The Gold Medal

https://mytrendingstories.com/article/the-dating-profile-of-a-gold-medal/

Hello readers,

I am currently writing for the Trending Stories website that is linked above. I will be writing various articles there that I may post on here.  This is a test run to see if it’s working properly on the site.  I hope it is!

winner-1548239_1280

 

Name: Goldie

 

Age: Timeless

 

Ideal Partner:  Someone with ambition and loyalty.  Someone who loses like a winner.  Someone who shows up.

 

Ideal Date:  Hanging out in your bedroom.

 

My Biggest Life Question:  Am I worthy enough?

 

Favorite Quote:  “Everyone’s A Winner”

 

Contact me:

If: You’re a winner

At: The dollar store (next to the costume jewelry)

The Wood Stove

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I once had a fire in me that could not be contained. I knew no boundaries. I knew no limits. I knew only of energy that burned.

There were no rules. I could go anywhere. Through the mountains. Into the forest. Past the villages and under the leaves. I could spark interest in anything.

People talked and my flames became more vibrant from conversation. “Did you see the scarlet colors?” “Did you feel the warm glow?” I was a thing of dangerous beauty that I thought could only beam brighter.

But then one day I burned the earth. I wasn’t paying attention. I turned to radiate my astonishing brilliance, but the grass had already died. I fled to the trees to show them my passion, but they had already bent over backwards in ruins with dissatisfaction. I turned to the towns, to the cities, to the houses of my comfort, but they had crumbled gray, like an eraser.

I ran to the edge of the earth and straight for the ocean.

“You have nowhere else to go,” the waves taunted.

I turned around. A few miles away, stood one small cabin that I had previously overlooked. Cautiously. Carefully. Slowly I approached its window.

Inside the one room cabin, there was a wood stove, fat and dusty with age.

From outside I shouted, “I have burned everything. I have nowhere else to go.”

Immediately, the wood stove opened up its door.

“Thank God you’re here. I’ve been waiting for so long.”

 

The Phone

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 Disconnected

 

1:23 PM Cute Teacher: Hi Peter – I hope this is the right number. I wanted to say again, how nice it was to speak with you at the PTA meeting. I think, however, I’m going to pass on dinner until your daughter is no longer in my class.

 

 

1:23 PM: I understand completely. I hope I wasn’t too forward.

 

 

1:24 PM Cute Teacher: No, not at all. I’m concerned about your daughter though.

 

 

1:25 PM: What’s wrong?

 

 

1:25 PM Cute Teacher: She has been picking at her nails.

 

 

1:26 PM: LOL Most little kids pick at their nails.

 

 

1:26 PM Cute Teacher: No – She picks at them until all her fingers are bloody.

 

 

1:30 PM Cute Teacher: I know you’re going through a tough divorce, does she have anyone to talk to?

 

 

1:32 PM: There’s nothing to talk about.

 

_

 

2:46 PM 1-434-896-3389: Mom! I can’t believe it! I’m about to get on the plane, but I wanted to tell you before it hit Facebook: Jason proposed to me!!!

 

 

2:47 PM 1-434-896-3389: Ooops, I’m sorry! I think I texted the wrong #.

 

 

2:49 PM: You did, but congratulations!

 

 

2:50 PM 1-434-896-3389: Thanks!!!

 

 

2:51 PM: Don’t listen to what they tell you.  I’ve been married to my college sweetheart for 24 years. Best decision I ever made.

 

 

2:51 PM 1-434-896-3389: That’s so sweet!!! How do you guys do it?

 

 

3:04 PM: A lot of  divorced couples will tell you that marriage is just a lot of work. It ‘s always wonderful between my wife and I though. When you love someone that much, you never contemplate splitting up.

 

 

3:05PM 1-434-896-3389: Did you ever fight about the future?

 

 

3:10PM: Never. Love grows with family.

 

 

3:11PM 1-434-896-3389: I know what you mean. Our family will never be broken.

 

 

The Blue Blanket

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There once was a dark blue blanket that sat on the edge of a little girl’s bed. The blanket was so soft it felt as if a thousand kittens had died just for its existence. The little girl had begged for the blanket until finally her parents gave in.

As soon as the blanket was purchased, the little girl refused to let go of its comfort. Every day she carried the blanket to school, wrapping herself tightly while on the bus. She walked with the blanket. She played with the blanket. She even ate dinner with the blanket. At last, when she had retreated from life too much, her father threw the blanket into a basket and put it in front of the house for their annual yard sale. “It’s become a crutch and you’re not as strong because of it,” he answered when the little girl pleaded for him to reconsider.

The blanket was found by a childless couple who had been together for a very long time. It was folded neatly into a perfect square with a couple of threadbare pillows and a heating pad. The wife immediately took it out of the basket and with great exclamation declared that this would be her new blanket. It was large enough to cover her California king sized bed and hide the ugly orange comforter her husband had gotten her ten years prior.

She bought the blanket for only a dollar. “Why so little?” She asked the man behind the cash box. “Things that are too delicate rarely last,” he smiled.

But it was delicate because it was good, she thought. She dumped the blanket onto her bed and smoothed out its wrinkles. It covered every ugly blemish on the antique puff. Its fabric was like heaven to her fingers and she thought of how she could spend her mornings lounging in it with a cup of coffee and the paper.

But as soon as she pressed her palms against the softness, the fabric ripped. Not a wide rip, but a small one at the edges.

No one will notice, she thought to herself.

Her husband came home later that day and was surprised to see the blanket covering their bed. “It’s so soft,” he rubbed his fingers against the material. As he got into the bed later that night, he pulled the covers up to his chin and tucked the blanket neatly under his beard. Although not as warm as the comforter, there was something about the fabric that tickled him. He pulled the blanket closer to him and when his wife did not give up her portion, he pulled harder. The softness did not stretch.

Instantly another rip creaked at the edges.

All night the couple fought over the blanket until its material had so many tiny rips, they couldn’t possibly justify salvaging it.

“What do we do?” The husband looked down at the blanket.

Suddenly, the wife remembered the man from the yard sale. “We have to throw it out.” She said. “It was just too soft.”

http://blogs.wsj.com/atwork/2013/10/14/simon-says-toughen-up/

The Filing Cabinet

 

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There once was a filing cabinet so full, it barely had room to think. It kept important case files as well as business cards from every service under the sun. It kept rubber-bands and paper clips and stray hair ties and a pen without ink. It kept everything.

“What is that stale piece of clay hanging out of your drawers?” A pad of paper pointed and laughed.

Embarrassed, the filing cabinet looked down. “It’s a piece of chewing gum.”

“What’s a filing cabinet want with a piece of gum?” The paper taunted.

There, at the edge of all papers important, sat the piece of chewing gum, curled up and stuck in the same place it had been for months. Even if it wanted to go somewhere, it couldn’t. Though the gum had the imprints of something deeper than just sugar, it had been in too many sticky situations to feel comfortable. Just like the paper clips, the rubber-bands, and the papers, it had nestled its way into the heart of the filing cabinet.

“Everything has its place,” said the filing cabinet. “Nothing is lost that is saved.”

 

News story:

The Pace Maker

Hi guys,

Today I got a piece accepted into a medical journal!  It’s called The Pace Maker.  If you’re interested in reading it, just email me.

The Journal is by the American College of Chest Physicians.

The Tupperware Party

This story is a play on the popularity of personal essays.  It involves an eating disorder, a suburban party, and lots of plastic.

The Tupperware Party by Rebecca Lee