8149

May 2014 #1

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write.

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8149
May 2014 #1

Short Stories
03 Tales of the Firefly Lantern, Part One

by James McCarthy
08 The Dream Walker

by Coleen Whitmore
14 How To Break The Platinum Promise

by Taylor Evans

Short Scenes
11 Bedside Manners erotica
by Emma Long
18 Tell Me The Story Again
by Christine Thomas

20 You Never Know What Tomorrow Will Bring

by Alan Webber
21 My Secret Daughter
by James McCarthy

Poetry
13 Lunch At La Dolce Vita
16 36th St. & Pleasure Point
14 The Minds Mirror
17 The Hawk And The Lizard

by James McCarthy

23 Wandering Aimelessly Through A Misspelled Love

by Stephanie Drey
22 I Called For You To Hear The Train

by Sara Jones-Martin
22 #micropoetry #heartsoup
23 Publishers Note: Believing In Destiny
24 Roll And Write & Red Light Scratch
19 Cover Photo by Evan Trager
May 2014 (second edition), No More Black Tea 1

NOW
ACCEPTING
SUBMISSIONS
FOR
ISSUE 2

contributors

SHORT STORIES
SHORT SCENES
POETRY
#MICROPOETRY
ILLUSTRATIONS
PHOTOGRAPHY

Coleen Whitmore (The Dream Walker, P. 8) discovered

her passion for creative writing in the Rocky Mountains of
Colorado. Many of her stories reflect real conversations from
her serving of wine, beer and raviolis.

Complete the submission

form

online

at

nomoreblacktea.com/submissions

James McCarthy (Tales of The Firefly Lantern, Part One,

Lunch At La Dolce Vita, 36th St & Pleasure Point,
The Minds Mirror, The Hawk and Lizard, Finding
Somewhere Only We Know, A Short Scene, My Secret
Daughter) is a writer of poetry & prose and has a passion
for writing, publishing, photography and outdoor adventure.

Emma Long (Bedside Manners, P. 11) has four daughters

(5, 11, 15 and 16) and a son and resides in a small Arizona
community. She writes, paints and loves her bike.
Taylor Evans (How To Break A Platinum Promise, P. 14)
is studying journalism at the University of Oregon, Eugene
when he isnt photographing light houses and the ocean.
Christine Thomas (Tell Me The Story Again, P. 18) lives
in Northern California and is currently working on her first
Young Adult novel.
Stephanie Drey (Wandering Aimlessly Through A
Misspelled Love, P. 23) is a university student studying Art
History and Music.
Evan Trager (Bring Out The Sunshine, Cover Photo, P. 19)
is a Northern California outdoor photographer.
Other contributors include: Alisha Barnes, Jamie Edwards, Samuel
Schull and Tommy Vanderbilt, by Aime Black, Angela Serrato, Lucas
Knebel, Jess Mahaney and Doug Menuez.

Or, mail to:

8149
P.O. Box 1474
Roseville, CA

95678

submityours@nomoreblacktea.com

8149 IS A TRADEMARK OF BLACK TEA PRESS COPYRIGHT 2014. ALL RIGHTS

RESERVED. PRINTED IN THE U.S.A. VOLUME 1, NUMBER 1 (second edition), MAY 2014.
8149 (previously published as NO MORE BLACK TEA) is published quarterly. Publisher,
James McCarthy. 8149 accepts original short fiction 1500-5000 words, scenes 750-1500 words,
poetry, photography and art for publication. Our complete guidelines are available online
at http://eightonefortynine.com/submissions/ and material can be submitted online or
by mailing your submissions directly to us at: Black Tea Press, P.O. Box 1474, Roseville, CA
95678. By submitting your material to No More Black Tea you are agreeing to give 8149 nonexclusive worldwide rights and archival rights for digital and periodical publication in all
languages with non-exclusive reprint rights. Publication of your submission(s) is considered
payment. 8149, NO MORE BLACK TEA, BLACK TEA PRESS ARE NOT RESPONSIBLE
FOR THE RETURN OR LOSS OF, OR FOR DAMAGE OR ANY OTHER INJURY TO,
UNSOLICITED MANUSCRIPTS, UNSOLICITED ART WORK (INCLUDING, BUT NOT
LIMITED TO, DRAWINGS AND PHOTOGRAPHS), OR ANY OTHER UNSOLICITED
MATERIALS. THOSE SUBMITTING MANUSCRIPTS, PHOTOGRAPHS, ART WORK, OR
OTHER MATERIALS BY U.S. OR INTERNATIONAL MAIL (NON-ELECTRONIC) FOR
CONSIDERATION SHOULD NOT SEND ORIGINALS.

2 No More Black Tea, May 2014 (second edition)

Illustration credit: http://www.oldbookillustrations.com

Tales of the Firefly Lantern

by James McCarthy

Part One, Purple Clouds in Woodbridge | If you saw us in passing you would have no
idea about our secret or the fear flowing through our days. We accepted the complications
of the circumstances and choose to lead a double-life knowing the consequences and cope
with the paranoia that was a side-effect of our illicit behavior. We made choices sometimes
bolder than safer, but, for the moment, we lay under an apple tree above the small village of
Woodbridge Ranch while the moon crept into the sky and cuddled with the stars. Our arms
wrapped around each other. I loved this woman, but had no idea how to keep her, I thought,
turning into her and held the silver key that laid on her chest with my hand, twisting it with
my fingers, lost in the hope of what it opens: a door to somewhere only we know in a hidden
cellar we havent been able to find again.
When we find it again, she said, squeezing my hand tucked under her back, its going
to be magniflorious. I turned my head, our noses touching, Magniforious, I replied back,
pausing for a quick second to wish upon a star in the sky, I like the sound of that word,
and kissed her until she turned her eyes back up to the sky: an aurora of colors speckled with
white dots just like the milky way. It romanticized the air like a purple magic dust sinking
upon us and for a moment everything felt the way I imagined everything was meant to be.
May 2014 (second edition), No More Black Tea 3

Isnt it beautiful, she said, turning back

with another kiss and thinking out loud,
all those stars and galaxies somehow lined
up so our souls could find one another. I
thought about her words and how that even
while we went through the motions of our
two separate lives we never understood how
empty they were until now, even the happy
moments of our past felt alone in contrast to
right now.
A breeze kicked up over the hill and the
air covered us like a cool blanket. I pulled her
closer. She laughed at my whisper. Another
secret to share. We smiled. Trapped in a
perfect moment we have never purposely
forgotten and together escaped from truth
that poisoned our realities.
It started a few years back when we first
met and came upon an old abandoned
cellar. It had some interesting markings that
lead us on a crazy adventure down into
it. When reached the muddy bottom the
spring was dried up. Just a small puddle of
water remained with rocks in the shape of
hearts. Some were pebble size, while others
were a part of the wall with most of them
being palm sized. It was a lovely find for
an afternoon adventure. An exciting story
to be told by generations, by our childrens
children one-day. Im going to tell our kids
about this, I said, about how I met their
mother: in the bottom of a well surrounded
by heart rocks. Sarah laughed, holding the
lantern towards the East wall, our kids, she
chuckled with a flirt and playful smile, so
how many children do we have? she asked,
but before I could answer grabbed my arm,
look, pointing to what looked like a door.
Four, I answered watching her examine
the wall of rock with her hands, sliding them
along a path that outlined the doors shape.
Four sounds perfect, she replied, not really
paying attention to my words, and what are
their names? she asked while reading the
rocks like braille. I watched her fingers trace
around a heart that framed a keyhole and I
answered, Chloe, Emma, Lyla and Trevor.
She turned and looked at me. Lost in her
4 No More Black Tea, May 2014 (second edition)

own thoughts for few moments and then out

blurted, we have to find this key, running
her fingers over the shape of skeleton key,
its where we are supposed to be, she
said, I can feel right here, touching her
heart, and I dont like the name Trevor. The
others are nice though.
My eyes opened to the speckled sky,
sharing the same thoughts of hope that
continually end up back in the same place.
How the mystery of this door always teases
just enough to keep us believing in a place
that may not even exist. Fates flirtatious
game of hide and seek while we chase
shadows of a love that is always just out of
reach. And now that we have the key, we
cant find the door.
She turned her head looking at me with
her warm blue eyes soaked with sadness.
I could see that her world no longer made
sense to her if it ever did, much like my own.
Both of us married out of social conformity
and lust, not love. I had no idea what love
was back then. I was 22, what I did know?
Besides everything: love and sex were
interchangeable emotions and marriage
meant always having a warm body to cuddle
up with at night and cheaper auto insurance
and a better dental plan. I couldnt have been
more confused and coped with the eventual
lack of companionship and my marriage
grew farther apart.
Sarahs story was different. While my
marriage was turning itself inside out hers
was just beginning. Family, friends with
kids, and no lasting relationship were her
constant demons leaving her wondering
why she wasnt married and wanting kids.
Then she found him. He was attractive and
a good provider, but she knew something
was always missing, but she didnt care,
because the post-it note stuck on the back of
her uterus read the clock is ticking, but can
you really go wrong marrying a prince. He
provides her with everything she needs with
exception to the one thing she wants, and
like myself she didnt recognize what that
was until that day we looked each other in

the eyes in Castle Pines.

the trees. Actually, she started to add,
I sat up holding my knees while she
but the sound of the horses grew to be a
rubbed her hand up and down my back.
louder distraction and she took my hand.
Sarah, I said, watching the clouds conjure
We have to go, she said dragging the
in the dark sky swallowing the stars and
thousand questions that raced through my
purple magic. Is this normal? I asked,
head down the backside of Huffakers Hill
putting my hands in the air, touching the
and into the woods towards Hidden Hills.
rain, bewildered by its quick appearance.
You live in a castle! I shouted ducking
Well, she said rising to her feet and pulling under low hanging branches, You mean
herself in close to me. I could feel her heart
youre not a farm girl from Pleasant Grove?
beat through her chest against mine, when
I asked through the winds screaming. She
you live in an enchanted world,
sometimes you get enchanted
weather, she joked, but the
clouds billowed above us into
the Gods world. She kissed me
in the rain as if it didnt exist.
Thunder started to growl above
us. The steady pounding of the
ground became harder as the
horses raced closer; clanging
of swords, dogs barking and
soldiers shouting at us. Maybe
this was an enchantment, I
thought. Only once did we make
a mistake by being obviously
seen in the market of a tiny
village east of here, but that was
months ago.
Do you think he found out?
Illustration credit: Frantisek Kupka, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frantisek_Kupka
I asked. She laughed at my
question. He doesnt notice I
am gone. she said, but, I am
sure that he noticed this was gone, holding
stopped. Looked at me, and replied, No,
the key from around her neck, wrapping it
putting her fingers on my lips again with an
into her fist, Someone in town must have
Im sorry half smile that silently told me not
heard us asking questions about the heartto ask anymore questions, and said, I will
shaped door. I never really thought to ask
tell you later, and we ran. Trampling fallen
where she had found the key until now.
branches, stumbling over rocks in the moons
Where did you, she put her hand over my
shadow then hurdling fallen trees just as
mouth stopping my words. Her eyes left
quickly, fighting through the wind and cold
mine, glancing to the left down the hill and
rain that felt like drops of thorns pricking
she answered the question not looking at me, at our cheeks. The once beautiful evening
the castle.
turned into a dark and stormy night, as my
Castle? I remarked in more tone than
feet, wet and slippery slide down the rocks,
word, noticing she was staring across the
passing her.
horizon towards the burning torches that
Sarah stayed close behind tripping a few
looked like small fire flies dancing with
times over rocks hidden inside puddles,
May 2014 (second edition), No More Black Tea 5

but she got to her feet fast and in seconds

was back at my heels pushing me down the
muddy trail towards I dont know where. We
stopped at the bottom of the hillside. Sara
held her side with a glancing wince as she
jogged up to me.
Do you think anyone heard this when
it fell? I joked, looking at a large fallen oak
blocking the trail. My hair flat and black,
dripping at the ends. She bent over onto her
knees, slouched, what happened? Catching
her breath she ignored my question and
said, theyre getting closer, we need to keep
going. I drowned in the blue of her eyes
when she looked me. They couldnt hide
her pain or growing tiredness or her own
secret that she has kept from me. I wondered
how many others there may be or even if
what she has told me up to now is even
true. Confusion began to cloud my heart
and I didnt like the feeling of the one being
deceived. Another noticeable long blink
managing the pain with adrenaline and she
flipped a leg over the tree with a determined
resolution, I dont want to go back this
time. If she lied to me I thought, then she
had to have had a good reason.
I remember the stories she told me about
her life and her husband. She described him
as a good provider but often insinuated his
callous behavior, controlling nature and his
uneven temper. I didnt understand why she
wouldnt leave him. When I asked she would
only reply that it was complicated and ask
me for empathy. Now its starting to make
sense I thought: shes the Queen. I am having
a secret affair with the Queen of Castle Pines.
My head will be severed to the King on a
stick tonight I thought lost in the darkness of
the stormy night.
This enchanted weather appears to be
only getting worse, I said pointing to the
dark gray clouds and putting my hand
on her other leg. Her jacket fell open and
I saw the blood on her blouse. We need
to find shelter and get that looked at. She
was stretched out on the top of the tree,
exhausted and dripping wet. I couldnt
6 No More Black Tea, May 2014 (second edition)

tell the difference between her tears the

streaming water down her face. She was
exhausted and shook her head in agreement,
flipping herself back over the tree, where to
now then, she asked, theyll be here any
second, a thundering gallop shaking the
ground.
I caught a glimpse of the horses rounding
the bend. Small rings of rain drops vibrated
into larger circles in the puddles surrounding
us. I looked around considering our choices.
She leaned against me. I could see she was
growing more tired as the adrenaline started
to fade, The storm grew stronger and the
horses closer. I spotted a place about 100
yards from the path that would probably
work as a decent hiding place. The fallen tree
would surely defeat their effort and it would
at least give Sarah a few minutes of rest.
This way, I said grabbing her hand,
crawling over the tree and then sliding down
a small embankment into the woods. She
tripped. We fumbled in the mud and hid
behind three large boulders and waited. The
rain showering us in a steady sheet of cold.
The gloom of the night and the fight of the
storm made everything a soft blur which for
us turned out to be a blessing as it hid our
whereabouts to the horses and their riders.
Whoa! the captain bellowed. The horse
neighed and stomped in the mud and the
dogs barking at the wind and trees. We hid,
cuddled together behind the rocks. I looked
at her and put my finger in front my lips
with a silent Shh. She held her side and
closed her eyes, resting her head against me,
giving up for the moment while we blended
into the sounds of the storm waiting for the
Kings men to leave.
Marcus, John, the captain called, start
chopping, he ordered, pointing at the log
that had to be 4 or 5 feet in diameter and
100 feet long. None of the horses would try
to jump it. In fact climbing over it was hard
enough. The mud was like a slippery black
ice. Branches breaking and falling, winds
bending the smaller twig-like trees in semicircles. Leaves chasing each other in a swirl

of child play on a school playground.

A solider galloped up next to the captain
and looked around. They cant be far, he
said. The captain snapped, And why do
you think that Kristof? Kristof squinted
his eyes, as if seeing through the raindrops,
they are on foot Kristof, he said, not even
the horses want to be out in this weather,
he gave his stallion a wet, smack on the
side, so they will be running at a slower
speed to avoid injury and most likely keep
to the trail, pointing beyond the fallen tree.
Unlikely, Kristof replied at his Captains
finger, we would most likely see them had
they continued down the trail.
Kristof had years of experience tracking
people for the King which is what quickly
moved him through the ranks of the
Kingdoms Guard and into the Kings secret
police. Also, the reason they have chased
the Queen and the mystery man through the
woods this stormy night.
The Captain grunted in defeat, taking a
quick look over the embankment that we had
just slid down, adding, this weather makes
it impossible for us to track them, pausing,
I am afraid that the chase will end at this
tree, Kristof.
Kristof looked up the hill and didnt see
that as a sensible way to travel. It would be
too slippery and slow going. He dismounted
his horse and walked along the muddy edge
of the path. Broken branches hung in front of
him, subtle but suspicious. He touched them,
as if they talked to him and then stared into
the woods through the downpour straight at
the rocks we hid behind. I could feel his eyes.
Keeping still made the night even colder
with the uneven, gusty winds and pelting
rain, at times frozen, but we huddled
together and waited. How did you get this
key, taking it my fingers, from the castle, I
whispered when a soldiers voice called back
out to the Captain. Kristof, she whispered
to the sound of the voice. Whos Kristof?
I asked. She wrapped her around mine and
looking at me with a stare that I have never
seen before and said with a courage I has

also never seen until now, You need to let

me handle this.
The Captain gave the horse a light tap
with his spurs and trotted over to the edge of
the trail. Down there, Kristof said pointing
at the 3 boulders we were hiding behind,
thats the direction they went. The Captain
looked down at him and asked how he knew
that. Kristof turned to the broken branch and
then back out at the woods, look over there,
maybe 20 yards, beyond the fallen tree
he explained, it looks like they slipped,
pointing to a cleared muddy spot where
Sarah stumbled and we fell. Even the horses
are too smart to try and walk down this
embankment in this weather, the Captain
replied. He swatted at the rain trying to
clear his view peering into the woods. The
Captain was loyal to his promise to the King
and his orders, but he wasnt going to lose
or injure men over them this time. He has
searched for the Queen before. Knows of her
illicit behavior and if the Queen wanted to
leave, he believed she had that right. Kristof
signaled a few men to come over and one by
one they slid down the shallow, but muddy
embankment. No more than 100 yards, he
said, as a bolt of lightening struck the ground
nearby breaking a cracking a tree branch
above.
She looked me with those eyes I only see
when its time for her to leave. Dont look
at me like that, I said. I have to go, she
replied taking off the necklace and putting
the key in my hand telling me to keep it safe,
kissed me and then whispered, meet me at
the Hawk and Lizard Bridge in three days
time.
She stood up and walked back into the
storm and the company of her Kings men.
The wind stopped and the rain lightened to a
drizzle.
No one even cared I was here.
The End

May 2014 (second edition), No More Black Tea 7

Photo credit: layoutsparks.com, http://bit.ly/1yHH1dP

The Dream Walker

By Coleen Whitmore

A stream of guilty thoughts about yesterdays dirty lunch date washed over my hands
doing tonights dishes: rinse and repeat, the monotony reminded me of my marriage. I cook,
he eats, I wash, he sleeps, he wakes, we fuck, I sleep and we do it all over again tomorrow.
Picking up a plate, circling the sponge in soapy water I once again thought about having
that difficult I dont love you anymore conversation with Scott. I have had it inside my
head, and heart so many times with myself but always losing my courage. Tonight was no
different.
Scott was almost asleep in the living room and for a very brief moment I remembered
when we did the dishes together, watched tv next to each other on the couch, sometimes
falling asleep with my head in his lap. Well, that was almost 11 years ago and things change.
I Looked back at him over my shoulder and saw the top of the green pillow wiggle and his
arm flop on top of it. The white noise of dishes and running water in the background was
in a way peaceful to us both. We werent arguing or having to look at each other with blank
feelings for the sake of our son who was eating with us. I looked around and couldnt see
Junior. He must be in his room playing video games with the cat again. It was the perfect
time, I thought, the words, Scott we need to talk about things as I pushed his legs aside sitting
next to him. They were so close but so afraid of coming out. I lost myself looking out the
window, somewhere between where I was and where I wanted to be.
Oh shit, I muttered in a low voice.
What? Chris mumbled from the couch just about to enter his evening beer-coma. I
think I dropped my wedding ring in the sink.
Leaning closer into the window, watching a man walk across the street towards the house.
He had blue jeans, a black jacket and baseball cap on in. He was unmistakable to me because
I just saw Chris yesterday afternoon and drew a white heart on that jacket with a piece of
chalk while he looked down into my eyes and told me that he didnt want me to leave. What
is he doing, I asked myself, watching him stop in the middle of the road and stare back at
me. I shook my head at him, wet soapy hand on my mouth. His eyes closed and when then
opened back up pointing his finger at himself. Then crossed his arms on his chest in an x
and pointed a finger at me. I love you he said without words and then disappeared, crossing
behind the stop sign on the corner of my front yard.
8 No More Black Tea, May 2014 (second edition)

I turned off the water and

dried my hands. Walking
past Scott, I heard his light
snoring and noticing his
third beer sitting on the
coffee table walked lightly
to the door, hoping I would
get there before the knock or
worse the door bell.
I slowed inched the
door, a shallow creak in the
hinges and watched Chris
walk up to me. The screen
door separating us. Why
are you smiling I thought.
What are you doing here?
I said, you cant be here,
I told him, looking back
towards the living room. Its
dangerous, I whispered
through the mesh of the
screen, if he wakes up,
I paused, pulling the door
inside my house closer to me
to conceal my voice, if he
wakes up and finds you here,
he will probably kill you,
especially after what you
have done.
Chris stood there smiling
at me, Why are you here?
I asked again, please, I
said slightly annoyed and
increasingly scared that Scott
will wake up any minute
now, or Junior will come out
looking for one of us. Tell
me or I am closing this door.
Come with me, Chris
said, holding out his hand.
You told me he abuses you,
then leave. My face became
blank by his words. Its not
that bad, I replied back and
took a deep breath, thinking,
I cant believe this happening,
then softly pushed open the
front door so it wouldnt

squeak and stood in front of

him. I could smell him again
and wanted to wrap my
arms around him and feel his
warm body, run my hands
through his short hair, but I
couldnt. The undertow of
anger grew inside me and a
fear struck me.
You know I cant do
that, I answered, not right
now at least, and I put my
hand flat on his heart like the
day before looking into his
eyes with a pleading please,
you have to go, but at the same
didnt want him to leave and
was secretly walking down
the street with him into
somewhere else where I was
just dreaming. Then I pushed
him away, go. He stepped
back taking my arm. I felt
his grip not willing to let go.
The touch of the black fleece
made me remember the day
we met at the hotel and I
never wanted to leave. I put
my hand on his and for the
safety of all of us I begged
him to leave and I would talk
to him tomorrow. He will
kill you, I whispered slowly,
fighting back the emotional
pull towards him, as he
looked into my blue eyes but
had no words. Please, I
begged, let me handle this,
kissing him three times; once
for every word that I could
no longer say out loud: I love
you.
I slipped back inside and
closed the door. My forehead
gently made a thud on the
back of the door thinking
that I should have went with
him; ran out with Junior

right then and there and left

this bad choice behind, but I
cant just do it. Scott said he
would kill him, and me, if I
ever I left for him and that he
would take everyone I love
away from me, including
Junior.
Scott slept in his beer
nap while I lived in the
shadows of his dominance
manipulated by fear and
coercion.
He heard a banging in his
head like a door knocking
and then muffled voices like
running water. Fine, he
said, I will get it, put his
beer on the kitchen counter
while Christine stared
outside washing the dishes
like she always does after
dinner.
He opened it and saw
him. Dressed in blue jeans,
a black jacket and baseball
cap. He knew exactly who
this intruder of his life was.
What are you doing here?
he asked through the screen
door.
Wheres Christine?
Go away, he answered,
and dont come back here
again.
He wasnt as tall as I
thought, maybe 5 foot 6 or 7,
wearing an old faded North
Face t-shirt in her favorite
shade of Navy blue. His hair
was a sandy blond like his
sons.
She told me you abuse
her and she wants to leave.
His face had a painted
expression of anger, anxiety
and pride. The memories
of her explaining the affair

May 2014 (second edition), No More Black Tea 9

rattled him.
Scott, who is it? Christine asked from the kitchen.
Youre boyfriend, he replied just before a deafening bang,
an metal chime of the shell casing bouncing on the floor.
What the hell was that, Christine shouted, running to
the door. He watched her run through the door, just as we
fell to our knees looking at our hands stained red almost in
surprise. He watched her lift my head and heard her call
my name. Small, rapid footsteps thumped against the new
hardwood floors as Junior ran closer, standing next to his
dad with holding a gun by his side.
Mommy, what was that noise? Christine looked back at
her son through the screen, go to your bedroom, she said
with a cracking voice. Junior just stood there looking at the
blood on her hands, -now, she yelled and looked back at
Scott with fear and anger. You did what you said you would
do. Now take your son to his room and call an ambulance.
She turned back to me and wept with anger saying I told
you hed shoot you. She pressed down on the black fleece
jack, soaked red, trying to slow the bleeding and looked into
his eyes. Through the screen Scott saw her lips moving but
couldnt hear her words, Dont leave me, she said, I love
you and just found you, you impatient idiot.
He took his sons hand and disappeared into the delayed
sound of someone knocking at the door. He noticed Christine
wasnt at the sink and got off the couch looking for her.
Who was at the door? I wiped the tears from my eyes
and turned around. It was just a high school kid selling
magazines, I answered, and Im sorry if our talking woke
you up.
He looked at her with a strange deja-vu confusion and
chuckled. You know I was having the weirdest dream, he
said looking into her eyes. You had an affair and the guy
came to the door saying that I abused you and then I shot
him and you ran to his side but I couldnt hear what you
were saying to him over the sound of the sirens.
Well its a good thing dreams are only dreams, I
answered walking back to the kitchen, and, nothing more.
Hey, did you find your ring?, Scott asked from around
the corner. I looked at the blue Bud Light Platinum bottle
on the coffee table and answered back that Ive still got it,
slipping it back on my finger, It didnt fall too far this time.
I stood in front of the sink of cold, soapy water and
watched Chris walk away thinking to myself dont stop
trying, one day I will say I do.
The End
10 No More Black Tea, May 2014 (second edition)

Photo credit: Doug Menuez | http://dougmenuez.com/tag/fate/

Bedsides Manners (erotica)

By Emma Long

The reading lamp on the

nightstand warmed the room
with soft yellow light. Above
the short, but long bookcase,
a tv was mounted on the
wall, her jewelry box and a
silver necklace laid on the
surface along with a family
photo from last November.
They all wore matching blue
jeans and white t-shirts and
posed against a dilapidated
wooden fence, the ground
sprinkled by autumn
colors; their smiles hid the
exhaustive argument they
had on the way to the outing.
A circular votive candle
holder hung over the bed
but never used. The bed was
made, as she always made
it after they showered in the
morning, and two chairs
sat in each corner of the

bedroom with her night shirt

flung over one of them and
his sweat pants on the other;
slippers tucked underneath.
Undressing from the
day, she pulled the white
and pink lettered shirt over
her head. Kneeling beside
the bed she reached under
dragging out an old shoe
box that had a large orange
sales sticker on it and took
out a small brown leather
journal then pushed the
box back where she kept it
hidden from her husband;
sometimes even herself.
Tossing the sheets aside,
she laid down and opened
the journal.
August 14, 2009
Okay, you can give
me a hug, she said to me,
looking at me warmly with

eyes smiling from the inside

out and a voice that I just
knew. We hugged, and let
our hearts beat against each
other. I didnt want to let go
as they made-out like lovecrazy teenagers. We stood
in the middle of the Subway
parking lot,leaning against
her white Ford, captivated by
one another until our arms
fell to their sides holding
hands. I glanced down and
saw our fingers interlocked
in a sweet yet complicated
reunion, then back up over
her boobs and into her blue
eyes where I am forever a
hostage to her beauty and the
tan line on her finger. This
explained what she wouldnt
tell me until I drove 1,374
miles to see her, but it was
already too late. It didnt

May 2014 (second edition), No More Black Tea 11

matter to either one of us

that was married. We had
already fallen in love with no
more than a hug and touch
of the hand, and I knew that
all I wanted was to take her
with me into the rest of my
life. Time passed quickly: the
park, lunch at La Dolce Vita
and a never ending kiss that
changed our lives. On the
drive back to California she
textd, I want to feel you
inside me. A tease that lead
to the most enjoyable drive
through the Great Salt Lake.
#end
She placed the journal face
down on her chest closing
her eyes, taking herself back
to that conversation. Her
cheeks blushing the color of
her lipstick which she hadnt
taken off yet. She bit down
on the corner of her lower
lip, touching herself in a
way she also remembered
him touching her on that
midnight rendezvous outside
the movie theater and then
again in the hotel room a
month later. Moistening her
fingers in her mouth, she
slid them under her shorts.
The soft brush of her wet
finger touching her sensitive
skin. A tickling sensation
flowed through her body
while she massaged herself
gently, turning pages of the
journal. A soft moan as her
finger became wetter and
slightly dipped inside her
discovering a warm, sticky
pleasure. Moving her finger
in and out, she closed her
eyes for a moment, enjoying
the delight.

September 15, 2009.

I cant explain how
wonderful today was. She
stood in front me with those
angelic eyes I remember
from the month before and
immediately grabbed my
lips with hers. Do you have
any music? she asked me.
I opened the laptop on the
nightstand double-clicked
the playlist she made for me:
Keep Me In Your Thoughts
by Stephen Kellogg and
the Sixers filled the room.
She stood at the foot of
the bed, shoulder length
blonde hair looking at me in
nothing but her blue panties
and matching bra with a
seductive come and get
me smile. My eyes lusting
up and down her petite
body as it crawled on top of
me taking my lips into her
mouth. She held me, hard,
moving her hand, while my
erection grew harder and
my hand slipped under her
panties feeling the warm,
wet pleasure of her sex,
finger sinking shallowly
inside her fire. She moaned
and rocked her hips a few
times then spun on top of
me, grinding against my
dick. I unsnapped her bra.
She wiggled it off her arms,
left then right, staring deep
into my eyes with a naughty
smile. My hand cupping her
squishy boobs, my thumbs
circling her nipples; our
mouths open and tongues
twist together. She rubbed
down against me, her panties
sliding askew, letting the
tip of my penis slide inside

12 No More Black Tea, May 2014 (second edition)

her, slippery and warm. She

lifted her waist back and up
slowly, starting a rhythm: up
and down, back and forth,
whispering, Mm, I love how
you feel inside me, between
long breaths as the sensation
spread through her body,
swinging her hips back into
me again. I felt my cocks tip
touch her soft pillow; warm,
tingling and erotic. Slowly
pressing farther inside her
wet and happy flower,
tight, warm and hot. She
squeezed her legs into my
side and moaned, I want
to feel you cum inside me,
wrapping her arms around
my back and pulling my
upper body down on top her
breasts. Her waist rocking
with my motion as we start
the pattern again: up and
down, left and right and
down again, slowly in and
out. A sensuous tempo. The
pleasure desiring to release
tickled by a growing pressure
from my toes to my finger
tips which ran through her
blonde hair. I moved inside
her somewhere in between
slow and then deep and
fast and then slow until her
finger nails lightly ran down
my shoulders and sides of
my back while her soul was
massaged by an exhaustive
orgasm. I was about to cum
and pushed deep inside
her until I felt that soft,
warm pillow surrounded by
our warm release. My lips
buried in her neck, feeling
completely vulnerable
yet totally satisfied. She
whispered, I love you.

#end
She slipped her hand out from under panties
back over her belly and between her breasts
with a self-satisfied, quiet moan.
His silhouette stood in the door watching
her. What are you reading? he asked with
a curiosity and stretched himself out on the
bed beside her. Just an old journal of mine
from high school that I found in the garage
this afternoon, she answered. His hand
rested on top of her bare, naked leg stroking
its smoothness along the inside of her thigh.
She was wet and aroused from the journal and
sensitive to her husbands touch. She shivered
and took a long breath
before returning him an
obligated seductive smile
closing the pages of the
brown journal, slipping it
under the pillow.
Licking her fingers
she reached through his
boxers, rubbing his dick
hard while circling her
tongue with his and then
along his lips in a long
convincing kiss. His hand
rushed over her belly
under her shirt grabbing
her breasts, squeezing
them and then down again
between her legs tugging
her panties from around
her knees. She slid her
back down the pillow flipping him and he
dropped on top of her; his boxers tugged off
with her feet and she opened her legs like a
good wife. He quickly plunged his penis inside
her wet sensuous vagina. She moaned loud
enough so he heard her, staring at the ceiling.
Thrusting in and out; wet, smooth, warm
and fast. She put a hand on his shoulder, her
other under the pillow, escaping back into the
memories, the words she just read, thinking,
you should be here instead, squeezing the
brown journal as she came.

Lunch At La Dolce Vita

By James McCarthy
White patio doors swing open
Blonde hair sways with her walk
a light bounce
The beautiful girl has arrived
Sam said raising his arm to her
beauty
An angel,
he boasted
that God himself dropped from
Heaven
A white towel hung from his arm
Pouring two glasses of wine
Her cheeks blush-pink
Her eyes blue as the sky
You told him to say that
she flirted
Glasses chime
Toasting forbidden love
Rubbing her foot against my leg
White Christmas lights
Stretched along the patios rail
Sparkling like the diamond
on her finger
What a gorgeous bride she made
running my hand along her smoothshaven leg
Eating someone elses ravioli

The End
May 2014 (second edition), No More Black Tea 13

Photo credit: Kissed By The Sun Photography | http://bit.ly/Uio9Tr

How To Break The Platinum Promise

By Taylor Evans

I drove into the office parking lot not really wanting to be here but after being forced to
confess my affair I didnt have much of a choice. It was either leave the marriage or work it
out; even if my heart really wasnt in it any more. Divorce is something I dont want to put
my son through having been part of a broken family myself as well as having a mother who
abandoned me. This is why I am looking for a parking spot, doing what I think is right, yet
never more confused about anything in my life.
Circling a few rows of cars, I finally pulled into a spot in the back where Scott could easily
see me. The leaves on the trees were hanging heavy from the rain and run-off rushed like
a mini river down the roads edge. It was nice to sit and watch the rain express how I felt
inside.
Ironic, I thought, as I listened to Adeles Someone Like You fill the car. A cool mist
tickled my cheek as rain spit inside from the cracked window while I waited and cried and
thought more about whether I sincerely wanted to be here.
So this is what it looks like to cry from the inside I thought watching the water bead and
stream down the windshield. Why am I here I kept thinking to myself. The music washing out
the sound of my confusion. The songs lyrics soaking into my head with vivid dream-like
memories of those days Scott tells to forget. The past is the past, he says.
I heard that youre settled down / That you found a girl and youre married now / I heard that
your dreams came true / Guess she gave you things I didnt give to you
Those lyrics are right, I thought, Im married now, looking at my ring, turning it slightly
with my thumb, thinking about the drive through the mountains with Josh and when I
shared the story about how I picked the platinum wedding band of blue sapphires out
myself; how I told my bridesmaid getting into the limo after the ceremony that I couldnt do
this; how its not that I love him that matters, but how -- an internal conflict of pride, guilt
14 No More Black Tea, May 2014 (second edition)

and submissive, faithful duty.

Regrets and mistakes, theyre memories made
/ Who would have known how bittersweet this
would taste?
Scotts truck pulled up my beside my car.
I wiped the tears and rain from my eyes and
turned off Adele. We ran through the rain
into the counselors office.
A degree in Marriage and Family
Counseling hung on the wall over his desk. A
country style couch with light green and blue
flowers sat across from a low back, espresso
colored swivel chair and side table with
a white Starbucks coffee cup and a spiral
notebook. He sat down with a smile which
started our first counseling session.
I was here in mind, as they say, but not in
heart. I had to play the game in order to stay
with my son and keep Scott from getting
mad. Hes a good provider, but not a nice
man when you cross him. His words often
shameful and disrespectful; controlling.
Scary.
The rain is nice change today? the
counselor asked smiling at us. We leaned
against the sofas arms, legs crossed, sitting
at opposite sides. I held a pillow thinking to
myself again, I have to be here for my son. He
deserves the best life possible.
How long have you been married? the
counselor asked, picking up his notebook
from the side table. There was an awkward
moment of silence. My eyes staring the gray
carpet.
8 years, my husband finally
answered. His voice, a tone of
disappointment. I cant imagine
how he felt after my betrayal, but
it didnt feel like I was betraying
him. I didnt really even think about
it. It felt right. It felt like I had just
found the person who was always
missing in my life and what I was
doing really didnt become real
until that night I peed on a stick
and it said: Yes, youre pregnant.
I realized then that I was trying
to escape from something I didnt

want to understand. My husband and I are

happy, I told myself again, half aware of the
continuing awkward silence of the room. I
know we are happy. We are having another
baby I though, but I dont feel happy like on
the inside; I feel alone.
Christine, the counselor spoke, noticing
my apparent lack of engagement in the
conversation. There are 10 emotional
needs that every marriage must meet, he
continued, do you know what they are? I
looked up from the staring at the carpet with
a depressed smile and shook my head no. He
returned an empathetic half smile. The words
let me explain them, followed.
#1 Affection, Another Day Another Year
He walked over to me and leaned in for a kiss.
I sighed and put one arm around him, patting his
shoulder and asked Do you feel better now? He
leaned back still close enough for a kiss and said,
kiss me. I half-smiled and replied, brush your
teeth first.
#2 Sexual Fulfillment, You Suck
Chloes sleeping like a baby, he said putting
his hand on my smooth, naked leg just under my
shorts. Stop I thought, looking at him, moving
his hand onto the sheets between us and raising
my Nook in front my blue eyes, deep enlarging
pupils. I have a headache, I answered and went
back to reading 50 Shades of Gray.

May 2014 (second edition), No More Black Tea 15

#3 Conversation, Whats For Dinner

Walking through the front door he made
it known it was a tough day at work by loud
footsteps down the hall and the slam of the door
from the garage. The voices of Phineas and Ferb
between us, standing behind me and despite my
lack of interest, continued, saying, anyhow, I
lost the blah-blah-blah account, shaking his head,
I need a beer. I rested my blonde head on top
of juniors, absorbed in his little 9 year old world
while distracted by an agitated voice asking from
the kitchen, whats for dinner? TSST, a Bud
Light Platinum popping open. I looked his way
answering, whatever, we already ate, kissing
my sons head.
#4 Recreational Companionship, Do You
Want To Go To The Lake Today?
My beautiful body stretched down the slender
couch, angelic eyes concealed behind this weeks
People Magazine. You didnt start the coffee?
he asked, shirtless and bed-headed. No, I
answered, thinking to myself, read between
the lines dick head, while listening to the coffee
grinder work and kitchen drawers make a musical
thudding rhythm. Junior and I are going to the
lake today, you coming? he asked standing at my
toes which I just finished painting purple. I put
the magazine face-down on my chest and looked
at him for a long second, before answering, No, I
have errands to run today.
#5 Honesty and Openness, Sugar Rush
I will try my best, I textd then deleted from
my phones messages app right before it vibrated
again with a new message, do you want to
meet for lunch? fingers paused on the slide out
keyboard while I thought for a moment about
how to respond back to him . My fingers jumped
around the keyboard spelling it out, I cant. I
have to run to Target and buy some candy for
juniors harvest festival after school today, with
short clicks ending on Send; fingers typing again,
William Hughes Park 1pm. I only have a few
minutes. M u.
#6 Physical Attractiveness, Body & Mind
I got out off bed and slipped my panties back
16 No More Black Tea, May 2014 (second edition)

on. I could feel him watching me. What? I

asked at his naked reflection in the mirror, It was
hard not to notice his pale gut and foolish look of
thinking he doesnt have to worry about charming
the woman he takes to bed anymore. He took my
beauty for granted. I knew it and looked at myself
in the same mirror, smiling, knowing another
man wants to appreciate every goose bump on my
smooth skin that arouses. I thought you were
coming, he said patting his hand on the sheets
next to him while I slipped my boobs into my
sports bra. No, Ive already done that, I smiled,
rosy cheeks, didnt you even notice? He pulled
the sheet up, covering himself, watching me finish
getting dressed: black riding shorts and a navy
blue shirt then pull my hair back into pony tail.
I turned around and looked at him trying to put
how I felt into words: you are slightly more
pleasurable than my vibrator. Im going to the
lake for a ride. Be home later.
#7 Financial Support, Trade Off
His laptop screen reflected the Mastercard bill
in his glasses, as he asked, What did you buy at
Ulta? Perfume, I answered while crocheting
on the couch. And, what in the world did you
spend $63.27 on at Victorias Secret? he also
asked starting to sound pique. I put down my
needles and yarn and lifted up my shirt, this
bra, I answered, and what I wore to bed last
night. He sighed, lost in a reflection of his own
plight, adding Youve got to be kidding, head
shaking at me, Cheesecake Factory and Teaz and
Pleaz?, sigh, What are you thinking? Again,
I looked up and answered cheesecake and a little
pleasure, with a devilish grin. Do you want to
play? I asked. He returned a cold stare. Tired of
his grumbling I said Im going back to work,
His stare became frustrated and I finished by
reminding him it was his turn to do the laundry.
#8 Domestic Support, Roommates
The Saturday morning sun glinted through the
half open blinds across an unmade bed. The steam
after two showers filled the room a soft, misty fog.
I thought we would run to Costco and then pack
the boat up for winter after lunch, he said, still
wrapped in a towel, looking for a t-shirt, asking

me, I thought you were going to hang these up

yesterday. I slipped a leg into my cycling shorts
and answered, Im not your mother. He exhaled
loudly and mumbled, What the hell do you do
all day? Thinking I didnt hear him, but I did
and I thought about it: I went and left a bag of
Reeses Pieces on a doorstep, scratched a heart on
a wooden bridge in the park and picked up my
son from school. I looked at him with a smile and
answered Im going to the park for a bike ride.
On the way out of the bedroom, I turned around
adding, Also, make the bed after putting away
your clothes.
#9 Admiration, Dont Cry Over Spilled
Milk Sweetheart
Id ask him to go get the milk but hed
probably find a way to screw it up, I typed
smiling. Who are you texting? he asked.
My boyfriend, I snarked without blinking his
direction. He looked at me with a growing resent
and exhaled a silent fuck you.

head to the left towards me, when you

leave today take some time together and
talk about those things. He smiled at the
room and finished up his helpful advice
with, remember, communication in any
relationship is the glue to happiness.
I felt my phone vibrate in my purse and
took it out, How r u? I read, I didnt have
the courage to tell him its over, I textd
back. It vibrated a few seconds later, thats
what you said last time. My fingers swiped
across the keyboard in angst, I told you to
let me handle it. Another shake from the
phone, hes never going to leave, it read. I
swiped back, you dont know that.
Scott watched me and asked a little bit
annoyed, who are you texting?
The sitter, I lied.
I paid the counselor $50 and we left
without change.
The End

#10 Family Commitment, Stand-Off

We need to talk, I said sitting
on the couch across from him. Im
not happy and staying for junior
isnt working. I took a long breath,
wiping a tear from my cheek, hearing
him mutter Why? I looked at
him with my watery eyes and
explained, Its fine, at times, but
its missing something still, even
after the counseling and the second
chance you gave me, I blew my
nose and looked at him, We love
each other for junior, not for us.
He sighed, realizing she was right,
thinking, isnt that why we agreed
to stay together after your affair,
and asked, Okay, now what? A
long silence stood between us until I
answered, you leave.
Well, the counselor said with
a short sigh, Scott, looking at
him, Christine, turning his
May 2014 (second edition), No More Black Tea 17

Tell Me
The Story Again
By Christine Thomas
I grabbed the lapels of her blue peacoat
jacket, pulled her close and kissed her. Her
lips were warm and soft like her cheeks I
held between my hands.
This time, I said between another kiss,
looking into the blue mystery of her eyes lost
in an ocean of dreams, I lovingly whispered,
lets try something different. She smiled,
pushing her hair away from her face as the
Nevada wind swirled around us, Mount
Rose blurred in the background. We will,
kissing me back she said, rolling her hands
around the back of my head, through my
hair.
I knew what she meant, I thought. I have
heard it before so many times that I didnt
know what to believe any longer. In fact,
it was at this exact same spot on this Hill
that she wrote in a letter three years earlier.
I thought about her declaration of love and
feelings for me. The raw vulnerability of her
words held close to my heart until the day
she lied about everything she had written
in those pages. Those words crumpled into
a meaningless excuse. It was just a fling
she told her husband and everyone her
image meant something to. She excused
her passionate words justifying they were
crafted by the emotional loss of her child and
did not mean what they said. I care for you
but I dont love you she later wrote because
people were now watching.
It was different this time though. Today,
there was no fear of consequence or talks
about being controlled, or guilted into trying
to make her marriage work. She was in a
better place this time. I could feel the peace
she had finally found in her difficult decision
after so many years of struggle, depression
and dominance over her life. Her eyes had
a courage that I remember the first time
looking into them that cool day in Colorado.
18 No More Black Tea, May 2014 (second edition)

Her hands slid down my side, a tender

kiss . I and want to leave him.
Our connection no longer had to reach
through dreams or decipher cryptic messages
or hide in the shadows of our disposable
emotions anymore. We stood on top the Hill
this time unconstrained by the complexities
of our fears -free to love at last and scream
it from the mountain top if we wanted to
or whisper it into each others ear in bed
without guilt. This time she meant it.
Look, she said, pointing to a red-tail
hawk circling above our heads, playing in
the wind, its like everything is right where
its suppose to be finally, watching the bird
glide in circles then swoop down landing
on a rock below. It only took us five years,
she said with a small love-me smile. I could
see my old smiling face in reflecting in the
dilated pupils of eyes from five years earlier.
This is where I kissed you last time, she
said, do you remember? sliding her hands
into the front pockets of my jeans like she did
the time before. I could feel her hands as they
fell deeper inside and pulled me close.
Her lips reached towards mine meeting
with another kiss, lasting until the sun set.
The End

Minds Mirror
By James McCarthy
There are times I see myself
in the opaque moments of the day
fractal, diamond reflections of life
here and over there
reaching at them
pressing my fingers together
pinching air a moment
somewhere between today
and tomorrow
I see who I am meant to be.

Bring Out The Sunshine

Cover Photograph By Evan Trager
This photograph was taken in Rocklin, California off Sierra College Blvd. in late February
2014. I love the oaks in this area, especially in the early Spring when you can still see the
strong, twisted definition and strength of the branches and limbs before the leaves fill in the
sleeping beauty.

When I first drove by this awesome tree on my way into Lincoln,

California, it called out to me to go sit under it; lean against its trunk,
kick my feet up on rock and read a little Paulo Coelho.
Unfortunately this tree is on private property so the closest I will get to living out that
dream is to print it, frame and it hang it on my family room wall.
It was taken using a Nikon D600 with a Nikon 24-120mm lens at 102mm, f/8, 1/250 sec
and ISO 100. I converted the photo to black and white using Lightroom 5. The color image
has the most vibrant blue sky, green buds and grass. I felt that the black and white version
expressed the emotion when I first saw it: strong, hard-lines and alone, desiring company
despite it was surrounded by sunshine and passers-by admiring its freedom.
May 2014 (second edition), No More Black Tea 19

Finding Somewhere Only We Know

By James McCarthy

She stepped off the bucket and stood in

front of the door. I looked up, and asked
myself how we would get back to the top,
but it didnt seem to matter. Everything
that I needed was right here in front of me,
beautiful, smooth, warm, soft golden strands
of hair which seemed to faintly luminescence
and I didnt care if we ever left the damp
murkiness of this well as long as we were
together.
I watched her look at it. Running her
fingers along the archway of stone shaping
the top of a heart, the aged wood exterior,
cracked and warped and dark like the dirt
surrounding it. In the middle, framed like a
window, was a painting of a tree; tall with
blossoming orange flowers. Despite how old
everything was, the painting was in pristine
condition. The door wasnt large, maybe 5 feet
tall and 3 feet wide but still doesnt explain
how we missed it earlier. Here it is though, in
front of us now, once again.
She knocked. I guess no ones home, she
said joking. I like her sense of humor, the way
she teases me with her smile. I pointed to a
rusted latch where a heart shaped lock was
the only thing between us and whatever was
on the other side.
Its another heart, she said softly. Why
are we whispering, I asked, holding the heart
lock in my hand. I dont know, she said,
but come here, and kissed me three times
whispering I - love - you, between each
and placing her hand on my chest, just you,
slipping the key from around my neck and
sliding it into the locks heart. A short click
echoed against the walls. The latch fell open.
We looked at each other with no words, just
a smile as she took my hand and squeezed it
opening the door.
A ray of light cast against the ground over
our shoes as the door edged open. A loud
sucking wind chasing us from behind and the
Hawk swooped above us with a shrill cry into
20 No More Black Tea, May 2014 (second edition)

the sky.
Taking her hand; ring vanishing in a poof
of purple smoke, we tucked our heads and
walked into what very well could be our
destiny or our greatest mistake.
The End
(*A teaser from a future chapter of Tales of The
Firefly Lantern, Part One (Page 3).

36th St. And Pleasure Point

By James McCarthy
10:38PM
iphone dims

stay in your car

-she texts

-closes the door

why do you have a bassinet

in your backseat?

thats too bad with a wink

drive
at the corner of 36th St. and Pleasure Point
bodies moving like waves
sweat tastes like ocean
on our lips and tongue
she pushes my hand
into the cushion of her heart
- boom, boom, boom, boom
sharing an unspoken vow
a shooting I love you
through the Santa Cruz sky
the tide pulled back by Amphitrite
sitting on the moon above us
watching, wondering
what are they going to do
she whispers between a kiss
I have to go

My Secret Daughter

The Hawk
And Lizard

By James McCarthy

By James McCarthy

Chloe
Mom
Stop feeding the birds your french fries
She looked at her mom with those just-like-her-own
blue eyes. The summer breeze lifting the thin blonde
strands around shoulders as if dancing along with the
tune she sung to herself, lost in her own little 7-year old
world. Giggling, she answered back, but they love them,
look and tossed another towards the small black birds
with gray feathers that hopped and pecked at the ground
surrounding her.
The big white ones are mean, she said, pointing,
soosh, go away mean ones. No french fries for you, only
the little baby ones.
Sara smiled watching her take another french fry from
the white paper pouch and toss it away from the mean
birds. Yes, they look so happy eating your lunch, she
said smiling back and looking at her phone vibrating
for an incoming text message: i miss you it read. Sara
smiled at it pressing the delete button and looked back
up at Chloe.
Come over here baby, mommy needs a hug.
Oookay mommy, just one more, she tosses a cold
golden fry, last one little birdie and spun-round, her
pink dress with green and purple flowers whirling with
the wind above her knees. For a moment Sarah saw
herself when she was 7 and smiled, arms open as Chloe
skipped towards her, crashing into her knocking her onto
her back onto the picnic blanket. She held Chloe tightly
in her arms and rolled left and right with her, laughing
together.
I love you mom.
Im so happy, she said with a smile, watching at the
birdies hop and peck at the ground aimlessly for more
fries.
Sara looked into the green leaves of summer above her
and thought about his text and the day they met here at
this park, holding a secret so tight to her heart, that not
even he knew about.
Her phone vibrates again in her pocket.
I love you too baby.

sagebrush
bitter sweet
dirt and pine
smells of nevada
small white dots
hang from a crescent moon
mars, venus, a slice of
scorpio
admiring Mount Rose
I found you on this hill
below a blanket of clouds
you took my hand and we
walked
hello
do you hear me,
see me, anymore
my heart is lonely
my soul vulnerable
for you
in the rain turning to snow
the sun setting into
moonlight
I look through your
misty morning fog
breathe in your cool air
show me who you are
who I am
our unfailing love
a hawk soaring above
a lizard sunning on the rock
a snake crossing the path,
squirrels chasing peanuts,
rabbits hiding in sage
my shoes scuff
around the gravel path
caked by the dry Nevada
earth
kicking the rocks
shaped in your heart
this is where i found you

The End
May 2014 (second edition), No More Black Tea 21

I Called
For You To Hear The Train
By Sara Jones-Martin

Whistle screamed
from locomotive Number 482
her blue eyes a mirrors reflection
of cotton ball clouds
swirling gray
rising into the clear autumn sky
she sits in the Alamosa Parlor Car
lost in a blurring dream
a Kinkade of pines, meadows,

wooden bridges,
riding rocky cliff edges
rolling down historic tracks
dated 1925
chatting with nature
clickety-clack, clickety-clack, (clickety-clack)
sauntering through the San Juan Mountains of
Colorado
whistle blows, shouting hello to the hawk above
down the Durango, Silverton rails

- three rings and his eyes open

- from two thousand miles away

- finger pressing answer

- he listens to her voice talking to her son

- distracted by the sounds of life
their hands together in the East
his heart lay alone in the West,
legs wrapped around a green pillow
ear to his phone
arms wrapped around her back
in two separate truths
they shared a ride along the Ainmas river
until three beeps and she was gone
passengers
going home to their hotel beds.

22 No More Black Tea, May 2014 (second edition)

#micropoetry
#heartsoup @twitter
@chloedreams you were
conceived in my dream, kicking
to my hearts love song, waiting in
my veins to be born.
@sjamesmccarthy Lets jump to the
moon and chase the stars, pulling
those Santa Cruz waves back to
where they belong.
@florentin0ariza She opened the
purple envelope unfolding a
torn page from a familiar book
and only had to read the page
number, 126, to know what it
meant.
@nomoreblacktea the meds let
you love him with a comfortable,
blissful numbness while you live
in happiness through hazy blues
trying to remember emotion.
dont let yourself not feel.
@scandy1029 Thoughts kept
hidden, Compartmentalized.
Stored w/in the confines Of my
mind. Urging 2b heard,2b read &
w/paper & pen,I write
@Lotus_Heals The disillusions
of you Shattered your dreams &
mine You did not want to give it
time There was another standing
already in line
@newponics ive spent so much
time w/my illusions of you i dont
know who is real i thought i had
you figured out misled by what i
feel

Follow us on Twitter

@nomoreblacktea

Publishers Note:
Believing In Destiny
Wandering Aimlessly
Through A Misspelled Love
By Stephanie Drey
misguided
mistrusted
silent & alone
she walks through her day
holding hands with fiction
sunshine that is not hers
air which she is forced to share
the sweet love of her child
is all she stays for
a heart like a hotel
the truth she bled
suffocated controlled
a domain with a forgotten soul
wandering in the smoke
of a glass pipe illusion
permissing herself to love him
with a delightful numbness
fate
wake her up
its time to go
show her heart
to why it roams
a blonde ghost in a blue world
a shadow in a misspelled love
eyes lost in gray

Hello! Thank you for

downloading and reading the
issue 1 second edition of No More
Black Tea, a literary magazine
about forbidden love and broken
hearts inspired by a now distant
friend, okay, a lover who played
her party in my life but now is
gone. She left a lasting imprint on
my heart and tattooed my soul
with a desire to find my destined
true love and courage to chase my
dream no matter what.
I hope that you like the changes
in the publications design, as
well as an additional short story,
short scene, poem and all the
photographs and illustrations
which really make the second
edition POP! I loved the ebook
idea, but PDF is so much more
sexy for where No More Black Tea
is heading.
Also, a great thanks to all the
inspiring and creative people on
Twitter that helped make this
revision a publication to be proud
of; special thanks to Michelle
for her support, feedback and
encouragement.
If you want to be part of a
future issue of No More Black
Tea, submit your
material online at
nomoreblacktea.com

searching for her Heaven

while complacent in her Hell

May 2014 (second edition), No More Black Tea 23

Roll And Write

quick dialog and ideas inspired by a roll of dice

A simple and fun way to get the fingers typing or hand writing. Take
some dice, 8-sided dice are perfect, and roll-em. Dont add them
together, but read them as a whole number and take the bigger of smaller
of the number and start writing using only the number of words which
you rolled (e.g, you roll an 8 and a 1 so your roll &write number is is
either 18 or 81).

59 rolled, by Alisha Barnes

In winter 1973, God
dropped an angel from
Heaven above. As she
descended to Earth, the
clouds colored her hair
blonde, the sky made her
eyes a calming blue, the
hawk gave her strength and
clarity, nature made her one
of a kind beautiful and the
butterflies cradled her to her
mothers womb who brought
her into the world.
36 rolled, by Jamie Edwards
I got use to the silence
and now the only voice of
hers that I hear is that of
what I remember in my head
whispering between my ears,
one more drink and she is
gone.
67 rolled, by Samuel Schull
The man woke up; cold,
sweating, dark in a highpitch silence. His wife put
her palm on his cheek. He
touched her hand, I had an
affair. Small breaths, Thats
okay hunnie, youre just
talking in your sleep again.
She rolled over; wept with

silent tears, me too. He

rolled away, sighed thinking
about her, she the other man.
Their son keeping warm
between their cold hearts.
25 rolled, by Tommy Vanderbilt
I want to give you back
my heart. Will you take it?
Its behind the wooden door
with half a moon inside a
secret elevator.
21 rolled, by Daniel Stephens
She kissed his lips, ran her
fingernails down his back,
waiting for the rain while
feeling the thunder shake
inside her.
16 rolled, by James McCarthy
An unborn soul in Heaven
weeps because you and I
were not strong enough to
change.
18 rolled, by David Torgersen
I bought you a Magic-8Ball so hopefully you can
make better choices now, but
My Sources Say No.

Submit Your Own Roll And Write

submityours@eighyonefortynine.com
24 No More Black Tea, May 2014 (second edition)

Red Light Scratch

short thoughts & ideas inspired at red lights
How do you pass the time at red lights? Take out a note book and scratch
out some quick dialog for a story, verse for a poem or song.

I Saw You This Morning, by Aime Black

You came to me this morning, sometime between 3:24 AM
and 4:48 AM, in between a dream, and cuddled against me.
We spoke no words, just lay darkness, street light flickering
outside the window behind us, your head rested against my
chest, my fingers combing through your hair until you fell
asleep and then had to leave; a moment our souls connected
somewhere between together.
Christmas Eve, by Anglea Serrto
She poured her fourth glass of wine, a Primal Roots Red
Blend, 2009, and from the kitchen said, oh, Santa, there will
be sex tonight, carrying two glasses back to the twinkling
Christmas tree. Santa was done with Christmas and sleeping
on the couch. She put his glass on the table, speaking softly,
without you I guess, walking into the bedroom alone.
The Heart And The Head, by Lucas Knebel
Disgusted, she watched him sitting on the couch,
contemplating the idea: I pretend you dont exist in between
the moments that you must. Not moving his eyes from
the tv, he felt her brooding stare and asked, What are you
thinking? She stared hopeless at him thinking to herself, you
should know.
Dont Believe Yourself, by Aime Black
A pain emerged, screaming, a deafening cry / long, soft
eyelashes pressed together like our hands / A soft breeze
from an ocean wave, carried her into a dream, where a
beautiful woman stood, dressed in all white, a veil hiding her
face, eyes for someone else, her soul could only see / A voice
spoke, asking if we do?, head faintly nodding, kissing
the whole night through / A warm feeling inside, praying
please I changed my mind / why do I keep him hidden
away, trapped in silence, when hes there in every blink of
my eye, emerging from my every thought / two people, two
hearts, beating in different places, waiting to harmonize.

Submit Your Own Red Light Scratch

submityours@eightyoneforty.com

May 2014 (second edition), No More Black Tea 25

facebook.com/grindandblowshortfilm