“I am a woman but no angel.
Angels don’t exist,” she said.
Month: October 2018
Light The Dark
He drew me in. A moth to a flame.
Lit candles are beautiful.
Ingredients
An old cooking pot, soy wax flakes, essential oil, wicks, and repurposed, heat safe containers to ‘house’ the poured wax. I used thrifted silver sugar bowls and white washed tin. Sometimes, I use china tea cups. Tin cans add a Farmhouse or Industrial feel. A Tip- ”BAR KEEPERS FRIEND,’ a liquid, multi purpose, cook top polish, cleans and shines tarnished silver.
Soy candles are simple to make. Use a wax thermometer to gauge the pour temperature. You can’t mess this DIY up!
Follow the instructions on the wax box/bag. If you notice an uneven surface (after the candle dries), use a hair dryer to warm the wax and even out the surface. To remove wax from a container, place the candle in the freezer for a short period of time. It will easily pop out.
Supervise children and never leave the candle unattended. Monitor the burn time.
Stella
1962
Stella set the letter right side up. She didn’t care who read it. Leave them guessing. Besides, her leaving work was nobody’s business. Of course everybody suspected something.
She had banked holiday time. Perhaps she’d head south and work on her tan. Kitty, her friend in Orange County, had a small apartment. “Hop on a flight to Los Angeles,” she had said, “I’ll take you to a few parties, introduce you ’round town.”
Stella waited as Kitty paused to exhale, “My new man-” She could practically smell the smoke and see the ring.
“He’s an actor.”
Orange County was an option. To hell with Roy. He can hire a temp secretary. She didn’t give a hoot. Let him figure it out. Sunshine and the odd cocktail party might be a remedy for her blues.
Stella placed the dust cover on top of her typewriter and lifted her purse from the drawer. She loosened the scarf around her neck and draped it over her hair, knotting the ends. She glanced at her watch. If she hurried, she’d escape before the others arrived.
Stella: The Letter
The only sound in his office is the ticking of a clock on the wall. Stella stares at the overhead light. He is trapped like the dead fly positioned between the glass and bulb.
