Old writing piece…

I completely forgot about this blog I made several years ago, even though I am not a blog type person I do enjoy posting things up from time to time.  Here is a scene I wrote out several years ago I found digging through some old files.. Enjoy!

It was 12 am, the effects of the coffee slowly seeping away letting gravity carry my eyes to a slumber less trance.  

I remember her when we first met.  So full of hopes and dreams, two young lovers ready to take on the world without ever looking back.

It was her heart that drove me, fueled me, resurrecting my soul from a life of passionless conformity.  I needed her by my side always, and she needed me, well she did once.

Years of life and love made our bond ever stronger until the day I realized that I lost her.  I still don’t remember when that was.  That’s the trouble with an enamored soul; you don’t see what can be right before your eyes.

The addiction that started eating my Melissa away had grown over time.  Death was not the black robed figure that so many have perceived him to be, no he was a syringe that violated her veins.

Six months ago, she shocked me with the news, she was pregnant.  For a moment there I saw a glimmer of light in those lifeless gray eyes.  For a moment, warmth of hope filled me.  But as quick as the light appeared, it vanished.

The fire that once fueled her soul was reduced to mere ash.  Everything I tried failed miserably, escaping rehabs, hiding her poison, leaving for days on end. Everything I tried just made her use more.

I knew what had to be done; it was either me or her addiction.  I stopped in front of the door that cool spring evening.  The smell of rejuvenation seems to be just around the corner.  It was everything I could do to fight off the tears.

With a deep breath of courage I entered the stagnant apartment.  Clutter was the common décor; it was the perfect addition to make the middle class seem poor.  I called her name, no answer.

The bedroom door moved and I heard choking noises in I darted to see what was the matter when…

“Sir, sir please wake up”  a hand touched my knee. That veil of fatigue cleared, my attention burst forth seeing a man and woman in white standing before me.

“Good afternoon, I am Dr Zimmerman.  Melissa is stable, she suffered a concussion from the convulsions but otherwise she is fine.   She is lucky you got to her as soon as you did or she would not have made it.“

A look of concern filled them both, I feared the worst.  “It is the baby, it’s a boy but he is three months premature, he is stable now but we did have to jump start his heart”  My legs gave out and I fell back in my chair, suddenly the brightness of the room and smell of sterility made me sick.

“It is going to be twenty four hours before we know for sure.  We are doing everything we can.”  His voice was so at ease it almost enraged me.  The nurse took my arm and we walked. “Come with me sir you can see Melissa now she is awake” As we walked down the hall she rubbed my back, it felt good, comforting.  She guided me into the room.

Melissa laid there she looked tired, her eyes filled with something indescribable, her body frail and once beautiful blonde hair almost looked a dulled gray.

I sat down and took her hand in mine and we both sobbed uncontrollably.  At that moment I knew what that indescribable look was in her eyes.  It was my Melissa, my love and life.  I stopped crying just long enough to say “we have a baby boy”.

She looked into my eyes, “I am so very sorry”.  It was all she could say.  I hugged her tight, “just don’t leave me again.

Recent Items..

Last night I did something I do many times during the week. I logged onto my computer and checked my numerous emails,  face book, and all the other items that tend to keep me informed about the outside world from within.  Then I scanned my recent items folder, you know the one in your start menu that shows you all the fifteen things you have been working on most recently.  There were pictures I have created and changed and documents I have written both for writing pleasure and business.  But there was one thing I didn’t see, it was the very thing I never thought I would lose sight of.  My ever-growing novel……

Sitting here looking at this screen of the informed I attempted to retrace my memory banks in hopes of knowing exactly where this file was, as I had moved it only a few months ago.  I had forgotten, for a split second my memory went blank and that document was lost.  I have always looked of  an ever-growing piece of writing whether it be story or thesis, to be a child nurtured and fed and given the strength to survive, never forgotten nor ever neglected.

I feel much like a bad parent, and I wonder where the passion has gone, there are so many distractions in life but that is an excuse that so many make.  The truth is this story has fallen into neglect because I did not take the time to give it the attention it needed.  That realization makes me question my passion, it makes me wonder and contemplate maybe this was not the book for me to write first, or maybe it is just simply not good enough. With my own standards more than societies.

Or Maybe this is just another one of those hurdles that writers go through when they hit a lull in their work.  Maybe when I find that place of complete solitude my bottomless pool of inspiration can truly be unleashed. For now I think it is time for me to go and make up for lost time, with a child I was just starting to get to know..

Many many a year ago when I was just a boy, I had this wonderful friend called AG Bear, he spoke in less than audible tones yet he would sit by my side and we would speak tales of pirates and monsters and lollipop mountains.  My father was the one who bought the bear and claimed him for his own, but every time my father wasnt looking I would sneak, sneak, sneak upstairs to his room and hid behind the bed.  I would look out to make sure no one was coming, and crawled in a more than rough army style to plunder my dear friend AG from his prison on the shelf in front of the closet. 

Then one day, I heard something strange, two voices, one high and one low.  Upon further inspection I noticed that AG Bear had a baby, it was a bear just like him but with gray fur and a bib.  I watched curious as they talked and grumbled aloud, smiling and laughing in that innocent sort of way I took them both to my room and played.  What fun we had that summer hunting monsters in the woods with sticks, playing army against alien invaders, or just sitting on the porch watching the storms blaze by.  Yes it was memorable indeed.

As as summer passed so seemed my time with the AG Bear family, for one day I went in and they were nowhere to be found, it is almost sad to admit that I cried that day.  I can still see the little boy sitting there fumbling his fingers and thumbs with his head down imagining AG Bear and AG Baby walking out into the sunset together.  Even more sadly was the fact the little boy never saw them again, although he spoke of him often.

Over twenty years had passed since that day and I still felt a slight tear in my chest and the loss of such wonderful boyhood friends.  But time had healed the wounds of the past and the stress of the adult reminded me who I was and how old I had become.  Then something happened, something wonderous and sweet, Christmas came and I was in for a treat, for there were presents under the parents tree with care and one had my name before I was even there.  When I arrived my dad handed me this gift and to my surprise it was………………………………..

Yes he is home again, my beloved friend AG, I am sure he has many tales to tell me of his adventures and if you wish I shall share some of them with all of you, I certianly dont think he would mind…. Thank you all for sharing this wonderful treat, and please dont hesitate to say hello, he may grumble and he may growl smile you see just cant be beat..


So I have been noticing people blogging more especially among the small group of people I know.  There has been several people who followed me wondering if I have completely severed myself from the blogging experience.  To my response, “No, I just had a blog attack and I needed some time to recoup..lol”  Actually time has gotten away from me more then I have wanted it too.  There have been issues in which I will refrain from getting into now.  But I am finding that there is light at the end of the tunnel for the job situation I am hoping anyway. 

I have done a couple freelance writing pieces for some local businesses and some computer work for those people who are at an accelerated age who do not understand this new aspect of technology.  I must say it is interesting to attempt to teach people who have no concept of what computers or programs are.

I am thinking among the positive lately, it is a good thing looking at the new year with a sense of rejuvenation and reinvention.  There have been times when this has been stated before and as quickly as it was said everything would slide back into the usual malaise.  But this year is different, I am about half way done my book which it will hopefully be done by march or april.  I am really anxious to send out a query letter in hopes of getting an agent.  I am finding more inventive ways to pay the bills which has added many more skills to my already long list of abilities.

Lately I have just been working on trying to find as much work as possible and writing my book.   I even took time off of my online writing with my illustrious partner and her dementia so I can focus on this story.  There is no way I can truly say how thankful I am for her support, she is just absolutely awesome.

My next endeavor once the money flow comes in more regularly is to build my own computer, hours of research has been done on this and countless tutorials have been looked at and read in preparation for this task.  I think if I get this right then there will never be an instance where a prefabricated computer will enter my house again.  The computer I want to build would be worth about 2000  to 2500 depending the company and mine will cost 825 clams.  You can’t beat that…

Well I am just letting you all know I am still here, and coming back to play on here spring will be coming upon us soon and there is allot that must be done.  So I will keep you all updated on my writing, gardening, and menagerie of other hobbies.  Talk to you soon…

I will be posting up pictures of the Christmas display from Longwood Gardens later on today, stay tuned..

Chrysanthemum Festival…

I know it has been forever since I have written on this thing and for that I am sorry I have just been way to busy looking for this and that in which I will update you all on later.  Here I want to spread a little beauty and give you a little peek on a beautiful flower display I went too a couple weeks ago at Longwood Gardens in Kennett Square, PA.

This tree is one Chrysanthemum plant that has been grown into a tree and manipulated to grow a thousand flowers a season formed into this beautiful dome.  Amazing!

This is the vision as you walk into the conservatory of the gardens, every bloom is another type of mum grown to dazzle the eye.  These displays are changed on a weekly basis.

This is on the otherside of the conservatory where the ball room is (which is at the far end) All those little white swirled mums I think are the best.. Thats going to be my project for next season… Actually they are all started right now in the basement..lol

This is a hybridized mum 100 different types on one plant.. Amazing. 

Giant inverted purple and white mums.. Awesome..

I hope you enjoyed these beautiful pictures as much as I enjoyed taking them.  I do also hope you can see why this place is so inspiring to me and this is only one small part of a vast temple of botanical beauty. Those of you whom are close by visit Longwood gardens in Pennsylvania it is a sight to be seen.  You may even see me there.  Christmas display is up now you will be seeing pictures of that soon enough…

  Thank you all for sharing in this wonderment.  I will most assurely be writing here again very soon.. Til then..


This is the novel I am working on.. Please take a look and tell me what you think.

Chapter 1

Standing out in the dead of night upon the cobblestone walk, these were the most memorable nights of all.  Waiting for my nefarious convoy made me wonder if my lack of ethics would curse me one day.  Before the mind started playing tricks of righteous, steady gallops of steed come marching from the mist.  The carriage was black, roughly built yet strong enough to carry items of bulk and weight.  When it stopped a man looked down and tipped his hat and smiled.  It was Rodney Jenkins merchant by day, grave robber by night.  “Good evening dear sir, I come bearing gifts” Rodney’s full face and brimming smile had a morbid way of misleading even the most suspicious fellow. 

As the large jovial man awkwardly fumbled out of the carriage I glanced up and down the street to make sure no one was privy to our actions.  “Come now Dr Hayden let’s get this cargo into your study”  In back of the carriage stood a large cask tightly sealed and solid, far too heavy for even two men of great strength can handle more less my medium build.  “What else does this cask contain Rodney?  This can’t be just a body.”  He looked at me and laughed with that innocence that sent shivers up my spine.  “No no Dr, I collected these remains last evening, they needed to be stored and preserved thus they wouldn’t spoil.” When Rodney popped the seal and opened the lid the smell was over powering, it wasn’t the smell of decay but that of sweet oak fermented. 

“What is this? It smells like Whiskey” He rolled up his sleeve and reached in, as he pulled back a head appeared.  “I told you Dr. He needed to be preserved.”  Harvesting the body out of the cask we carried the dripping wet heap of flesh into a hidden backdoor of Oxford University.  The room was crude but efficient; it held various items for examination.  “That will be thirty shillings dear doctor.”  Rodney held out his hand with a brimming smile, a steep price but one that would deem the demand of his troubles. With a nod the large man walked back to his carriage, closing the door I turned and looked closely at this corpse.  He was five foot two with perfect skin and a full head of hair.  “A perfect specimen, my students will most definitely be pleased.”  Rodney was always dependable about his deliveries, although he would do anything for currency, thus I shall stay away from the pubs for the next couple weeks.  Those who thirst for the drink will be getting much more than they bargained for.

As I prepared the body for dissection I carefully read through my anatomic notations refreshing my own mind in the ways of the body.  Drifting into the wee hours of the eve a dull ache started between the eyes which drove me to the office to lie upon the chesterfield for another lightly slumbered evening.  Dreams had a way of affecting even the most arrogant soul, visions of corpses and cadavers reigned supreme when the eyes closed and mind darkened.  This was my specialty, dealing with the dead, but never have my dreams invaded and induced fear as they have most recently. Many sweaty nights have followed me and I fear many more shall come.

The next morning I awoke listening to the miscellaneous steps of young men awaiting a most exciting discovery.  Fixing my mass of dark hair, cleaning the spectacles and straightening this brown drab suit I prepared myself for the enticing venture, for I will teach these lads the human body.  Pushing this laborious table from room to room gave me a quiver as if death himself were following me, something was happening, for I am no psychic but  intuition reared its ugly head and it is rarely wrong.

The moment I entered the room all the men rose to their feet, their exciting expressions were more than obvious.  “Good morning young lads” Settling the table so all could see the collective voices echoed through the room. “Good Morning Dr. Hayden” I turned and looked, all the young men sat in their white jackets with eager smiles. “Today we will be dissecting a body; I will show you every organ from retina to rectum.  Keep something in mind dear students, this is not to be looked at with humor nor is this for those who lack intestinal fortitude.  So if anyone here wishes to exit, now is the time.  If you leave then don’t come back, for if you cannot muster through this then there is no reason for you to be in this class.” 

I looked around the room testing them all with my eyes, waiting for one to stand and challenge my plea.  Turning approaching the body, grasping the sheet, “Now students I give you the human body.”  Dramatically pulling the sheet away there was a hushed awe among the students, who have all seen the naked form before but not displayed with such simplicity. There was a lingering smell of whiskey that intermingled with that of death.   

“Now taking your scalpel in hand make your first cut from shoulder to sternum on each side, to form a V shape.  Make the cut deep enough that your blade will glide against each rib until you come to the bottom of the sternum repeating on the other side.” 

The flesh was tough; the alcohol shrunk the skin making tears as the blade sliced through. “Now comes the challenge, this takes feel and finesse.  Cut straight down from the sternum to the top of the pelvis keeping in mind you have no bone to protect the organs. Cut too deep and you will perforate the bowel, there is no mistaking a slice in the bowel because it will emanate a putrid gas and leave any living patient more prone to infection in surgery.”  Pulling the skin back, nailing each corner to the table the acidic smell burst in an invisible wave of sweet stench.

Looking over the crowed of students there were faces of fascination and repulsion.  Those repulsed quickly shielded their fear when my eyes fell on them, I stifled a smile, and whispers started filling the room. With voices of wonder and horror the students attempted to wrap their eyes and minds around the example below for they saw the reality of what their text have taught them.

“Can anyone come down here and name for the class the array of organs that lay before you?”  The room went quiet, you could feel the tension build.  There were those like Charles Shaw and Maurice Miller who had their hands held high, they were my most eager and intelligent students in my class but lacked the heart to do for anyone but themselves.  Most of the students sat there trying to be faceless, but there was horror in all of their eyes. Looking over the vastness of the crowd was one whom sat unaffected by this vision of horror.

            “Aaron Morris, come down here.” He was the most quiet of my students, but contained an amazing curiosity without an ounce of fear.  This lanky boy trimmed and propped came to the table and looked at me with an emotionless stare, his eyes overshadowed by the darkness.  One by one he pointed out the organs using the perfect medical vernacular spoken with the tone that echoed well through the room.  I walked about looking at the faces of those under my care wondering how many will overcome their fears and take this profession on nurturing those who cannot heal themselves.

With this meaningless thought, the visions of my dreams came back to me, the bodies, horror, and writhing screams in the blinding darkness of the mind.  I did not understand what was coming too get me, it made one wonder if the past were catching up with me.  It was then a laugh was conveyed in an almost audible tone.  “A man of science cannot believe in such things” I whispered. 

“Excuse me sir?”  Aaron spoke as he handed me the pointer.  “Thank you very much Aaron splendid job.  Now I want everyone to come down here and take a closer look at this body.  Gather around here take a good look.”  All the students crowded close looking down pointing out the various corners and organs of this corpse.  Some were surprised by the size of the organs and how well they fit. Others were fascinated with the look of a severed cadaver.   Penetrating the crowd carrying a scalpel I quickly made a slice in the large and lower intestine their faces moved back.  “Stop” I said. “You will all be doctors soon; you must not only learn with your eyes and hands but also with your nose, take a smell of this perforated bowel.  This could mean life or death to a patient during surgery.  Learn it, remember it, and use it.  Do not be afraid no matter how horrifying it might be, too use your nose as a sign of caution.  You are all dismissed; there will be an exam on anatomy this Tuesday.  Good day students.”   Covering this mutilated body leaving it for the advanced students to study from I turned and was met by Aaron.

 “Excuse me sir, may I ask you something please?”  He looked on curiously.  “You may lad, what can I help you with.”  There was a pregnant pause that left me patiently waiting.  “Out of all the students with so many willing, why did you pick me?”  That was a question no student would dare ask, but that curious look in his eyes amused me.  “Follow me”

The boy watched as we walked down the empty halls, it was now my turn to lead with a extended pause.  “When a student raises their hand they don’t just want to be heard, they want all the other students and the professors to see how smart they are.  So it is not about answering the question more than it is gaining the attention.  When I ask a question, it is not my job to feed the egos of those who deem themselves smarter than others.  I am here to teach and make sure the students walk away with the knowledge I have provided, thus is why who is chosen is unpredictable.  I chose you because of your silence and you did well.”

“Hmm, I think understand” his face still looked perplexed which gave forth a quiet laugh.  “Listen lad, what you need to do is go back to your dormitory and study, the test is only four days away and there is much ground to cover, so go!”  He nodded and gave a slight smile.  “Have a good evening professor and thank you.”  It was one of those small things that made the day worth its weight; those simple moments watching a young mind grow.

            Taking the carriage through the Oxford streets gave a sigh of relief that I was in one of the less diseased cities in England.  The streets were clear as the wheels bumped along past many buildings and merchants whose sole purpose in life was to make any type of coin.  My abode lay on the north eastern side where many of the professors and educators lived amongst the upper crusted.  Sitting in that carriage looking up that long narrow staircase, that large looming house harbored nothing but silence.  The once joyful laughter left this world when my beloved ceased to be. It was upon entrance that I lit my darkened abode showing the simplicity of the bachelors life.  Passing by all the dark hallways and rooms, I came to rest in my library. Two stories of books that covered a amass of history from the ancient world to the prophesized ideals of tomorrow.  This was my sanctuary, and my life.  A book lay open of myth and legend, living in a land full of such nonsense one cannot help but read the fictional exploits of those who believed in large wolf like creatures or men with fangs.  These were books left by students and other professors who indulged in these stories in hopes that someday they would be real. 

Scientist can not be blamed for such curiosities as I am standing here right now with this in my hand.  It is most assuredly the mystery that binds us into believing such frivolous tales, men of science are suckers for legends and possibilities.

            There was a knock at the door, checking the sterling silver pocket watch my wife once gave me, made my brow furrow, not only from the reminder, but the time. Opening the door a young lad barely past adolescence, thin freckled with a checkered hat and suit stood before me.  “Good evening boy, do you realize the time? The sun has past the horizon, what do you here?”  The boy looked at me anxiously.  “My deepest apologies sir, this letter came and I was told it was of the utmost importance.”  Reaching in taking the last two bits from my pocket I took the letter and let the boy run off.  “To Dr. Thomas Hayden” The writing was exquisite it spoke of class, and those hairs started to twitch ever so slightly as I tore the paper away. 

            “Dear Dr Hayden,

My name is Mary Davenport I have been serving your father for many years.  Your father has fallen ill and I fear he may not make it more then another day or two.  He wishes you to come to London, there is something of great importance he must give you.  I realize how difficult this might be, please abide by his wishes; I have never seen him so determined…


Mary Davenport”

            My father, a man I have not seen in years.  It was not pride that drove him to wish my presence nor would it be an act of affection. It was believed by many he lost all hope and love when my mother passed on.  He wanted something from me, a book or file or access to some information from the university.  Being the most revered anthropologist in all of England and a master manipulator made him believe he was entitled anything through his whim.  It would be no surprise if his illness was a mere ploy to be in the same room. Turning I caught a glimpse of my wife’s picture, her eyes showed something not even a scientific mind could pass, compassion. 

With so many memories passing by I found myself packing directed by some strange force, maybe conscience or the simple act of possibility that illness had truly taken the one whose name I bore.  Carriages were always at beck and call for doctors as we were the denizens of the people for their constant well being.  With a wave of the arm I reached up calling down the next carriage a young man jumped down and helped me with my bags. “Good eve sir, where can I take you tonight?”  These drivers were dedicated to the city and its limits only a lesser man to believe this boy was any different, casually reaching into my pocket pulling out a pouch of change. 

“My boy, I must get to London immediately, there is a very rare case I have been called upon, I beg of your service.”  The boys hat just barely covered his eyes though watching them turn from left to right extended a small grin on this unshaven face.  “No problem sir, what part of London are you being called too?”  Passing the bag to him under a dark leather glove, “Primrose Hill and please hurry.” The horse galloped gallantly these were the trots of a common cab ride through the city of Oxford, it was only when the city lines were broached that the gallops increased into a hastened charge to London. 

© 2010 William C Stuckey

The Birth of an Ass..

I find it interesting how much someone can grow in a short amount of time when given the opportunity and has the open mind to do it.  I have learned several things in the past three years in which made me more confident as well as given me the pleasure of bringing out my inner asshole with happiness and glee.  You see I have found that being nice is not all it is cracked up to be.  They say nice guys finish last and that is true to a point, the way I see it nice guys finish last then get stepped on, crapped on and any other bodily function you can think of on.  Amazingly enough this is contrary to the way I have always tried to live my life.  We are taught always treat people with respect and kindness amd thus I have done that and where am I?  Definately not where I would have desired to be at the age of 32.

So I have let out this blissfully liberating alter ego that has been aching and dancing to be set free.  He is every contemptable thought, feeling and urge let out of the bag which has manifested collectively into one cohesive attitude.  Since I have adopted this little personality change I have seen so much in people that I had never seen before.  Why is it we see these things only as an aftermath? They say hindsight is 20/20 man I wish I had some foresight for once.lol

Anyway what I have realized is in the grand scheme of things people dont change unless something taps you on the head and makes you see things that you were never willing to see before.  For me thats saying it modestly, for me it was more like a kick by a two ton mule right between the eyes..   There are people we know who want to change but cant, and those who have changed whether for the better or worse.  Then you have so many who revert back to their old habits which holds them back from really expanding on their own lives.  I guess I have always been hopeful that those people I once cared about would have taken a step in the right direction in both my real and online life (which is almost non existant now).  But I think hope was the last bit of inner pleasentry I had left and it is now cracked and fractured to its core soon to fall and become another ancient ruin of life experience.

The asshole in me is very happy to be here to see the blissful rays of the sun.  He has abolished my white knight syndrome, he speaks his mind no matter how anyone feels about it.  He is not afraid to push the boundries of people who we consider friends to make sure they are good for both him and I.  He is not one to show his face in full to most because he still wants to keep the vision of “the nice guy” persona alive.  So he has buried himself deep into the sanctity of the soul providing an inner voice of truth.  And the occasional demonic, sadistic laugh when karma bites someone in the ass who deserves it.  Personally I like him, and those I know like him too..

The nice, kindhearted, sweet guy that once was never did anything for me and so he has been evicted left with someone blunt, somewhat blasphemous, silently sadistic, with an arrogence that even the most neferous demon below would be proud of… I truly could not ask for anything more.  I truly have to thank so many for waking this wonderous beast within..

Have any of you indulged in your inner ass?  We all have one, once you have come to the realization that it exists and use it to its full potential then you will see the wonderous light as well. You will learn to keep those around you that inspire and rid those who wither you…