yes. And then I realized...well...now I come in here for you."

-- C.A. MacConnell

Two Dogs.

 

Photo of the Day:  Two Dogs, C.A. MacConnell C. 2025. I love this one because it perfectly captures the emotional expression and curiosity of these animals. Sure, it's a simple moment in time, but it expresses clear emotion. Those are my favorite kinds of shots. Simple, emotive.

I see a lot of different dogs/cats throughout my day. So far, I've made a lot of new friends, and I haven't had any trouble, like delivery people have from time to time. There were two -- a Rottweiler and a dinosaur-sized St. Bernard (Cujo, yes) -- that deserved some serious space and respect! Rotties are extremely protective of their territory, and anyone who tries to befriend them on someone else's property is an idiot. When I worked at a certain barn many years back, the barn manager had two Rotties, and they were amazing. At the barn, they were kind and loyal to me. I do like those dogs quite a bit, and they're top notch with their families, but I'd never, ever approach one on unfamiliar ground. 

But the rest -- Dobermans, Shepherds, Pit Bulls, Chihuahuas, and the like -- have proved to be respectful to me. One particular German Shepherd jumped in my car and sat in the passenger seat, waiting for me to get in so that we could take a ride. Anyway, I'm extremely observant, and I give off a vibe and so, I've been lucky so far, but I'm still cautious, because I realize that I could be a threat to any dog's home territory.

Interestingly enough, the dog I've avoided the most is one particular tiny, mixed breed dog...she's rather cute, but I can tell that she wants to tear into me. And the owner advised me as such. Ha.

Looks can be deceiving! This morning, I'm reminded not to compare my insides to others' outsides.

Good morning. Have a great day. Today is all we have! <3

Love to you,
C.A. MacConnell

NOVELS:  Four published books by C.A. MacConnell on Amazon NOW! I guarantee you'll never forget the ride! On the way to number ONE! Help me get there! Creative, fast-paced, unique, and gripping. Full of heart, real. I independently handle everything -- the creation, writing, editing, and interior/exterior design. Need writing help? M.A. English/Creative Writing, Hollins University. Over 30 years of experience in all genres. You name it; I can do it. <3, C.A.

PHOTOS: custom, signed prints. Or, prints on metal or canvas, ready to hang. Msg FB:  C.A. MacConnell or Email:  right here.

Lefty

Back when I rode horses, I owned three different ones over the years, but I often rode a bunch of other horses to practice every day, and one of my favorites was a bay gelding named Lefty. He was a gentle, sweet Thoroughbred, and he was consistent and rather fun to ride; he was also a talented jumper with perfect form. So, you’d think that everyone would want to ride him. Not so. Why? Well…

You see, Lefty had one major flaw. Whether tracking to the right or the left in a ring, he only cantered on the left lead. Normally, when cantering, tracking to the right, a horse leads with the right front leg. But Lefty couldn’t. He never did and never would. Never. No one could ever get him to do it. In any direction, he always lead with the left leg (probably due to an old racetrack injury, because he was bought off of the track). Anyway, obviously that’s where his name came from. So, no one ever wanted to ride him, because at any horse show, this would be an automatic no-no. And there was no way Lefty would ever be in the ribbons.

But I loved him. I rode him all of the time, and I even took him to a show. Time after time, we’d have perfect rounds but of course, I never got any ribbons on him because of his left-sided issue. In a way, it was kind of fun, because I knew from the get-go that I’d never win anything, no matter how good our jumping course was and so, there was absolutely no pressure; it was pure fun…just Lefty and me.

I continued to ride and love the guy for a few years, off and on, whenever he needed some exercise. I always jumped at the chance. Well, I didn’t have to jump, because no one else wanted to ride him, ha.

Well, this afternoon, I was about to take a nap, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Lefty. Resting there on the couch, I grinned and pictured his handsome face. I even remembered the exact shape of his eyes. Maybe he had an imperfection, but he was very good looking, kind, gentle, sensitive, shy, extremely sweet, fun to ride, and as loving as they came.

Lefty was perfectly imperfect. Like me. Like you.

All of us are.

So love yourself. Love others. That’s why we’re here.

C.A. MacConnell

P.S. Happy New Year. Love to you.