Mango Tree

School is starting up in two weeks and its about time I brush up on my writing. My aunt Serene, who is very convincing when it comes to persuading the girls in my family about watching new soap operas, proposed one entitled "Summer's Desire." Undoubtedly, it would not be surprising at all if my Aunt Sheila---who, has the soap-opera-watching stamina comparable to a hawk monitoring its prey--- has already caught herself up to the latest episode of the show. While my fiction writing skills have yet to be weaned, I want to take on this project before I take my creative writing class in the winter. The project at hand you ask?... To complete a serial style story based on a topic all soap operas thrive on, yes, you guessed it...YOUNG LOVE. I started this a bit ago but got lazy and didn't quite push through. Now, I have four months and story to compose. Preferably, I'll have one entry a week, but in full-time college enrollment terms that really means once every two weeks---or less! But nonetheless, I will finish it before the clock strikes 12 on January 1st, 2011.

Entry one....

Mango Tree

Summer Days are gone too soon

Shoot the moon, and miss completely

And now you're left to face the gloom
The empty room that once smelled sweetly
Of all the flowers you plucked if only
You knew the reason
Why you had to each be lonely
Was it just the season?

-Jones

There ought to be a caution sign, printed in BOLD and hung across the doorway into a person's heart. Standing picture frames of red-faced lovebirds sitting across alters, or standing arm in arm on my parents armoire had one flaw. You couldn't break apart the picture frame and look beneath the layers of photo paper or peal away the light-sensitive chemicals that kept the photo trussed and perfect. Every time I saw my father run his gnarly hands across those venerated picture frames, I could see that my grandparents' held a dream that resonated with his.

Ma was poaching eggs in the kitchen and I could detect the smell of red wine vinegar staining the air. I was making my final decisions on what to bring to my new apartment. About four or five suitcases later, i realized that packing light was not an option and this time, I would have to be okay with that. When all was set, we said our goodbyes and the musky fog that formed overnight seemed to envelop our rundown 1979 cadillac and push it off in a promising direction...

The culprit, and inspiration to this serial story...auntie Serene