Wisdom From the Elderly

I've had the opportunity to work several hours a week with a sweet older couple in their nineties.  They were high school sweethearts, he is a World War 2 veteran, they had 7 children, and were missionaries in two countries.  While getting to spend time with them, I've learned a few things about their life that applies to someone of any age.

First, growing old is a choice.  Old is an equivalent to giving up.  If you ever visit a nursing home or assisted living facility; look around at the different people.  There will be the one lady who goes to all the "events" and talks to everyone, and then there will be someone else sitting in a corner.  The lady bouncing around the middle of the room could be 20 years older, but will still seem much younger.  Some people give up, some people just keep on living.  A body wears out naturally, but a soul will only wear out by choice.

Second, no one ever really figures it out.  I work along side a 94 year old woman, and she still doesn't know what to cook for dinner.  She still dreads some chores and still asks me for recipes and advice.  That was so strange to me; her asking me for advice with little things, like if I knew whether fruit would last longer if she covered it or not.  But I also realized: we never get to an age where we have life figured out.  It's okay to not have a perfect schedule, or to never get around to doing everything the internet says you have to do.  It's life, and it is imperfect.  Don't let that fact keep you from living it.

Third, people don't change with age.  It comes as kind of a disappointment to me, I'm afraid.  You know that annoying-boy-thing your little brother does?  That those teenage boys you know do?  That your dad also occasionally does?  Well, guess what?  A 95 year old man does it too.  It works the other way around, of course.  We, as girls, never stop trying to fix guys.
    As young people we tend to view old people as, well, old.  Like, in our minds, they just kind of sit there.  They walk really slowly, don't hear well, and just seem pretty disconnected from the rest of society.  But, actually, they don't change a bit.  If you get to know them, they still crack jokes like parents, flirt like teenagers, and tease like little kids.  They are actually pretty awesome: the wisdom of long life with the goofiness of someone who doesn't care what people think anymore.

Forth, don't sweat the small stuff.  Even "big" things now will be small memories way in the past soon.  Failing a test, knocking out a tail-light in your dad's truck, saying that really embarrassing thing in front of your crush; these all may seem like game-changing mess-ups that make you want to curl in a ball and die.  But don't give up.  No matter what big; it will move into the past if you let it.  Now, there is a difference between stupidity and a mistake. This isn't an excuse to live like nothing matters; more to live with the intention to make the right things matter and to let the little things go.  


And finally, a lifetime is not that long.  My dad would always say things like, "Don't blink," and "I was 8 years old, and then the next thing I knew I was 35."  As a kid I never understood that, like, how on earth could time pass that quickly.  But it seems like just a couple months ago I was 7, and now a whole decade has passed.  The lady I work for has an amazing memory and she has so many stories; of saving her money to buy a cake pan as a gift for her mother, of going on road trips in a Ford Model T, of first meeting her husband and her uncle teasing them about each other, of surviving months waiting for him to return from war, of learning Spanish and living in Mexico and South America, of keeping toys around for great-grandchildren.  Just think of how many million, billion, trillion lives have been lived on this planet.  How many tears, and laughs, and wars, and loves, and memories.  It goes so fast, friends.  Live every day for all it is worth, because it will be gone before you know it. 

Bullet Journaling: Getting Started

   If you've never heard of Bullet Journaling, let me introduce you.  A bullet journal is a system designed to be a planner, calendar, diary, notebook, to-do list, and basically anything else you want it to be.

    My mom and I stumbled across this a few months ago, but I couldn't get the hang of it.  But at the beginning of this year I decided to try it again.  And I love it.  I haven't used it every day, and I'm still working on getting it to do everything I want it to do; but overall I'm excited.

   I decided to walk you through how to set up a Bullet Journal of your own.  I would recommend that you check out the website and read about it in more detail.  But what is special about the Bullet Journal is that everyone's can, and should, look a little different to suit their needs.  I'm showing you what mine looks like.

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  First off, pick a notebook.  It should be big enough to be comfortable to write in, but small enough to carry it around.  I switched to a bigger purse to accompany my notebook of choice. (But that means the purse is also big enough for a reading book, a full wallet, and snack.  So, win-win-win.)  My notebook is from the Answers in Genesis's Creation Museum, and it is really good quality. And was pretty cheap.  I highly recommend getting one.  And going to the Creation Museum.  And basically anything to do with Answers in Genesis.

Second, open to the first couple pages and label them: "Index."  This is what holds the bullet journal together.  The idea behind the journal is that you use it for whatever you need, and you keep track of all those different things in the Index.  It is the Table of Contents.  Later I'll show a picture of what mine currently looks like.  I labeled 4 pages "Index", so I don't have to worry about running out.

 Third, set up your monthly page.  I have February filled out already, and I like to stay one month in advance.  On a new page, write the month at the top and assign a day to each line.  Write the number first, and then the initial of the day of the week next to it.  Fill in the events happening that day; like a calendar.  I also have a "Goals" section where I can write ahead of time whatever I want to get done that month.

   

   Forth, start tracking your day!  This system works where you simply write the date at the top and fill it in day by day.  Because the daily includes your to-do list and notes; it is best to prepare your daily sections the morning of or the night before.  The original Bullet Journal has different symbols for marking to-do's, notes, ideas, and importance.  I use a box for to-do's, a dash for notes, a circle for events and an star for importance.  For ideas or many notes of one theme; I find it easier to create a separate page for them.  I use the notes in the daily for keeping track of how many glasses of water I drink, activities I did that day, and such.

Fifth, make it your own!  The steps I laid out are the pieces of the Bullet Journal that make up the planner part.  The rest is up to you!  So far I have pages for music I want to buy, French phrases (I'm going to Paris this summer!) grocery lists, GF recipes, and more.  For every page (even the ones covered in past steps) mark a page number in the bottom corner, and then add the title and page numbers to the Index.  It is important to write the title first, because you may add more pages later.  For example, my French could be on pages 4, 5, and 18.  This is why the Index is important; you can always just start a new page, without worrying about things being in order.  Don't worry about having all of your daily sections for an entire month next to each other; it will be impossible; unless you don't have any other pages.  Don't be afraid to put pages of notes or lists in-between days.  To start a new page simply put the title at the top, such as "Blog Post Ideas," start a list of ideas, and then add it to the Index. 

And that's it!  I hope this was helpful.  Have you ever heard of this system, or used it before? 

 

The Seventeen Cats

My siblings and I had a 'writing contest' today, based on prompts.  (I got a "Writer's Toolbox" for Christmas and it is a.w.e.s.o.m.e.)  I decided to share my story here.  The first line had to be, "There were seventeen cats in Larry's basement." and I had to include "a weekend in Duluth" and "He was skating on thin ice- that's all I can say."

Enjoy.

There were seventeen cats in Larry's basement. He took us down there one time while we were over to his house. Larry was the kind of person with slicked back hair and a razor sharp part. He was always wearing a bow tie. On the morning in question his bow tie was sky blue with pink polka-dots. Totally hideous. We had just finished off an entire bowl of popcorn while playing Scrabble, and we asked Larry if he had anything to drink. He smiled a full-tooth grin and beckoned us down into the basement. We crept down the steps, and Larry flicked the lights on. As our eyes adjusted we saw to our relief that it was a pretty normal basement. There was a fridge, some shelves, and a gallon of fruit punch sitting on the floor. My brother scampered towards the fruit punch, and, holding it above his head like a magnificent prize, scurried back up the steps. I turned to follow him when I noticed something. A shelf was hidden in the dark, almost behind the stairs, but light was reflecting off of something sitting on it. I took a few steps forward when Larry spoke.

“Ah, my dear, I was hoping you'd notice that! Would you like to see more?”

Not waiting for an answer, he flipped another switch, and the bookshelf was illuminated. But there were no books. Just three rows of ceramic cats. They were all identical in every way it seemed. One right after the other, equally spaced; and dispute being tucked away, perfectly clean of dust. They were quite small, I suppose, about 5 inches tall. I counted quickly: three rows of six cats each, minus one on the last row.

“What are they?” I asked.

“They were my late wife's. They look pretty ordinary, but looks can be deceiving. Each one holds a little secret. Here, I'll show you.” He flipped the first cat over, and revealed that it was hollow. Inside was a single, blue button. He handed it to me, flipped the next one over, and handed me a small screw. The third revealed a key; the forth, a piece of a shoelace; the fifth, a sewing thimble. By the time he reached the end, I had a whole handful of little articles. He turned around to face me and grinned broadly.

“Do you understand now?”

I looked up at him, deeply confused. “No.” I looked down at my hands, and back at him. “No, not at all.”

He laughed cheerfully. “I didn't expect you too. Now, I'll tell you.”

He took from my hands the little blue button from the first cat. He rubbed his fingers over it gently. “This was from Millie's jacket, I mean my wife, of course. She got this jacket for her eighth birthday. She lived in Vermont, you see, so getting a jacket was a big deal.” He replaced the button in the first cat, and then pulled the screw out of the pile in my palms. “This screw was from her first radio. That was her Christmas present the year she was fourteen. She loved listening to different bands and all sorts of music. She kept that radio until after we were married. At first almost every evening we would turn it on, push the couch out of way, and dance; just the two of us.”

He took the key from my hand, and held it up to the light. He chuckled softly. “When we got our first apartment; dear me was she bad at remembering things; she lost her key four times that first month. Finally I went to the store and had the man make me twenty keys to our front door, and then I placed them randomly around the house. I figured, that way, she was bound to find at least one of them in her search. We laughed about that for years.”

Next he grabbed the shoelace. The edge was frayed, but he smiled when he saw it. “This was part of the lace off of her ice skates. She ice skated as a child, but I had never been before. It was on a natural lake, and as I got more confident I skated farther from the bank. I guess I went too far, because I hit some weak ice and plunged right into the water. Millie and our friends scrambled over to me and I got out all right. When we got back to the lodge people asked if I was okay, and Millie just laughed and responded, “He was skating on thin ice- that's all I can say.” That was a joke in our house for many years.”

Slowly, piece by piece, he told me the story behind each article. A ticket to a theater from their weekend trip to Duluth; a piece of yarn from their favorite quilt; a scrap of a newspaper article on their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Finally, all the memories were back safely inside the cats.

“There were only sixteen items, though. What is in the seventeenth cat?” I asked. Larry smiled warmly, and flipped the last cat over. It was empty.

“This,” he said. “Is for all the memories still yet to be. Because, you see, the importance is not in the things, but in the life behind the things. When Millie was dying, she made me promise that I wouldn't stop living and making new memories. That's the real lesson here, darling.”

-----

Mr. Larry has long since passed away. My brother and I grew up, and moved. I don't know what ever happened to those seventeen cats in Larry's basement. But I know that I'll never forget to treasure the moments, and the little memories. Because in the end, those end up being what really matters.

I Think of Your Heart

I'm told of the world's beauty.

The Eiffel Tower's lights,
New York City at night.

The grass of faraway lands, 
The beaches filled with sand.

China's streets filled cars,
And the majesty of the stars.

All this is wonderful,
I'm sure.

But for my part,
When I think of beauty,

I think of your heart. 

The House That Friendship Built

// The House That Friendship Built \\

it all started long ago

we knew

with a look and a smile

we would be friends

we laid out plans

and collected supplies

giggling over little details

our hearts were tied

a foundation of trust

a wall of similarity

a ceiling of love

and furnished with memories

memories of play dates,

tears and hugs

countless laughs

promises

we lived in that house

for so many years

we forgot it needed care

one day at a time,

the cobwebs snuck in

the corners went unswept

and our old couch grew dusty

we were still together

though not as much

we forgot to greet in the halls

and hug a lot

until one day you just moved out

my friend

i looked around

and opened my eyes to the empty rooms

i saw the peeling paint

and the burnt out light bulbs

i saw the dirty rugs

and the empty envelopes

i cried

for i missed you

but i admitted you weren't coming back

locked up and walked away

i still saw you

but it wasn't the same

i wondered why i didn't see it coming

you've built many new houses

with lots of new friends

and i will too

but i will never, ever forget you

Bigger Than The Problems

The world is a mess.

So many people, since the very beginning, have had terrible lives.  Have lost loved ones.  Have experienced heartbreak.  Have been angry, and hurt, and wanted to die.  Been hurt by our fellow humans, no better than we are.

As you should know, the world was turned upside down with a serious terrorist attack in Paris this past weekend.  The same day several other countries also experienced national tragedies.  Millions upon millions of refugees are fleeing for their lives with absolutely no possessions or security.  Death in the south, closed borders and freezing cold in the North.  Trapped between ISIS and scrambling government leaders wanting them out.  Children in my own county sit in foster care with no family or love.  Orphans live homeless on streets all over the world.

And the internet is worried about the color of coffee cups and minimum wage.

It can be so hard for me to look at the world.  I feel a knot in the pit of my stomach; my heart physically aches.  There is so much pain in the world.  And I can't fix it.

I'm a fixer.  I want to handle the situation, smooth everything out, and keep everyone from getting hurt.  But I can't.  I can't keep other people's relationships together.  I can't comfort every child, or heal every broken heart.  I can't feed every starving, cold parent.  I can't.  But I know someone who can.

I was thinking about the Bible accounts of Christ feeding thousands of people.  (John 6:1-14)  There were 5,000 men, not including women or children.  If you assume there were as many woman and children as men, that is a minimum of 10,000 people.  That is a lot of people.  Think of a place where you know about how many people are there.  At my church on a typical Sunday there are 120 people.  That means the crowd that Christ fed was over 83 times that size.  That is crazy!

Take a minute and actually imagine standing in the middle of that crowd.  You are lost in the middle of thousands of people.  You hear babies crying and mothers comforting children complaining of hunger.  Men start grumbling about how they are supposed to get food so far out in the middle of nowhere.  Then you look down at your hands and see your lunch: a couple loaves of bread and some fish.  You look up helplessly.  There are so many hungry people; and you might have enough to share with one other person, but who do you offer it to?  How could you possibly make a difference with these thousands of people?  But, despite the odds, you decide to try anyway.  You zigzag and push your way to the front of the crowd, calling the attention of the disciples.  You hold up your small basket and ask that it be shown to Jesus.  He should know what to do with it.  He smiles warmly at you, draws the attention of the crowd, and prays over your meal.  You step back and mingle back with the crowd.  The disciples might eat a little, at least.  But instead, before long, the man in front of you hands you a loaf and part of a fish.  You take it in shock, tear the loaf in half, and pass it to the person beside you.  Later, after most everyone has left, you look and see baskets, including yours, filled over with pieces of bread and fish.

This is a true account, and this actually happened to a boy probably younger than most of us.  It was a miracle; not humanly possible.  But because one boy knew he couldn't do anything on his own, and went to Christ, 10,000 people were fed that day. 

I can get overwhelmed with the problems of the world.  There is too much pain.  Too much hurt.  Too many problems.  I can't solve them.  I'm sitting in a crowd with one load of bread surrounded by millions of hungry people.  But I have to take it to the One who can do something.  The One who isn't intimated by sin and pain.  The One that overcame all of this.  The One that can comfort every child, and heal every broken heart.  I don't need to know how God will solve the problem.  I just need to give my all to Him.  The boy didn't perform the miracle.  And Jesus would have brought Glory to God some other way if that boy hadn't stood up.  But he did.  And he spent his time and gave his possessions for Christ's use. 

And what a pleasure it is to serve Jesus Christ.

~Jessica Joy

Contrast

A flash of color,

A gray sky.

A twirl,

A tear.

A childish giggle,

A choking sob.

A victor,

A fighter.

A heart ne'er broken,

A heart that healed.

A foot ne'er stumbled,

Legs that stood up again.

Unrealistic dreams,

Goals within reach.

Childhood friends,

Lifelong companions.

The whole world,

Or having a place in it.

The lover,

The forgiver.

The one who never failed.

The one who survived and stood back up.

Which do you think you are? 

Who would you rather be?

I seem to be transitioning into a "mostly-poetry" blog.  I've got some other posts planned, but what is your opinion of all the poems.  Yay or Nay?

-J. 

 

What You Are to Me {A Poem}

You are autumn to me, my dear.

The wind in the trees,

The color in the leaves,

You are autumn to me, my dear.

You are winter to me, my love.

The bright Christmas lights,

The shadow of the night,

You are winter to me, my love.

You are spring to me, my friend.

You are new beginings,

Fresh flowers blooming,

You are spring to me, my friend.

You are summer to me, my darling.

The clear, starry sky,

The want to fly,

You are summer to me, my darling.

You are all these things,

The song I must sing,

That is what you are to me.

Dear "Perfect" Me [A Letter To My Other Self]

 
Dear "Perfect" Me,

     I know you think you are living the high life.  You got a boyfriend, and a best friend that lives next door; you go to school and live so close to town that you can ride your bike.  You have a group of friends you take to the mall, an Iphone, and a walk-in closet filled with the newest fashions.  You'd probably sneer if you saw me in my last-year's-trend clothes and dirty sneakers.  While you're posting pictures to Instagram of your prom date, I'm at home taking pictures of a dying rose because I can use it in a blog post.  You'd laugh at me giggling with my sister about that one 12-year-old that flirted with me, when you have boys looking at you all the time.  You'd want to gasp in horror at my nail-polish-covered cracked phone case and my lumpy, old comforter that I refuse to throw away.  You don't know what it feels like to sit alone at lunch, or to be the last one picked for any sport.  You'd have a fit about my fast-food-wrapper-filled car, with missing knobs and only one working window.  You never have to worry about hiding your tears from the world.

But, despite all this, I know I got the better end of the deal.

Because, you see, you don't realize how hard your heart will break when your boyfriend leaves.  You don't realize how much you are going to regret what you gave him.  You won't know how happy I'll be on my wedding day knowing I saved my heart and love-filled-glances for my husband.  As tough as homeschooling can be, I know I won't have the same spiritual struggles and temptations that you go through.  Living close to town is pretty cool, but not as cool as being able to race across open land and explore woods.  You may think that you have a better relationship with your best friends, but I know who my true friends are.  The hugs are a lot tighter, the laughs a lot deeper and the smiles a lot sweeter when a love stands the test of time and distance.  A lot of clothes and expensive stuff is nice, but closet space is a small price to pay for a relationship with siblings.  My sneakers might be dirty, but they tell a story of everywhere I've been.  I know it feels good when boys look at you, but that isn't the kind of attention you want, darling.  You don't know what it feels like to be depressed and lonely, but you also don't know what it is like to have your wall covered in "I love Jessica" notes from 8-year-olds.  You don't know what it feels like to be the worst at soccer, but you also don't know what it is like to be the first-choice-toddler-watcher at church.  You've never sat alone, but you've never struck up a conversation with someone who needed a friend.  You don't know what it is like to drive a hand-me-down car, or how much fun it is driving that car across-country or singing to the radio.  You don't know pain, but you don't know victory.  You don't know the joy of spinning words into poems, or the fun of always having a little sister tag along.  You don't know the excitement of dropping coins into a pasta jar saving for a dream trip, or the smiles that Bible verses on sticky-notes produce.

So you see, dear, you really don't have that much.  Your hair will always curl, and your handwriting is perfect, but you miss a lot of little joys along the way.  It's the rough spots and the little things that grow us, not our possessions.

In the end, I'm so thankful I get to me instead of you.

Love, the Real Jessica Joy.

5 Habits To Adopt

 

   There are a lot of big things we need to do; eat healthy, finish school, act like a respectable human in public, etc.  However, there are some little things that are easier to start doing, and keep doing.  Here are some things that you can start learning to do today.

- Keep Track of Your Money
     This is something that I started doing early in 2015, and it has helped me a ton.  Recording how much money you bring in, and how much you spend not only allows you to know exactly how much money you have, but it also encourages smart spending.  It is a lot harder to spend $50 in one place if you know you have to subtract it when you get home.  My routine is super simple; I made a chart on Open Office Spreadsheet, I keep track of receipts, and then I fill in the date of the transaction, whether it was with my card or with cash, income or expense, what it was, how much money was exchanged, and then my totals.

- Collect Coins in a Jar
     If you buy things with cash a lot, you know how much change you can acquire in a short amount of time.  When recording my spendings, I round each purchase up to the next dollar, and then put the extra change in a jar.  In 6 months I've collected over $30 dollars in coins.  That's a lot for money you don't even realize you are putting away into savings.  This is a painless way to save without subtracting out of your records.

- Drink More Water
     Drinking water is something that almost all of us need to work on.  Water has so many benefits   and coffee, tea, energy drinks, Gatorade, etc, just can't compete with it.  If you have trouble wanting to drink water, slice some lemons, strawberries, limes, etc, and put them into your water.  You can also get a nice bottle, carry it around with you, and drink whenever you get bored or while you are working.

- Write Letters
     Nothing is better in the world than getting a letter in the mail from a friend.  You can write a full letter on a lined piece of paper, or, if you feel less ambitious, buy a pack of postcards or greeting cards and fill them out.  Even just a postcard is still a nice reminder that someone was thinking of you.

- Keep a Journal
     Journals are tough things to keep up with, but they are so worth it in the end.  I kept daily (like, literally I took it with me everywhere) journals as a 7-11 year old, and it is so cool (sometimes embarrassing) to have recorded what I did and how I thought.  For 2016 I'm doing a 5-Year Journal, which is basically a question a day, and you answer it for 5 years in a row.  It is really cool because all of your answers are on the same page, so you can see how your answers change over the years.  I'm DIYing one, but you can also buy them.

Do you already do any of these things?
Are there any other good habits that you've adopted? 
 

4 Ways to Make Your Blog Look More Professional

  Having a successful blog is a combination of a lot of components; good content, good pictures, and a good blog design.  While having good pictures and content is extremely important for keeping a good followers base, a good blog design is your very first impression to new visitors.  The design gives the reader a subconscious opinion of your blog before they've even started reading.  However, sometimes new, professional blog designs can be really intimating; especially with a hefty price tag.  So here are some ideas on some little things to do to make your blog look more professional, without coding.

     This is something that shouldn't be taken too far, but should be at the back of your mind as well.  Your blog should have the right balance of the same colors, without going overboard.  For example, you don't want your blog to have blue font, bright pink links, an orange title, etc.  But you also don't want everything to be all one color, either.  A good rule of thumb is to have two or three main colors that look good together.  For example, my blog colors right now are peach and light orange.  Alternating these colors makes the blog flow well to the eyes, without being overwhelming.

      This is big.  Oftentimes new bloggers, even myself, started out by playing with a lot of different fonts.  Not only do difficult-to-read fonts distract the reader from what you are trying to say, but they also force the reader to pour much more focus into reading, which is tiring and leads to an easy excuse for the reader to give up reading and move on.  Easy to read, classic fonts make the blog look sleek, professional, and it is much easier for the reader to get what you are saying at a glance.

        A floating title is when your title is on a white background without a frame, and the background is white as well.  This limits distractions and your title is the first thing your viewer sees.  Minimalism is big right now, and for good reason.  This is not to say that a header with pictures or a colored background is unprofessional, but having a simplistic design is popular right now and brings the design together.  You can make headers on the "Design" feature of both befunky.com and picmonkey.com.
(I recommend and use them both frequently, so if you have any questions/problems, shoot me a email.) 

       Labeling your pages simply and straight to the point not only makes your blog look more professional, it will be helpful to your readers.  Rather than having your email address way down on your sideline; having a "Contact Me" page right at the top will make it much easier for people to find out about you, your blog, and how to get to know you better.




   Well, there you have it.  What are some small things you do to improve your blog design?

Roman Play - Part 5

Last part!

Part 1 HERE

Part 2 HERE

Part 3 HERE

Part 4 HERE

 Characters: 

Madelyna – Nobleman Trilogy’s daughter

Peter – Nobleman Citrus' slave

Marcus – Madelyna's betrothed, a soldier

Proconsul Pompous – Government leader of the city

Army Commander

Harmony - Nobleman Citrus' slave girl

 

Scene 11:

The Guard Station; The night of the Ambush

Commander: [At the end of a briefing] Does everyone understand their positions? Good. Let's move! [To Peter and Madelyna standing nearby] Thank you both for approaching me about this. Hopefully this will go as smoothly and painlessly as possible. [Commander called away by guard]

Peter: [To Madelyna] Are you doing okay? Do you want me to take you home?

Madelyna: Are you kidding me? This is awesome! I don't want to miss anything!

[Peter laughs]

[Commander and soldiers surround Proconsul's house. Peter and Madelyna look on from nearby. Finally, whispering voices are heard through the night.

Voice #1: Shh! Quiet, fools.

Voice #2: Watch the road; I heard a horse drowned in one of those puddles.

Voice #3: Nonsense; stupid gossips story.

Voice #4: 'ould be true, doe. Not all those wives tales are false.

Voice #3: Tell me one that's true.

Voice #2: A wizard once told me...

Voice #1: If you all don't shut up, there will be more than one victim found on the morrow. Got it?

[Silence]

Good. Now on we go.

[Voices fade, until suddenly a loud crash is heard]

Voice #3: Curses, you beasts! The dead even heard that!

Voice #2: That isn't funny tonight, Curtis.

Voice #4: He didn't say the “almost dead.”

Voice #2: Although that applies too.

Voice #3: Wait, where is Mar... [Interrupted by the sound of a slap and muffled struggle]

Voice #1: [Hissing] No names, and if any of you so much as whimper I will slit your throat. Is that understood!?

[Silence, then the creak of the outer gate. After all slip through the gate, and it clangs shut again, the soldiers close the circle surrounding the block. Finally, the house is surrounded.]

Commander: [Nods to lieutenant]

Lieutenant: [Pauses, then yells] Now!

[Instantly every man in the platoon lights a torch. Shouts and curses can be heard from the men in the courtyard as they realized their entrapment.]

Commander: Make sure none of them get away! Guards, on alert!

Soldier #1: Sir, I need back up! Some are trying to climb the fence!

Soldier #2: Over here, two captured!

Proconsul: [Comes running sleepily from house; rubbing eyes] I say, I say, what is all this ruckus!

Soldier #3: Wait, wait! Commander, we have them cornered!

Proconsul: Will someone tell me what is happening? Why did you have to chose my house to have a party this late?

[More noise of chaos]

Proconsul: [To criminal running by] Say here, dear chap, how are you? Do you know what's going on?...

[Talking, noise; fads away...]

Scene 12:

After the criminals, including Marcus, are captured and being transported to prison.

Commander: Peter, Madelyna; the Proconsul and I wanted to come and personally thank you for your bravery in coming to us about this. You have done a great duty to your country. You truly are heroes.

Proconsul: You saved my life. I had no idea ruffians were plotting against me. How could I ever replay you?

[Madelyna and Peter look at each other; a silent agreement]

Peter: Well, I think we have an idea...

Scene 13:

Madelyna sits on hill overlooking the city; and Peter comes and sits beside her.

Madelyna: Oh, hey! Is it official?

Peter: See for yourself. [Grins; Hands over rolled up document]

Madelyna: [Scans and reads, before throwing paper aside and throwing her arms around Peter] Oh, Peter, that's magnificent! I'm so happy for you! We are now both free from slavery and betrothal. Oh my goodness, this is so exciting!

[Peter stands up; pulling Madelyna with him. Once Madelyna is standing, Peter kneels, still holding her hands.]

Peter: [Looking up at Madelyna] Madelyna Elisa, I love you. Will you marry me?

Madelyna: [Mouth open in surprise] Oh, Peter! [Silence for a second] What kind of question is that? Of course!! I love you, too.

Peter: Really, truly?

Madelyna: There is no one on earth I'd rather have than you.

[Peter stands, and they embrace.]

[Finis] (The end)

Roman Play - Part 4

Part 1: HERE

Part 2: HERE

Part 3: HERE

 Characters: 

Madelyna – Nobleman Trilogy’s daughter

Peter – Nobleman Citrus' slave

Marcus – Madelyna's betrothed, a soldier

Proconsul Pompous – Government leader of the city

Army Commander

Harmony - Nobleman Citrus' slave girl

 

Scene 9:

Behind the public baths; Madelyna and Peter lean against the wall, eating apples

Peter: I still can't believe your dad would blow up like that. Besides misjudging Marcus, he seems like a pretty level guy, at least compared to Citrus.

Madelyna: Did the beating hurt really bad?

Peter: [Shrugs] It's painful, but I heal quick at least. One of the older ones gets beat and they are out for a month. Probably why they can get away with more.

Madelyna: Thankfully, at least, my dad he let the escort-issue drop. Could you imagine if I had Mark trailing me all day? That'd be terrible! Meeting you would be so awkward.

Peter: Impossible, you mean. An escort can't keep his mouth shut; trust me. The whole town would know about us.

Madelyna: [Giggles] True. My dad still makes me tell him where I'm going, though. Thankfully we meet normal enough places.

[Both sit and eat in silence, until Madelyna groans and sits upright]

Madelyna: We have to do something, Peter. The assassination is in 3 days! We can't just let it go; and know that we didn't even try to stop it!

Peter: [Takes another bite] But you did try! Your dad just wouldn't listen.

Madelyna: But that's not enough! I wouldn't be able to live with myself if the Proconsul dies in two days time and I knew about it! [Thinks for a minute] Could we go straight to the capital house? Talk to a senator, or something?

Peter: Same problem as before; if your dad won't listen to you, why will a senator want to listen to us?

Madelyna: But, Peter, we have to try. If you don't want to, I'll go alone.

Peter: [Throw apple core aside and stands up] No way. If your gonna do something this crazy, I'm with you.

[Madelyna grins, and offers hands for Peter to pull her.]

[Exits]

Scene 10:

The Capital Building

Madelyna: [To Door Guard] Excuse me, excuse me sir, I have an urgent matter I need to discuss with someone close to the Proconsul. Is there someone here I can talk to?

Guard #1: You could; but there is a meeting going on right now, and it can't be disturbed.

Madelyna: When will the meeting be out?

Guard #1: [Shrugs] I don't know. They often go on into the night, though. I'd try again tomorrow.

Madelyna: [Turns away and frowns; talking to Peter] Tomorrow! That is only the day before! Is that enough time?

Peter: [To Guard] Where is your commander?

Guard #1: Commander Reed? He is back at the guard station on North. Why?

Peter: Thanks! [Grabs Madelyna's hand and they run to North street.]

Guard #2: Halt! This is private property of the military. Move along.

Peter: We need to speak to your commander.

Guard #2: You won't be speaking to anyone! Now, I said...

Commander: [Interrupting] Hold your peace, soldier. [To Peter and Madelyna] What be ye needing, young things?

Peter: My lord, we have some information that we think you should know, sir.

Commander: [Chuckling] I'd love to hear it. Come to my tent.

[All exit]