White egret wading / Among the lush green mangrove / No cares or worries

Throughout Florida
Brush fires burning fiercely
Smoke hides our blue sky
And blankets the quiet beach
Yet I see beauty,
in the copper disk above
Obscured, yet so bold
Giving all a russet glow
The palms glow like new pennies
As does the calm gulf
Bathing in the copper rays
All has a mystical glow

Visitors and residents alike in Pinellas County have many leisure options. Downtown St. Petersburg is home to the famous Pier, the Vinoy Hotel, and many fine shops and restaurants in its Baywalk district. Situated on Florida’s west central coast on a peninsula, this large Tampa Bay county has its share of world-class beaches: Clearwater Beach, Fort Desoto, St. Pete Beach, and the list goes on. And if you’re a bicyclist like myself, Pinellas certainly caters to us.
Pinellas County, as well as many of its incorporated cities, has no shortage of parks. Lake Seminole Park is a county-owned park in Seminole. This city is located in the center of the county, attracting people from all reaches of the county. A two-mile loop nestled between palms and live oaks provides a safe haven for bicyclists and walkers at this park. Water fountains and benches serve as welcomed rest areas along the loop. There is also a one-mile loop within this larger paved loop, if one desires a shorter route. Lake Seminole has become my personal favorite biking spot every Saturday morning. When I’m finished riding, I can relax at one of many shaded pavilions by the lake.
Just recently I became aware of a fitness trail within one mile of my apartment. This trail is two and a half miles in length, and runs parallel to Interstate 275. Heading south from the trail’s starting point on Skyway Lane, one crosses two bridges that compose the Sunshine Skyway’s northern portion. This paved trail offers spectacular views of Tampa Bay, as well as many sandy beach areas for anglers to enjoy. The trail ends at the service road connecting the Skyway Bridge (I-275/US 19) to the North Fishing Pier, which is part of the Florida State Park system. One can take a short ride down this service road and into a rest area, which provides restrooms and vending machines. From the rest area, the pier is less than a quarter mile south. A two-dollar entry fee at the gate is required for bicyclists to enter the pier, which is a very popular fishing location. A few miles across the bay lies the South Fishing Pier, which is only accessable by motor vehicle. Bicycles are not permitted to cross the Skyway, but the North Pier is almost at the bridge’s midpoint. While here one can relax and enjoy the view of the surrounding bay, as well as the towering Skyway Bridge, from the North Fishing Pier.
Perhaps the favorite route of most bicyclists in Pinellas County is the nearly fifteen-year-old Pinellas Trail, which is thirty-four miles in length. The trail starts in the northern city of Tarpon Springs, and ends at US 19 in St. Petersburg, just a few miles north of the Skyway Bridge. Mile markers provide riders and pedestrians with valuable location information. The trail has many bridges over major roads and is patrolled routinely by rangers, providing a very safe riding experience. The Pinellas Trail website offers a detailed map in .pdf format, which one can print for her or his journey. Along the trail, there are many water fountains and rest areas. It runs through or close to several parks along its route, and one is never far from convenience stores or restaurants, should one decide to take a quick detour. A few businesses such as bike shops even provide direct access to the Pinellas Trail, thus allowing easy access for riders. The Pinellas Trail is a must-see for any bicycle enthusiast who is in the region.
Pinellas County is definitely a safe haven for those of us who enjoy bicycling. The three locations I’ve mentioned are just the beginning; I encourage visitor and resident bicyclists to explore the many local parks that are scattered throughout the county. And perhaps one day I will see you while riding in Pinellas.

For more information visit these sites:

Pinellas Trail: http://www.pinellascounty.org/trailgd/

Lake Seminole: http://www.pinellascounty.org/park/08_Seminole.htm

North and South Fishing Piers: http://www.floridastateparks.org/skyway/default.cfm

This week I have deleted my @DannyPhoenix Twitter account in order to consolidate and make life a little easier for me. I now use @AJ4DG (which is my amateur radio callsign) as my main account. I look forward to following other writers, radio fans, and others. Have a great weekend.

Dan
@AJ4DG

For years I have been a die-hard fan of XM Satellite Radio, which has been my exclusive choice for radio since 2004. The variety of music genres and the deep playlists put traditional FM radio stations to shame, in my opinion. Of course satellite radio comes with a price in the form of monthly subscription fees. The $12.95 base fee, plus $6.95 per additional radio monthly fee was a fair price for such an ample selection of music. But like many people during this recession, I have cut out some expenses, and my radio was one of them, as it is not a true necessity. My local public radio stations have been doing a fine job keeping me updated with traffic, as well as offering some unique music selections. And during my absence from satellite radio, I have been exploring another radio option: HD radio.

I purchased an AM/FM HD radio and iPod docking station at a local Radio Shack recently. HD, or High-Defination, allows FM broadcasters to offer upto three separate radio stations on each frequency. Stations offering HD always use their HD1 signal as a simulcast of their regular analog transmission. So whatever you hear on a standard FM broadcast is always heard on that station’s HD1 channel, only the sound quality is a few notches above the non-HD audio: static-free and near CD-quality. But, stations offering second and third HD channels (HD2 and HD3) air different programming than that of their main signal. For example, a station here in Tampa Bay, known as “107.3 The Eagle”, broadcasts their popular classic hits format over their standard FM and new HD1 channels. Their HD2 channel, on the other hand, is called “107.3 The Wave” and offers an adult alternative music format (“World Class Rock”, as they refer to it). In essense there are now two radio stations on 107.3 FM here. Other stations have added HD. Traditional jazz can be heard on the HD2 channel of 94.1 in Tampa. A local college now rents the HD2 signal belonging to 88.5 WMNF. Our country station offers a harder, more rocking version of its format on HD2, and also simulcasts its AM sports station via their HD3 channel. Our local NPR station, as well as many other public radio outlets, has an HD2 channel, which offers more news and talk programming than its FM/HD1 classical music counterpart. I have found several new radio stations hidden on our local FM spectrum, and there is no subscription fee required to enjoy these new broadcasts, many of which are commercial-free.

HD is not exclusive to the FM band. Several AM stations transmit in HD, giving them sound quality equal to that of FM stations. But unlike FM, an AM station can only have one HD channel, which always carries the same programming as its main signal. This could breathe new life into music stations on AM over the coming years, as HD allows them to be heard in stereo FM quality, crisp and free of any static. Our Radio Disney outlet, 1380 AM, is currently the only music station locally that offers HD on AM. Upon tuning in on my new radio, it sounds like a typical AM station, complete with static pops and mediocre audio. But a few seconds later the HD kicks in and suddenly it is transformed. The AM station sounds as if they switched to FM. Local news and sports stations on AM have HD signals as well, giving them immunity from severe static-producing thunderstorms that are so common here in Florida.

HD radio also offers a way for music fans to purchase new songs through a process called tagging. My particular radio displays the title and artist of the song being played on an FM HD channel. By pressing a button on the radio labeled “Tag”, the song information is stored in its memory, and can be transferred to my iPod when it is docked, allowing me to purchase the song on iTunes. This feature can be very useful to us iPod users who enjoy buying music. In addition to the current song, the display also shows the station’s call letters and other slogans, such as “Tampa Bay’s Classic Hits”, for example. Local radio is certainly evolving to new levels, thanks to HD technology.

I am finding HD radio to be a viable alternative to satellite radio and conventional radio. Additional formats and programming choices are being offered on the FM dial. Improved sound quality gives FM stations near CD-quality, while AM stations sound as crisp as their FM counterparts. Music tagging gives consumers an easier way to buy their favorite songs on iTunes. And best of all, there is no monthly fee required to receive HD broadcasts. Yes, local radio is alive and very well in 2009.

I logged onto Twitter Fridayevening to follow the weekly #FNWC chat. The topic of the week: the use of magic in writing. This topic fascinated me a great deal, especially since my latest work in progress (Water Nexus) contains some magical elements.

Water Nexus is based on a silver-like medallion with special magical properties, mainly the ability to open a portal to another dimension. My protagonist finds this medallion buried on a Florida beach while metal-detecting and notices “νερό”, the Greek word for “water”, stamped on it, along with dolphins. He ends up taking a friend’s boat into the Gulf that day for a relaxing afternoon when three dolphins appear, and the medallion suddenly radiates a blinding light as the character then finds himself offshore from a mystical island. This medallion, or water nexus, is one of several magical specimens from the island, and is actually one of four types (the other three being fire, earth and air medallions- each of those coins possessing the power to transport its possessor to its respective quadrant of the island). The section of the island visited in this story, called Dolphin Cove, is my “water element” village, with its large marina and tropical, leisurely waterfront. I will be releasing stories about the other three medallions and villages in the future, but for now my focus is Water Nexus and Dolphin Cove.

Over the past four years, I’ve studied several different spiritual paths, including earth-based religions. Many of these religions recognize four basic elements: earth, air, fire and water. Each element plays a part in spiritual rituals and beliefs, including working magick. I’ve adopted these elements as a major cornerstone to my latest project. In addition to the medallions, death and bodily injury do not exist on the island, because it exists outside the physical realm from which we come. Several of the islands residents were severely injured, or had terminal illnessness, only to find themselves totally revitalized upon their arrival to this mysterious place. The timeline of its residents spans the entire existance of the human race; the protagonist encounters Roman soldiers conversing with 18th Century aristocrats in the streets of Dolphin Cove, each character speaking his own language, yet every word is understood by all. There is an overwhelming sense of oneness and unity on the island, which renders human language and physical differences irrelevent, for the mind is at the forefront here.

Visitors to the island who return to the physical world are often transformed profoundly, as they bring their experience of unity back with them. A new appreciation for every person and an attitude of forgiveness radiates from the soul of the person who has experienced this magical dimension. He is able to live in peace in this world upon learning that the physical world is in fact an illusion of the mind, which is a belief in many spiritual practices throughout time. Although not magic in itself, I have woven this concept into the magic of this extraordinary island to bring forth an entertaining, yet inspirational, series of short stories designed to make one stop and think about each others’ similarities, rather than focusing on our differences. At this time only Part 1 of Water Nexus is online, but the ideas for Part 2 (and beyond) are being entered into Microsoft Word as they swarm inside my head, waiting to be birthed. I sincerely hope you enjoy what I have written thus far. And if you’re on Twitter, be sure to check out #FNWC chat Fridays from 9pm-mindnight Eastern US Time.

Danny Phoenix
-Twitter: @DannyPhoenix

Here’s something I wrote tonight just for fun. I haven’t written flash fiction in some time and thought I’d give it another try.
———————————————————————————————————————–

“I’m sick of this heat! I hate summer, I hate Florida!” Jay Woodson said as he keyed in a meter reading on his hand-held reader. “Six years of reading meters in this freaking heat. I’m about done!” He tossed the reader onto the front seat of his pick-up and sped to his second route as his wife attempted to reason with him on the phone.

“Honey, you love it here, and you know it. It sounds to me like you’re simply projecting your desire for a new career path onto circumstances and things outside of your mind. You blame the weather, your location, the people you work with. Jay, maybe you need a new direction. Or maybe you need to look at the good things in life, rather than the negative. Put your faith in God and ask Him what to do about this. Trust me, it works!”

“Becky, I love you, baby, but I can do this on my own. I’ll tough it out and find a new job once this recession eases up some.” He turned onto Caste Street and exited the truck to read the first meter. “Ahh, nothin’ like sweatin’ like a pig!”

“Jay, you always think you have all the answers, but you don’t. None of us do. Just step back in silence, relax, and pray. You have been very unhappy and miserable for the past year. I love you, sweetie, and I want to see you happy”, Beckey sobbed as Jay grunted and yelled.

“Stupid bushes! These people and their bushes around the meter boxes, I’m sick of it!”

“Jay, take a break, get some water, and…” She was cut off as Jay slammed his phone shut and stuffed it into his pocket.

“Ouch!!” he screamed as he realized the bush had thorns of some kind. With a quick tomahawk chop, he swiped down on the bush with his long screw driver. “To hell with this, I’m outta here!” He stormed back to his truck and squealed his tires down Castle Street towards the county park. Sweat poured down his face and arms as Jay cursed the heat and threw the thermostat onto MAX-HI.

A cloud of dust followed the white pick-up as it cruised down the dirt road into the park. I’ll just take a nice, long lunch and cool off, he thought. Jay brought the truck to rest under his usual large clump of palmettos by the lake and let it idle, the A/C on full blast. He closed his eyes and leaned his head onto the steering wheel. His anger was subsiding as exhaustion set in. “God help me, please! I’m tired of hating my job so much. I know I don’t talk to like I used to, but I am now. Please help me see things differently. Please, what do I need to do?” He sat in silence for about five minutes, letting the cold air conditioner nip at his face resting on the wheel. His five minutes of quiet contemplation faded into an unconscious dark void.

Jay succumbed to his exhaustion and entered a deep theta sleep as his work truck idled in the shade. All sense of time had been lost. What seemed like a few minutes to him actually turned out to be forty minutes. A loud, distinct voice woke Jay from his slumber.

“Jay Woodson, be grateful for all the good things in your life, of which there are several.”

He was jolted awake and looked around his truck, but nobody was around. Those words were etched into his brain as he pondered their source. As he tried to rationalize, the beeping of his phone grabbed his attention. Becky had sent him a text message, which said, “I just want you to be happy, honey. I love you and I thank God for you every moment. I’m so grateful for you.” Jay’s eyes filled up as the reality of those mysterious words hit him. At that moment he realized how much he cared for his wife, and how much he appreciates her. Thoughts about his job flooded his mind, only these were positive thoughts. He recalled how many of his friends recently lost their jobs, while he still was given his annual raise. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he enjoyed a renewed appreciation for his job and for life in general. He reached for his cell phone and pressed “call”.

“I’m sorry, baby. I love and appreciate you more than words can express. Nothing can ever change that, just remember that, Becky. I am so sorry. Thank you for being in my life, and for putting up with me.”

Jay made his way towards the exit to resume reading his route, this time with a peaceful attitude of appreciation. “Things are really not as bad as I made them out to be. Thank You, God.”

Water Nexus (Part 1)
——————
Roy Turner gawked open-mouthed at the artifact in his hand for ten minutes straight. His metal detector went balistic when he made the discovery thirty minutes prior. Buried under four feet of sand and shell, Roy unearthed the source of his detector’s maxed-out gauges: a mere 2-inch diameter metal medallion. But this medallion was apparently made of solid silver as far as he could surmise- and it appeared to be in sparkling mint condition much to his bewilderment. “In all my forty plus years of metal detecting, never have I encountered anything so mind-blowing”, Roy said to himself. Should he contact the historic museums in Tampa Bay for answers? Should he notify the Clearwater police? Puzzled, he examined his mysterious artifact more closely. A shiny teal-colored gem stone shaped like a dolphin was at the center of the coin. On the top was a word Roy recognized as Greek, but wasn’t sure what it meant: δελφίνι. Engraved around the edges of the medallion were tiny dolphins, and two palm trees on each side of the coin. The rear of the coin had an engraving of a building similar to the Acropolis, with mirroring dolphins appearing to be jumping towards it from each side. A larger inscription of “δελφίνι” along with “νερό” garnished the bottom. Roy recognized the second word as “water” in Greek. Scanning his early morning surroundings for activity, Roy stuffed the coin into his pouch, filled the hole he had dug, and hurried back to his condo.

Roy’s front door flew open with an unintentional crash as he made a bee-line for his book shelf in his study. “Hmmm, let’s see. Delta is the first letter, then epsilon, lambda, and, OH, here we go!” Roy said as he leafed through his Greek-English dictionary. The English word “dolphin” answered his question regarding the medallion’s inscription. But the real mystery now is exactly what is this coin, and where did it come from? And how the hell could it possibly look so brand-new after being buried in four feet of packed sand? Roy had a burning desire to get answers, and then the idea struck him like a slap across the back of his head: he’d take it to his longtime friend and retired Greek history professor Dr. Nick Stefanopoulos, better known as “Doc”, who owned a jewlery shop in Tarpon Springs. It had to be Greek, Roy thought. And if anyone could figure this one out, he was certain Nick wouldn’t let him down. Roy hopped into his Lincoln and headed to the sponge docks in Tarpon Springs.

“Roy, Roy, Roy, where exactly did you find this again, Chief?” Stefanopoulos inquired as he inspected the coin.

“Clearwater Beach, just north of the pier. Less than a hundred yards from my condo. It was buried pretty deep. I’m totally clueless as to what on Earth this thing is, and where it came from. Any ideas, Doc?”

“Well, it’s definately silver, but it is unlike any ancient Greek artifact I have ever seen. It appears quite modern in construction. Ancient coins were not perfectly circular in shape. A hoax, maybe? Or a Greek tourist lost it, perhaps. But this is solid silver and cannot possibly be a token or toy of any kind. You really got ME by the ass, Roy.” Dr. Stefanopoulos handed Roy his mysterious coin and shrugged.

Baffled, Roy shook his head and attempted not to let this mystery bother him too much. “Anyway, maybe today would be a good day to take the boat out to Anclote. You know, maybe this is a sign, Doc. Maybe I’m being told to get out and enjoy the water. Maybe I’ve been spending way too much time on land looking for buried treasure.”

“You know I give no credence to superstitions or signs, but hey, whatever you want, Chief. Feel free to take my boat. It’s right across the street at the marina. That way you don’t have to drive all the way back to Clearwater. I’d love to go with you, but I’m expecting three longtime customers to pick up engagement rings today.” He tossed the keys to Roy.

“Thanks, Doc, I appreciate that. Yeah, it’ll be nice to hit the water and do a little fishing and relaxing.” Roy waved to his friend as he exited the shop. He couldn’t help noticing such an unexplained strong desire to go out onto the open water. Roy shrugged it off and fired up the boat’s engines.

The fishing boat sputtered to a stop about a mile off the coast, where Roy dropped anchor. The gentle splashes from his wake was the only sound in the mid-day Florida air, except for an occasional seagull. “Ahh, this is more like it”, Roy said as he cracked open a cold can of iced tea. He reclined in his seat and switched on the battery-powered AM radio in the boat, listening to his favorite standards radio station at low volume. Occasionally a static burst would startle Roy. There shouldn’t be any thunderstorms causing static in March, Roy thought. There was no rain nor storms mentioned at all in the weather forecast, as is normal for that time of year. Roy sipped some tea and leaned back.

He must have dozed off for some time, because he was jolted out of his chair by the loudest static crash he had ever heard coming out of a radio. Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” was being overpowered by a series of static bursts, some of which were ear-piercing. Roy switched off the radio and stuffed it back into the utility box with some frustration. Reaching for his cell phone from his belt, Roy noticed it was vibrating; he had a text message. To his utter confusion, the screen read:

FOLLOW THE THREE DOLPHINS.

There was no sender name nor number with the text message. He immediately called Doc and asked him what he was drinking back at the shop, assuming he was the butt of some joke.

“Three dolphins? And no return phone number? What are YOU drinking there, Chief?” Doc laughed.

“You’re telling me that you know nothing about this? It’s 11:30 in the morning and I haven’t talked to anyone but you so far. Who else knows I’m even out here, the friggin’ seagulls?” Roy said with an air of concern in his voice. A long silence ensued.

“Chief, this must be some weird coincidence. A SPAM text or something similar in nature.”

“I do not believe in coincidences, Doc, you know that! And even spammers have some sort of return number or name, as far as I know. This has nothing! Somebody, somewhere is screwing with me, Doc. I’m bringing her in.” Roy slammed his phone closed as he started the engines of Doc’s fishing boat and pulled up the anchor. Just as Roy was about to hit the throttle, he was knocked onto the floor of the boat by a jolting impact against the hull. Something large had hit the boat and managed to dowse Roy’s face with water. Roy staggered to his feet on the rocking boat to behold three dolphins circling him, each one was taking turns flipping water towards him with their tails. At that moment his phone vibrated with another incoming message.

PLEASE FOLLOW THE DOLPHINS, MISTER TURNER.

Now the sender knows MY name, he thought. Shaking, he tried to reply, but his response would not go through. “Okay, what do want from me? I’ll follow!” With those words the dolphins swam side by side in front of the vessel as Roy took the controls. His phone signaled another message, and he opened it, hands shaking.

WE BID YOU NO HARM, MISTER TURNER. WE REQUEST YOUR ASSISTANCE. YOU HAVE SOMETHING THAT BELONGS TO US THAT YOU WERE DESTINED TO DISCOVER. YOU WILL GET YOUR ANSWERS IN ONLY A FEW SECONDS.

Roy fumbled in his pouch for the medallion and removed it. “Is this what you mean?” he yelled. As he was asking this question, the coin appeared to be shimmering. But before he could question this latest event, Roy was nearly blinded by the brightest white light he had ever seen. As he opened his eyes, the light receded after a few seconds and his jaw dropped at the sight before him. His boat was approaching a beautiful tropical marina he had never seen. A turqouise harbor surrounded the boat and he was approaching a series of elegant marble-looking docks. The village ahead of him consisted of a mixture of large Greco-Roman buildings in the background and smaller tropical bamboo hut-like structures closer to the snowy white beach. The entire village seemed to have a glowing white aura around every structure and palm tree. The two towering mountain peaks miles behind the city even had a glowing appearance. Both peaks were flat-topped and snow covered; a large castle-like building was perched atop the left mountain while Roy could not see anything but snow on the right peak. To his right the coastline curved parallel to the boat and looked to end at a rocky point punctuated by a tall yellow lighthouse, which threw off a beacon at least twice as impressive of any lighthouse Roy Turner had ever encountered. What is this place, he pondered. Am I still asleep and dreaming on Doc’s boat out in the Gulf? Roy ran his hands across the side of the boat, and then his face. I seem to be awake and aware, he thought. He flipped his cell open to call Doc, but “no signal” flashed upon the screen. “Hmm, I had four bars a minute ago”, he said. As he rest his hand on his forehead in confusion, the phone buzzed and vibrated in his other hand. “No signal” AND the new text message icon are lit up. “What the???”

PULL INTO #14 JUST AHEAD AND TO YOUR RIGHT. THEN WALK STRAIGHT DOWN THE DOCK UNTIL YOU COME TO THE DOLPHIN COFFEE SHOPPE. MEET ME INSIDE.

Playing this off as a lucid dream, Roy guided the boat into the slip marked with a large silver plaque with the Roman numeral “XIV” in blue near the end of the first pier. He secured the vessel to the dock and ascended the marble ladder onto the main pier. The marble felt very solid and real underneath his bare feet as he walked towards the beach holding his sandals. A smile brightened Roy’s face as he examined the lush tropical vegatation and bamboo huts that dotted this beautiful beach. Now this is what I call an awesome dream, he thought. As he set foot onto the cool white sand, he saw a wood sign on one of the three bamboo buildings that read “Dolphin Coffee House”.

“Roy Turner, you are not dreaming, brother. At least not how you would perceive dreaming”, a deep male voice said from the coffee house.

They can read my thoughts? Okay, if you can, what am I thinking? Roy held an image of of his own boat at home in his mind’s eye.

“It’s a lovely boat indeed, Mister Turner. It will serve you well here when you bring it with you on your next visit here.”

“Whoa, that’s a neat trick!” Roy yelled back, still believing none of this was really happening.

As Roy approached the entrance to the coffee shop, he was greated by a skinny, elderly gentleman with a white pony tail and wearing a teal robe with silver bands around the sleeve openings.

“Roy Turner, so good to see you, brother. I am Lord Bigsby. Welcome to Dolphin Cove”, the old man said as he shakes Roy’s hand.

“Are you like a wizard or something?” Roy asked with an expression of amusement.

“I’m glad you find this amusing. No, I am simply a spiritual advisor, you could say. An elder basically. I assist Dolphin Cove’s residents, new and old, permanant and transitory, in dealing with matters of the Spirit. You have been summoned here to assist as a liason between our worlds, Mr. Turner.”

“Whoa, wait a minute! Are you saying I am in some sort of wacked-out dimension? Am I dead? Enlighten me, please.” Roy’s smug demeanor began to give way to some fear as it became apparent he was not sleeping. “Okay, what’s going on here?” he asked as he pinched himself for at least the fortieth time in five minutes.

“You are very much alive, and are free to come and go back to your own time and place as you wish. You may return whenever you wish, as long as you possess your Water Nexus–the medallion, as you refer to it–the key to Dolphin Cove.”

“Free to come and go, am I? Seems to me I don’t have much of a choice in the matter as I see it.”

“Nobody made you follow those dolphins. Deep down you wanted to, and that is why you found that Water Nexus in the first place. Did you not notice your attraction to the water this morning, Mr. Turner? That desire was in your spirit, and the Nexus only assisted in bringing your true desires to your awareness. Come, have a seat.”

Roy sat on a very comfortable wicker-framed sofa against the wall of the coffee shop as Lord Bigsby signaled the dark-haired waitress behind the counter. Without any words being exchanged, she emerged from the counter with a cup of Turkish coffee and set it on the table in front of Roy.

“Oh, my favorite, thank you!”

“You’re welcome”, the waitress said with a cheerful smile as she returned to her seat behind the counter.

“How much do I owe you, miss?” Roy asked as he pulled out his wallet.

“Money is meaningless on this island, sir”, she replied.

Hmmm, okay, so everything is free here apparently, Roy thought.

“I know how much you enjoy your Turkish coffee, Mr. Turner. You always have since your days as a young man helping your father with his boat tours.” Bigsby said.

“You know about me already? Oh wait, I guess if you’re a mind reader….”

“I have no more ability to read thoughts than you do. You and most people in the physical realm of Earth choose to block off your abilities and gifts by cluttering your minds with a multitude of trivial thoughts–thoughts of judgement, worry, anxiety, hatred, regret, and so on. When I lived in your world, Mr. Turner, I was fortunate to escape from its “normal” mindset early enough in my adult life so I could live in true peace, knowing there is no requirment for buying into the world’s destructive thought patterns.”

“So you’re a real, live person like me then? Where did you come from? How long were you here?”

“I lived as a spiritual seeker and an outcast in the Seattle area for my ninety-three years of life. As for time, that is meaningless here. It was late 2002 in the world when I decided to make my final journey here. Your mind is not ready to accept all of the technicalities of time and space, but rest assured, such knowledge shall be revealed to you at the appropriate time while you’re back in your world.”

Roy’s head was already buzzing with all types of questions as he attempted to grasp what was happening on an intellectual level. “Mr. Bigsby–LORD Bigsby, I must know something. I must get back home and convince myself that I have not officially lost it. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll make my exit from Land-Of-Make-Believe.” He stood up and exited the coffee house, and headed to the pier.

“He’ll be back, Maria. He’ll be back”, Lord Bigby told the waitress with a confident smile. “This is all part of the plan; fear has taken over his mind and he feels compelled to prove wrong that which his eyes are now showing him.”

Roy freed the boat from the dock and fired up the outboards, spinning around and speeding toward the open waters. “Get me the hell outta here”, Roy said as he clenched the Nexus tightly. And in another blinding flash, Roy closed his eyes for a few seconds then opened them. As his pupils adjusted, he could make out the familiar site of Anclote Key and the coast of Tarpon Springs just ahead. “Ahh, this is more like it. Boy, what the hell did Doc put in this iced tea?” Roy tossed his half-full can of tea into the trash bin. He then reached for the radio and flipped it on. The same Frank Sinatra song that he heard prior to the static crashes was just ending. Then the announcer came on.

“11:32 on this lovely Friday morning in Tampa Bay. Nothing like Old Blue Eyes on your station of the stars….”

“Wait a minute, buddy, you played that song at least fifteen minutes ago!” Roy screamed at the radio. He grabbed his phone to call Doc. To his shock, the clock displayed “11:33″. It was only 11:30 when all that craziness with the dolphins happened, he recalled. Roy sped into the waters of Tarpon Springs and parked the boat at Doc’s slip. He ran into the jewlery shop and tossed the keys onto the glass display case.

“Hey there Chief, you’re not angry about those text messages still, are you?” Dr. Stefanopoulos asked.

“I gotta run home, Doc. I need some sleep or something. I’m really losing my marbles big time.” Roy replied as he ran out of the store as quickly as he had entered. The tires of his Red Lincoln Grand Marquis squealed as Roy punched the accelerator and set his course for Clearwater Beach.

Roy threw his shirt onto the floor and jumped straight into his bed as soon as he entered his condo. After five minutes of trying to still his racing mind, he managed to enter one of his meditative states, of which he had plenty of experience. Despite the confusion of the morning’s events, Roy drifted off relatively easily. It was as if his body and mind were begging him to get some rest. He entered a very deep, dreamless state of sleep.

The loud chiming of his doorbell caused Roy’s eyes to fly open in a momentary state of panic. He looked around his bedroom as he regained consciousness, then yelled towards the front hall, “Coming!” Fumbling to put on his t’shirt as he made his way towards the door, he glanced at the clock on his cable box: 4:07. Roy was out for four hours. Doc was standing on the opposite end of the peep whole. “Hey Doc, c’mon in”, Roy said as he opened the door. “Closed already, Doc?”

“Yes, one of my customers had to postpone his visit, so I decided to close at 3:30. It was dead besides my other two people picking up their rings,” Doc said. “And I am really worried about you, Chief. What transpired this morning that compelled you to return my keys and leave in such a frenzy? I know you, Roy. You don’t let something like spam messages get to you. Did anything else happen? You know you can talk to me, buddy”.

“Oh, three dolphins swam around the boat, splashing water at me. I think one of them bumped the boat. I dropped my drink, it startled me. I felt like I was at a friggin’ water park’s dolphin show or something.”

Roy thought for a moment as Doc laughed at his story. I’m feeling quite rested, and maybe Doc would like to go fishing, he thought as he fondled the coin in his pocket. Roy had already put the events that seemed to have occured earlier in the day behind him. Yet there was something amusing about the possibility that they really did occur, and that he may have a chance to take Doc with him in order to confirm his sanity–or insanity, whichever the case may be. “Hey, wanna take my boat out on the Gulf?”

“Actually that’s what I came to ask you, Chief. I think some time with the rod and reel will serve us well after today’s craziness.”

Roy fetched his tackle box and keys from the study and the two men headed towards the marina next door.

The small fishing boat’s single outboard engine propelled Doc and Roy along the Clearwater coast towards Sand Key. Roy fidgeted with the dolphin coin as he steered his boat just off the key’s shoreline. If this really happened, Bigsby, give me a sign, please, he thought. He glanced at his cell phone and then looked around the boat. Nothing. Maybe I am nuts. Only the roar of the boat’s engine could be heard as Roy watched the tiny wake extending back towards the shore. The Gulf was calm otherwise.

—To Be Continued—

Two years ago I started an online writing group called Serendipity Writers (on Google Groups). This group was created to provide a platform for writers to post inspirational short stories and poems, as well as read others’ work. Writers could comment and offer ideas and suggestions on each others’ works. I invite my readers to visit the group and let me know what you think. Feel free to give me your ideas, questions and comments about this group, and using Google Groups as a platform. Thank you. Have a great evening.

http://groups.google.com/group/serendipity-writers

I am quite active on Twitter, and I invite you to follow me. Check out twitter.com to register, if you’re not on the network already. I’m amazed at the number of writers and writing chats on Twitter. My Twitter ID is @AJ4DG
Have fun.

Well, it’s been well over a year since I have posted on EditRed. During that time I have not written much, except for my daily spiritual blog. It seemed I had an excuse everytime a friend or family member would ask me how my writing is coming along (“I’m too busy”, “I don’t know what to write”, “I thought about writing a story, but something came up). In my mind I’ve even re-lived my not so positive experiences with writing groups. Subconscious beliefs such as “I’m not good enough to be published” and “I feel out of place” have stiffled my creativity, or so it seemed.

Does this sound familiar? I believe we all have made excuses at one point. And we all harbor thoughts of fear (in the case of my writing, thoughts of inferiority) that can keep us from living our dream if we give credence to these ideas. I now realize this is not only unnecessary, but is also a waste of mental energy. Thoughts only have whatever power we choose to give them. Upon realizing this fact, we can choose: Okay, do I buy into these negative peceptions, or do I do what I love doing? Hmm, I think I’ll do what I love, which is writing. I’d much rather put all my time and energy into producing creative writing, rather than worrying about being judged by “superior” writers and publishers.

This mindset will get a person nowhere in this world. Do you love to write? Then do it, even if it’s blogging, or simply rambling about a story on paper that happens to come into your mind. Although I wasn’t aware of it when I was writing often, I had an inferiority complex, and believed others were “better” than me. Now I choose to view ALL of my fellow writers with admiration and respect; we are all doing what we love, whether we are best-selling authors, publishers, bloggers, aspiring writers, or writing hobbyists. Some people will criticize your work, while others will praise it–that’s how it works. Do not be afraid to get out there and pursue something like writing if that’s what your heart is telling you to do. And my heart is telling me to get back out there and free my creative mind that I have kept imprisoned by my old ideas for way too long.

I wrote this two years ago and thought it would be a wonderful way to launch my new blog. I hope you enjoy it.

Stormy

Towering, gray anvils
Marching in from the east,
Water, wind and fire,
The sky versus the earth

Blazing, pounding cannons.
Blazing, pounding cannons…

A few moments later
the earth claims victory,
nourished, refreshed and calm.
Blazing Sun has returned.

By: Danny Phoenix/2007