Positive Vibes
Ron better known as Positive Vibes' writing is endless. His creativity exudes fantasy and wilds the imagination. His passion is driven by his one of a kind artwork and book cover illustrations. Prepare to be amused by his lyrical Genius and Gleeful wit.
I was born and raised in Detroit inheriting artistic abilities as well as being a fan of art from my parents. Every week my father would buy a stack of albums, bring them home and play them one after another. Without having a babysitter, my parents let me tag along to many concerts and movies. I quickly became a huge fan of music and films. I also had a passion for drawing. Making up pictures to draw or copying a picture to draw, it didn't matter as long as I had something to sketch with and a blank piece of paper I was happy. In school, part of my curriculum for english included creative writing where we were instructed to write stories. That was one of my favorite subjects at school! By this time, "Rapper's Delight" hit the airwaves and I was mesmerized! Afterwords, many more Hip Hop groups came out and that influenced me to try my hand at rapping. It came extremely easy to me! Eventually, I grew out of trying to be a rapper around the time when spoken word poetry became popular. I had put down drawing and rapping. Out of curiosity, I tried writing a poem just to see if I could do it. I didn't care for it much, so I wrote another one. I followed the "style" of other poets and was very unhappy with my poetry because it sounded like everyone else. A friend of mine brought to my attention the Bruce Lee quote of "becoming like water and being formless." And now, I feel art should be the same way! I fuse spoken word, story telling, Hip Hop, Rod Serling, Maya Angelou, Spike Lee, Quentin Tarantino and all of the other art I've been exposed to in my writings. I never follow any style. I never follow any rules. I am "formless."
Ronald Chaney
Another chance at LIFE
At 18 years old, he finally discovered REAL LOVE for a woman. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen other than the skyline and tropical sunshine that warmed their home in the glorious island of JAMAICA.
But being the victims of SYSTEMATIC SEPERATISM living in what looks like abandoned decrepit buildings, frustration was the birth of gang affiliation.
She lived about 50 feet from the street of his gang’s rivals.
But she was 9 months pregnant so his love overcame worries of his survival.
One night he headed to her house and saw the flashing lights of an ambulance. “This is it! She must be going into labor!”
As he approaches, he noticed police talking to her neighbor and seen that her front yard was yellow CAUTION taped up.
He jumped out of his car, ran towards her house and was restrained by the police.
They didn’t let him go any further and told him she was murdered and her and her baby is deceased.
He couldn’t fathom the thought of his girl and baby dying.
He couldn’t think about it without bursting out crying.
He spiraled into a deep depression and the only thing that kept him going was the thought of finding out who did it and killing them with his bare hands and looking them in the eye as they DIE!!!
He kept his ear to the street and was unable to hear anything. Everyone remained quiet and the murder went unsolved…
Three years had passed with him living in a state of hopelessness. Haunted by the death of his first love and unborn child. Living the laws of the brotherhood of his gang which is beginning to become less important to him. Feeling that his destiny is death or a lifetime spent in thee penitentiary…
One day he heard beautiful singing in CARIBBEAN FOLKLORE.
Religious songs sung by THE MISSIONARIES OF THE POOR.
Crowds gathered and a man began to preach.
Changing deadly habits for ANOTHER CHANCE AT LIFE is the message he so earnestly beseeched.
His words registered and made an enormous amount of sense.
Life had been too intense. It’s time for CHANGE. He was convinced.
After the man finished preaching, he came to him in tears.
He explained to the man all that he had been through, to make a long story short, HELL for 21 years.
The man was moved by his story and opened the doors of invitation to join the M.O.P. and their congregation.
He did just that and later felt compelled to get an education in the field of health care because people were in dire need of doctors, nurses and medication.
He encountered some difficulties grasping some aspects of his courses.
He set up a meeting with a tutor to help him through his struggles and continue to move forward.
He walked in and saw the seductive beauty of a woman so overwhelming it had put him in a trance!
He said, “GOT DAMN! MEH AH WOK OBA DEH SUH MEH HOOD BOUT JUMP OUT MEH PANTS!”
He was more than happy to learn that she was his tutor.
They began to work together, he started doing better and he loved to talk to her.
They started to date and emotions proceeded to elevate.
He had another chance at LIFE, another chance at LOVE and the power to redirect his fate.
A year later, they got a place together.
He was living with the woman he loved and doing positive things. It couldn’t get any better!
One night they had just made LOVE and laid naked in the bed together and talked.
She had deep rooted issues of her past that weren’t necessarily her fault.
She further explained how she too was in a gang that wasn’t far from his vicinity.
He said, “Oh shit, lemme grab me gun I’m sleepin’ wit deh bumba claat enemy!”
He started to laugh and she said, “Yeah, but they made me do something real WICKED.
They gave me an A.K. to shoot this pregnant girl. I did it and got away with it.”
HE STOPPED LAUGHING AND JUMPED OUT OF THE BED, RANSACKED HIS BELONGINGS, PULLED OUT AN OBITUARY AND SAID, “IS THIS THE ONE?!”
She said, “JESUS CHRIST! That’s her! Did you know her? Where did you get that from?
HIS HEART STARTED BEATING RAPIDLY! HIS INSIDES BEGAN TO SHAKE! HE BALLED UP HIS FISTS! He released his fists. HE BALLED UP HIS FISTS AGAIN! HE RAISED BOTH OF HIS FISTS AND SHOOK THEM AT THE SKY, CLOSED HIS EYES AND CRIED…
THEN HE DOVE ON TOP OF HER, WRAPPED HIS LEFT HAND AROUND HER NECK AND POUNDED HER FACE WITH HIS RIGHT!
SHE KEPT TRYING TO SAY SOMETHING. MAYBE PLEADING FOR HER LIFE. “BITCH YOU KILLED MY GIRL AND UNBORN CHILD! YOU’RE GONNA FUCKING DIE TONITE!!!”
And he killed her right then and there with his bare hands and looked her in the eyes as she died…
He began to live life on the run, but not for long. A sloppy crime of passion like that usually solves itself.
A couple of weeks later, he was detained by police and awaited his trial in jail.
Of course he was found guilty, but something came up in his trial that he didn’t expect.
He was charged with DOUBLE homicide because she was pregnant at the time of her death like his ex…
Another Chance At LIFE
She said the door to his soul had a “DO NOT DISTURB” sign written on it and as you peep through the window it appeared that no one was home but the thumping of a heartbeat was proof that there was indeed life.
During the last 3 years of their marriage she became increasingly frustrated with his detachment to the point where she eventually left.
He understood. She couldn’t find him. And neither could he…
In the divorce settlement she took the car, the house, the dog, the cat, the fly that didn’t die and a little gnat!
To the masses, he was considered as someone who was left with nothing, but to him, he was left with everything…. The World!!!
He packed up and moved from southern California to Seattle because the fact that it was law that a portion of capital improvement project funds is to be spent on artworks attracted him.
“Here’s a place where creativity is appreciated and the music of NIRVANA, PEARL JAM and Jimi to me is never dated.”
Moving there with hardly any money, no relatives and no place to stay was first step in the direction of the course of his metamorphosis.
Because traveling forward is the source of his self search and the earth was birthed for exploring it.
He found himself in Seattle sipping on an expresso macchiato in café in Belltown spellbound of this swell town as he settled himself down.
He got a job in a coffee house as a dishwasher to keep his head above water.
It was there that he met a waitress distraught over the recent crib death of her baby daughter.
After work they would they would go down to the SEE SOUND LOUNGE and enjoy food and music. Her soul was crying for help and he was attracted to it.
He had mercy for her even though her actions were expressions of frustrations and pain.
An outward lashing that pushed most people away when she was just a victim of mental strain.
He told her like many, he was trapped inside of himself. But he didn’t want his energy released until he had divine knowledge of it’s true purpose.
And during his searches his marriage ended, he still loved his ex wife but he left and respected her wish.
“She took all your stuff and your forgiving of this? What a witch!”
“What a nice euphemism for bitch!
I have no way to construe my decision of this except that love is of my being, my true religion a gift.”
She stripped him of light, he stripped her of DARKNESS and this rapidly developed into a relationship.
One day she was showing him around the state and he observed something written in spray paint that read “KURT COBAIN IS GOD.”
He began to think to himself, “This man bled his soul into his art, moved many who listened to him and now he is immortalized forever. That’s what I want to do. That’s what brought me here!”
He hadn’t picked up a guitar since his teenage years, but now he felt like it was time to put an end to this moratorium so the next day he went to the Guitar Emporium
and bought a Morgan, amp and plectrum, rushed home and began to play….
It was like the soul of every guitar player from Ace Frehley to B.B. to ZZ blessed and possessed him!
Filled with the spirits of Johnny Cash to SLASH, FRAMPTON to CLAPTON, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Carlos Santana, PRINCE, Lenny and Jimi and could even get smooth like George Benson, Norman Brown and Brian Hughes!
He took his music to the streets and people would throw money to his feet but he wouldn’t take it and would say, “If you ask me, art should be for free. Wouldn’t it be unjust to be charged to see a sunset at dusk?”
Then he’d gather up the money and give it to the homeless.
“My expressions are gifts to the universe. I love what I play because I play out of love.”
His girlfriend started to become jealous of his art saying that he loved it more than her. “I SHOULD PUT THAT DAMN GUITAR IN A CREMATORY!”
She started giving him a hard time at work screaming at him about paying too much attention to everything except her while she was supposed to be waiting tables and distracting him from doing his dishes.
They were both reprimanded and given one last warning about their conduct. The next step was termination.
Now she was even more upset! He, on the other hand, was excited because he thought to himself this would give him more time to play. But nevertheless she calmed down and things almost went back to normal.
A week later, he received a call from a number he didn’t recognize. “Hello?” It was the brother of his ex wife telling him she died. Victimized by breast cancer until it took her life. Right on the spot he broke down and cried.
Then he stopped……
All of a sudden he fell deep into a state of peace.
He picked up his guitar and played a beautiful melody that even put his girlfriend’s soul at ease!
“That was amazing! Did you make that up?”
“Yes.”
“Did I hear you crying a minute ago? What’s wrong?”
“I got a call from my ex wife’s brother. She died. And I just composed this song for her. I’m going back to California to play it at her funeral.”
HIS GIRLFRIEND WAS OUTRAGED!!! But she didn’t explode this time. Instead she held it in like a plugged up cannon trying to be fired.
She became eerily quiet as he packed his bags to get ready to go.
“Ok Love. My ticket is waiting for me at the airport. I’ll be back in four days. I’ll call you when I get there and call you everyday until I come back. I love you.”
He went for a kiss on the lips, but she turned her head so that it landed on her cheek. Just that quick, he left and for about an hour after he was gone she stared at the floor with a blank expression on her face…..
The Funeral…
His ex wife’s favorite color was pink. She had pink roses along the edges of the pews, a pink flower arrangement on the left and right side of her pink casket as her body laid inside of it wearing a pink dress.
Moans and cries echoed through the church. Her family received him with open arms. “Once in, never out. You will always be considered as family to us.”
The time in the program came to where people spoke about her. He got up with his guitar and said…
“At first, the news of her passing sent pain through my soul until I realized that in the living physical realm our souls are like butterflies giving life to cocoons and when we pass, they are free to travel the universe. This is for her. This is called…
“A Song For A Butterfly.”
He began to play and it was like the whole world had paused for that one moment just to hear his song. After he finished he sat down and he received a standing ovation!
After the funeral, phone numbers were exchanged, hugs and most of all love and the next day, he headed back to Seattle.
When he got back his girlfriend had made him dinner. It was warm and waiting for him soon as he arrived.
“It’s nice to see you.” She said in an almost robotic fashion.
“It’s nice to see you too. Smells good. You must’ve read my mind. I’m really hungry.”
He quickly wolfed down the food she had made and washed it down with the tall glass of juice she poured for him.
“Well, let me unpack.”
“No. Do it later. Why don’t you rest. You’ve been traveling I know you’re tired.”
“You’re right.”
He laid down, fell asleep for awhile, opened his eyes and saw a pillow coming down on his face! As she was suffocating him, which was an easy task for her due to the fact that she was much larger than he was in physical stature, she screamed out,
“YOU LOVE THAT BITCH SO MUCH THEN WHY DON’T YOU FUCKING JOIN HER THEN!!!”
He didn’t put up much of a fight. Five minutes later, he was dead…..
“OH MY GOD! WHAT DID I JUST DO???”
All of a sudden, she began to hear “A Song For A Butterfly.” She covered her ears, but she could still hear it playing. Over and over nonstop haunting her like a nightmare experienced by someone wide awake. Each note ripping at her soul like it was being attacked by a pack of wolves. She fell to her knees screaming with her hands over her ears!
“I can’t….What have I done? I can’t…..”
With the song still playing in her head, she washed about 8 Ambien sleeping pills down with some Absolut Vodka, grabbed the NIRVANA Nevermind cd, grabbed her car keys and headed for the garage. She got in her car, started it up and popped in the cd. She skipped to track number three and put her cd player on repeat track mode.
“Come as you are as you were as I wanted you to be.” She sung.
“What have I done? Oh God, what have I done? Please forgive me…….” She became extremely drowsy, struggling to keep “A Song For A Butterfly”from tormenting her she sung, “Memoria, memoria, memoria…….”
Those were her last words before she died in her car….
The second ring of the seventh circle of hell opened up and swallowed her soul as she became branches of the trees of the horrid forest…
“At least I don’t have to hear that song anymore….”
All of a sudden it started again!
“I don’t understand! His soul was sent to hell as well? Is he like the Norse hero Gunther, who played the lute with his toes as he laid dying in the snake pit in the legend of Siegfried after he was betrayed by Atilla The Hun?”
That was the furthest thing from the truth. Instead, he was walking along seven thousand feet high foot hills overlooking trees with beautiful fall colors, a river with deep blue water and a majestic sunset overhead playing his song and wondering where he was. At a distance, he saw the back of a woman’s head. His ex wife. She turned around and said,
“I’ve finally found you.”
“So have I……”
A Song For A Butterfly
I was born and raised in Detroit inheriting artistic abilities as well as being a fan of art from my parents. Every week my father would buy a stack of albums, bring them home and play them one after another. Without having a babysitter, my parents let me tag along to many concerts and movies. I quickly became a huge fan of music and films. I also had a passion for drawing. Making up pictures to draw or copying a picture to draw, it didn't matter as long as I had something to sketch with and a blank piece of paper I was happy. In school, part of my curriculum for english included creative writing where we were instructed to write stories. That was one of my favorite subjects at school! By this time, "Rapper's Delight" hit the airwaves and I was mesmerized! Afterwords, many more Hip Hop groups came out and that influenced me to try my hand at rapping. It came extremely easy to me! Eventually, I grew out of trying to be a rapper around the time when spoken word poetry became popular. I had put down drawing and rapping. Out of curiosity, I tried writing a poem just to see if I could do it. I didn't care for it much, so I wrote another one. I followed the "style" of other poets and was very unhappy with my poetry because it sounded like everyone else. A friend of mine brought to my attention the Bruce Lee quote of "becoming like water and being formless." And now, I feel art should be the same way! I fuse spoken word, story telling, Hip Hop, Rod Serling, Maya Angelou, Spike Lee, Quentin Tarantino and all of the other art I've been exposed to in my writings. I never follow any style. I never follow any rules. I am "formless."
Ronald Chaney
Another chance at LIFE
At 18 years old, he finally discovered REAL LOVE for a woman. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen other than the skyline and tropical sunshine that warmed their home in the glorious island of JAMAICA.
But being the victims of SYSTEMATIC SEPERATISM living in what looks like abandoned decrepit buildings, frustration was the birth of gang affiliation.
She lived about 50 feet from the street of his gang’s rivals.
But she was 9 months pregnant so his love overcame worries of his survival.
One night he headed to her house and saw the flashing lights of an ambulance. “This is it! She must be going into labor!”
As he approaches, he noticed police talking to her neighbor and seen that her front yard was yellow CAUTION taped up.
He jumped out of his car, ran towards her house and was restrained by the police.
They didn’t let him go any further and told him she was murdered and her and her baby is deceased.
He couldn’t fathom the thought of his girl and baby dying.
He couldn’t think about it without bursting out crying.
He spiraled into a deep depression and the only thing that kept him going was the thought of finding out who did it and killing them with his bare hands and looking them in the eye as they DIE!!!
He kept his ear to the street and was unable to hear anything. Everyone remained quiet and the murder went unsolved…
Three years had passed with him living in a state of hopelessness. Haunted by the death of his first love and unborn child. Living the laws of the brotherhood of his gang which is beginning to become less important to him. Feeling that his destiny is death or a lifetime spent in thee penitentiary…
One day he heard beautiful singing in CARIBBEAN FOLKLORE.
Religious songs sung by THE MISSIONARIES OF THE POOR.
Crowds gathered and a man began to preach.
Changing deadly habits for ANOTHER CHANCE AT LIFE is the message he so earnestly beseeched.
His words registered and made an enormous amount of sense.
Life had been too intense. It’s time for CHANGE. He was convinced.
After the man finished preaching, he came to him in tears.
He explained to the man all that he had been through, to make a long story short, HELL for 21 years.
The man was moved by his story and opened the doors of invitation to join the M.O.P. and their congregation.
He did just that and later felt compelled to get an education in the field of health care because people were in dire need of doctors, nurses and medication.
He encountered some difficulties grasping some aspects of his courses.
He set up a meeting with a tutor to help him through his struggles and continue to move forward.
He walked in and saw the seductive beauty of a woman so overwhelming it had put him in a trance!
He said, “GOT DAMN! MEH AH WOK OBA DEH SUH MEH HOOD BOUT JUMP OUT MEH PANTS!”
He was more than happy to learn that she was his tutor.
They began to work together, he started doing better and he loved to talk to her.
They started to date and emotions proceeded to elevate.
He had another chance at LIFE, another chance at LOVE and the power to redirect his fate.
A year later, they got a place together.
He was living with the woman he loved and doing positive things. It couldn’t get any better!
One night they had just made LOVE and laid naked in the bed together and talked.
She had deep rooted issues of her past that weren’t necessarily her fault.
She further explained how she too was in a gang that wasn’t far from his vicinity.
He said, “Oh shit, lemme grab me gun I’m sleepin’ wit deh bumba claat enemy!”
He started to laugh and she said, “Yeah, but they made me do something real WICKED.
They gave me an A.K. to shoot this pregnant girl. I did it and got away with it.”
HE STOPPED LAUGHING AND JUMPED OUT OF THE BED, RANSACKED HIS BELONGINGS, PULLED OUT AN OBITUARY AND SAID, “IS THIS THE ONE?!”
She said, “JESUS CHRIST! That’s her! Did you know her? Where did you get that from?
HIS HEART STARTED BEATING RAPIDLY! HIS INSIDES BEGAN TO SHAKE! HE BALLED UP HIS FISTS! He released his fists. HE BALLED UP HIS FISTS AGAIN! HE RAISED BOTH OF HIS FISTS AND SHOOK THEM AT THE SKY, CLOSED HIS EYES AND CRIED…
THEN HE DOVE ON TOP OF HER, WRAPPED HIS LEFT HAND AROUND HER NECK AND POUNDED HER FACE WITH HIS RIGHT!
SHE KEPT TRYING TO SAY SOMETHING. MAYBE PLEADING FOR HER LIFE. “BITCH YOU KILLED MY GIRL AND UNBORN CHILD! YOU’RE GONNA FUCKING DIE TONITE!!!”
And he killed her right then and there with his bare hands and looked her in the eyes as she died…
He began to live life on the run, but not for long. A sloppy crime of passion like that usually solves itself.
A couple of weeks later, he was detained by police and awaited his trial in jail.
Of course he was found guilty, but something came up in his trial that he didn’t expect.
He was charged with DOUBLE homicide because she was pregnant at the time of her death like his ex…
Another Chance At LIFE
She said the door to his soul had a “DO NOT DISTURB” sign written on it and as you peep through the window it appeared that no one was home but the thumping of a heartbeat was proof that there was indeed life.
During the last 3 years of their marriage she became increasingly frustrated with his detachment to the point where she eventually left.
He understood. She couldn’t find him. And neither could he…
In the divorce settlement she took the car, the house, the dog, the cat, the fly that didn’t die and a little gnat!
To the masses, he was considered as someone who was left with nothing, but to him, he was left with everything…. The World!!!
He packed up and moved from southern California to Seattle because the fact that it was law that a portion of capital improvement project funds is to be spent on artworks attracted him.
“Here’s a place where creativity is appreciated and the music of NIRVANA, PEARL JAM and Jimi to me is never dated.”
Moving there with hardly any money, no relatives and no place to stay was first step in the direction of the course of his metamorphosis.
Because traveling forward is the source of his self search and the earth was birthed for exploring it.
He found himself in Seattle sipping on an expresso macchiato in café in Belltown spellbound of this swell town as he settled himself down.
He got a job in a coffee house as a dishwasher to keep his head above water.
It was there that he met a waitress distraught over the recent crib death of her baby daughter.
After work they would they would go down to the SEE SOUND LOUNGE and enjoy food and music. Her soul was crying for help and he was attracted to it.
He had mercy for her even though her actions were expressions of frustrations and pain.
An outward lashing that pushed most people away when she was just a victim of mental strain.
He told her like many, he was trapped inside of himself. But he didn’t want his energy released until he had divine knowledge of it’s true purpose.
And during his searches his marriage ended, he still loved his ex wife but he left and respected her wish.
“She took all your stuff and your forgiving of this? What a witch!”
“What a nice euphemism for bitch!
I have no way to construe my decision of this except that love is of my being, my true religion a gift.”
She stripped him of light, he stripped her of DARKNESS and this rapidly developed into a relationship.
One day she was showing him around the state and he observed something written in spray paint that read “KURT COBAIN IS GOD.”
He began to think to himself, “This man bled his soul into his art, moved many who listened to him and now he is immortalized forever. That’s what I want to do. That’s what brought me here!”
He hadn’t picked up a guitar since his teenage years, but now he felt like it was time to put an end to this moratorium so the next day he went to the Guitar Emporium
and bought a Morgan, amp and plectrum, rushed home and began to play….
It was like the soul of every guitar player from Ace Frehley to B.B. to ZZ blessed and possessed him!
Filled with the spirits of Johnny Cash to SLASH, FRAMPTON to CLAPTON, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Carlos Santana, PRINCE, Lenny and Jimi and could even get smooth like George Benson, Norman Brown and Brian Hughes!
He took his music to the streets and people would throw money to his feet but he wouldn’t take it and would say, “If you ask me, art should be for free. Wouldn’t it be unjust to be charged to see a sunset at dusk?”
Then he’d gather up the money and give it to the homeless.
“My expressions are gifts to the universe. I love what I play because I play out of love.”
His girlfriend started to become jealous of his art saying that he loved it more than her. “I SHOULD PUT THAT DAMN GUITAR IN A CREMATORY!”
She started giving him a hard time at work screaming at him about paying too much attention to everything except her while she was supposed to be waiting tables and distracting him from doing his dishes.
They were both reprimanded and given one last warning about their conduct. The next step was termination.
Now she was even more upset! He, on the other hand, was excited because he thought to himself this would give him more time to play. But nevertheless she calmed down and things almost went back to normal.
A week later, he received a call from a number he didn’t recognize. “Hello?” It was the brother of his ex wife telling him she died. Victimized by breast cancer until it took her life. Right on the spot he broke down and cried.
Then he stopped……
All of a sudden he fell deep into a state of peace.
He picked up his guitar and played a beautiful melody that even put his girlfriend’s soul at ease!
“That was amazing! Did you make that up?”
“Yes.”
“Did I hear you crying a minute ago? What’s wrong?”
“I got a call from my ex wife’s brother. She died. And I just composed this song for her. I’m going back to California to play it at her funeral.”
HIS GIRLFRIEND WAS OUTRAGED!!! But she didn’t explode this time. Instead she held it in like a plugged up cannon trying to be fired.
She became eerily quiet as he packed his bags to get ready to go.
“Ok Love. My ticket is waiting for me at the airport. I’ll be back in four days. I’ll call you when I get there and call you everyday until I come back. I love you.”
He went for a kiss on the lips, but she turned her head so that it landed on her cheek. Just that quick, he left and for about an hour after he was gone she stared at the floor with a blank expression on her face…..
The Funeral…
His ex wife’s favorite color was pink. She had pink roses along the edges of the pews, a pink flower arrangement on the left and right side of her pink casket as her body laid inside of it wearing a pink dress.
Moans and cries echoed through the church. Her family received him with open arms. “Once in, never out. You will always be considered as family to us.”
The time in the program came to where people spoke about her. He got up with his guitar and said…
“At first, the news of her passing sent pain through my soul until I realized that in the living physical realm our souls are like butterflies giving life to cocoons and when we pass, they are free to travel the universe. This is for her. This is called…
“A Song For A Butterfly.”
He began to play and it was like the whole world had paused for that one moment just to hear his song. After he finished he sat down and he received a standing ovation!
After the funeral, phone numbers were exchanged, hugs and most of all love and the next day, he headed back to Seattle.
When he got back his girlfriend had made him dinner. It was warm and waiting for him soon as he arrived.
“It’s nice to see you.” She said in an almost robotic fashion.
“It’s nice to see you too. Smells good. You must’ve read my mind. I’m really hungry.”
He quickly wolfed down the food she had made and washed it down with the tall glass of juice she poured for him.
“Well, let me unpack.”
“No. Do it later. Why don’t you rest. You’ve been traveling I know you’re tired.”
“You’re right.”
He laid down, fell asleep for awhile, opened his eyes and saw a pillow coming down on his face! As she was suffocating him, which was an easy task for her due to the fact that she was much larger than he was in physical stature, she screamed out,
“YOU LOVE THAT BITCH SO MUCH THEN WHY DON’T YOU FUCKING JOIN HER THEN!!!”
He didn’t put up much of a fight. Five minutes later, he was dead…..
“OH MY GOD! WHAT DID I JUST DO???”
All of a sudden, she began to hear “A Song For A Butterfly.” She covered her ears, but she could still hear it playing. Over and over nonstop haunting her like a nightmare experienced by someone wide awake. Each note ripping at her soul like it was being attacked by a pack of wolves. She fell to her knees screaming with her hands over her ears!
“I can’t….What have I done? I can’t…..”
With the song still playing in her head, she washed about 8 Ambien sleeping pills down with some Absolut Vodka, grabbed the NIRVANA Nevermind cd, grabbed her car keys and headed for the garage. She got in her car, started it up and popped in the cd. She skipped to track number three and put her cd player on repeat track mode.
“Come as you are as you were as I wanted you to be.” She sung.
“What have I done? Oh God, what have I done? Please forgive me…….” She became extremely drowsy, struggling to keep “A Song For A Butterfly”from tormenting her she sung, “Memoria, memoria, memoria…….”
Those were her last words before she died in her car….
The second ring of the seventh circle of hell opened up and swallowed her soul as she became branches of the trees of the horrid forest…
“At least I don’t have to hear that song anymore….”
All of a sudden it started again!
“I don’t understand! His soul was sent to hell as well? Is he like the Norse hero Gunther, who played the lute with his toes as he laid dying in the snake pit in the legend of Siegfried after he was betrayed by Atilla The Hun?”
That was the furthest thing from the truth. Instead, he was walking along seven thousand feet high foot hills overlooking trees with beautiful fall colors, a river with deep blue water and a majestic sunset overhead playing his song and wondering where he was. At a distance, he saw the back of a woman’s head. His ex wife. She turned around and said,
“I’ve finally found you.”
“So have I……”
A Song For A Butterfly