Angela Raines Writing & More

As I sat down at the base of the tree, I took a deep breath and prepared to hear what the tree had to say. I leaned back against the trunk and then I heard the trees voice in my head. “Since you reacted the way you did last time, I have decided to just tell you this story.” “They're your stories, I'm willing to hear them however you wish to share.” I heard the tree take a deep breath and then in a quiet voice started the story. “She always arrived from the East. When I first saw her she was so young. There was a spring in her step and a smile in her eyes. The tune she hummed was sad but fun. The sun created pearls in her hair which was the color of autumn leaves. Her curls bounced with each step.” As the tree spoke I could see a young girl, maybe three years old walking toward me. I knew it was what the tree was seeing and I silently thanked him for allowing a least part of what he saw come through to me. The trees voice continued. “The grass barely noticed her ...

"If you are ready I shall tell what I have seen and heard over the years.” the tree said. “I am ready.” I leaned back against the trunk and closed my eyes ready to hear what the tree had to say. The tree sighed and then I saw a woman in my mind. She was covered in armor with sword in hand. As I took this all in I heard her voice and the story of her dance with death. It had been a fierce three days of battle. The field was covered with corpses, their body parts strewn out over the field like the broken shards of pottery they resembled. I had managed to stay alive until this last day when victory was no longer ours. Now, it was time for my own dance with death. Were the old stories true? Did one Dance with Death to decide whether you would go or stay, where you would reside? I fervently hoped so as I drew my last labored breath. The first day of fighting we were victorious in every engagement. The young warriors were ecstatic. They celebrated, cheered and drank t...

The Story Tree by Angela Raines I found the story tree not by accident, but by being called to where it stood. I was driving through my favorite park. It was a warm sunny day. The car window was down to cut the heat coming from the sun. I had taken a new route through and was about to take the turn out of the park when I heard a crying coming from my left. I slowed and tried to focus on where the sound came from. Unable to pinpoint the location I pulled into a parking lot and got out of the car. I stood listening. A few minutes later the sound came again. This time I heard a “please help”. The sound came from the left. I started moving in that direction-thinking maybe someone had fallen and was hurt or stuck. The many trails through the park were always busy. Occasionally someone would wander from the path, but it had been a long time since a situation where someone's life was threatened. Of course there was always a chance. That was the reason why I was foll...

Copywrite 2010 by Doris McCraw writing as Angela Raines All rights reserved Tumbleweed Some people would call me a plain old tumbleweed, but I am so much more than that. I am a Salsola tragus from the family of Amaranthaceae. I am very proud of my background. That’s why I have always wanted to show the rest of my family how special life and they could be. You see they’ve always felt that the only thing they needed to do was let the wind guide them through their life cycle. To them you were born, grow to maturity, then break off from your roots and sow your seed wherever the wind took you. When I let those around me know what I intended they laughed, called me a fool. They didn’t think I could control fate. “It is foolish to try to control where you land.” “Stop trying to show off, you aren’t better than any of the rest of us.” “Who do you think you are tempting fate like that, it will come to no good?” I constantly was hearing those words and so much more. Understand I was no ...

by Angela Raines “Beauty in a rose Fades as the sun rides lower. Time changes nothing.” As I read those words to my dear wife Sheila I hoped her favorite words would comfort her. Even as time and disease had ravaged her body, her mind and eyes held the beauty that had caught my attention so many years ago. Our granddaughter Alicia was standing close by. I know some of our friends who wonder about having one so young experience such things as her grandmothers upcoming demise. Since she had lost her parents when she was five, we felt that to understand how death was not always the end or bad, was a good thing. How do you explain to someone so young that to you their grand mother was the most wonderful, caring and beautiful person in the world? Yes, she was famous for her beauty. The world had clamored for more and more of her. Still she only had eyes for me and her family. Alicia might only remember her grandmother Sheila in the hospital. The hands that rested...

A short story by Angela Raines "How's the Little Parasite today?" Aunt Gertrude asked as she walked into the kitchen. I hated to be called a parasite. She constantly called me that. It was not my fault my parents got themselves killed. She took me in when no one else would. She never stopped telling me the story and making me feel less than a person. I was constantly hearing her say "You will do what I say. If it weren't for me you would be dead. You should be thankful instead of complaining about what little work I have you do." It was so bad that I heard those words in my sleep. Little Parasite, Little Parasite. My name was Charity. Why couldn't she just call me by my name? "Little Parasite, you better get this kitchen cleaned up. The floor is a mess." I looked at her and the next thing I knew she was swinging the birch switch again. "I told you not to look at me. I can't stand the site of you. Now get back to work." I dropped m...

1840 California Street by Angela Raines I was just a sapling when the Krieders' moved into the house on California street. Rolf had made his money back east and moved with the family to the arid air of Colorado. It seems their son Oliver didn't do well in New York. The hope was that the clean air would help him return to health. To see the family together made me wonder what was the glue? Rolf was a large blonde haired man with a fine beard. Grace was just a tall, but with dark hair that seemed to always be flying away. Their son Oliver was a small child with hazel eyes and brown hair. So many different looks and temperaments. The Christmas of 1881 was a year I don't think the Krieder's will ever forget. They had moved into the house that July and by December they felt that things were going well. So well in fact that Rolf decided to do something special for his family that year. I watched as Rolf went out to find the best tree for his family. He was gone almost the who...

Gina was so tired. She had been working six days a week just to keep the roof over their heads. Gilbert was not much help. Sure he made good money, but he gambled most of it away. There were many a day when she was ready to give up, divorce the bum and move out. But every time she started the proceedings something stopped her. Gina was not given to self reflection, but as the holidays were approaching, she wondered what she would do. If she left Gilbert then she and the children would have an even harder time. Gina knew what her friends would say, move out, get on with your life. Still Gilbert did pay for the house and when he was feeling guilty he would stop for a few days and then they would have steak instead of beans. What to do? What to do? Gina was so tired of asking that question. Finally one day she had enough. Gilbert came in later than usual and was smiling. That make Gina so angry she forgot her decision to never bring up the gambling. “And what are you smiling about?” Her t...

This story is the sole property of the author. It may not be copied or published without the permission of the author. This blog or blog address may be forwarded with this information included in the forwarding. October 31 by Angela Raines I know what you are thinking. How could she be so gullible? Well you see I got it from a random e-mail. It seemed so innocent. You simply swallowed this concoction and it would make all the warts go away. Yes, I have warts thanks to that stupid kid last Halloween. They are all over. Small tiny bothersome things. Yes, some are larger than the head of a pin, but not many. Some people even think I have a rash, but I know better. Yes, I was stupid to let him touch me. Still it was Halloween for goodness sakes. It's a special time. Children do so love all the candy and dressing up. It really was an accident. He was reaching for the candy I had prepared, you know how good my candy is, and in his rush he brushed my hand. The next thing I knew I was brea...

This story is the sole property of the author. It may not be copied or published without the permission of the author. This blog may be forwarded with the above information included in the forwarding. "Drink the tea dear." How many times had I heard those words. Drink the tea, drink the tea. I was so sick of hearing that. I can hear you saying, you sick? Well of course I was sick. Who wouldn't be if you were forced to drink twentycups of the noxious brew a day. I couldn't wait to get out of this prison. Oh you didn't know I was in prison. Well I am! Why? Well, all I did was kiss the boy. You know the rest of the story. You don't? Well I kissed the boy and his girlfriend got upset. Nothing major. Just upset, why would that put me in prison? Well, she pulled a knife and since I didn't want to be maimed or killed, you know I have my looks to consider, I broke her neck. You say that would be self defense. That is what I thought, but the judge said since she ha...