
Cindy Calder
Bio
From Charleston SC - "I am still learning." Michelangelo
Achievements (8)
Stories (342)
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The Enchanted Owl
The owl always came at night, when the moon filled the endlessness that floated in on the breeze and rippled through the tall trees. Its feathers nearly completely white except for the streaks of amber brown, it perched on the branch closest to her bedroom window and shrieked its eerie call, beckoning her from the solitude of her bed. Thus each night, Luna rose and walked on bare feet to the open window to search the barn owl’s piercing golden eyes, as if therein lay some deep-seated and powerful omen that would bring her fulfillment of desires for which she did yearn.
By Cindy Calder4 years ago in Fiction
White Roses
Poppy stood in the moonlight, her slender frame shivering at the unexpected cold of the late summer weather. Pulling her shawl a bit more tightly around her shoulders, she stared at the stone cottage before her, hidden from view where she stood behind the massive oak tree, its heavy branches masking her image. Her eyes filled with tears. How she longed to enter the cottage and see the people who resided therein, and how much she missed them. It had been nearly two years since she had seen her family. Still, she knew she could not go inside the cottage. No, she could never return home even though she longed to do so. Despite the fact that things were different for her now, and she had a home and a family who loved her, she could never return to her original homestead. If her mum and siblings knew the truth, for the rest of her life she would wear the shame of what she had done and the shame would carry over to her family. Poppy had done the forbidden: she had had a baby out of wedlock. It was best for her to keep her distance and that her family was none the wiser, no matter how much she missed them.
By Cindy Calder4 years ago in Fiction
The Magic Window
Sophie loved to explore unchartered territories whenever she had a day off from school, and today she was making her way through the sparse forest to find places she had yet to discover. Her best friend, Abby, had decided to ditch her in favor of going shopping with her Mom today, but Sophie much preferred trekking through the woods any day to picking out a new outfit in a crowded mall.
By Cindy Calder4 years ago in Fiction
Christmas Eve, 1910
The year was 1910, and it was a cold, bitter winter night. Arthur sat before the fire, rocking and smoking his pipe as he listened to the giggles of excitement that issued forth from the next room where eight of his ten children slept. The youngest two, twins, were already asleep in his and his wife’s bedroom. His wife, Anna, was with the other eight children, attempting, albeit unsuccessfully, to calm them so that he could begin his annual Santa Claus masquerade. He shook his head at the thought and laughed. Well, she certainly had her work cut out for her. All children grew excited with the joy and anticipation of Christmas Eve, and his were certainly no different. His wife might have to threaten the children within an inch of their lives to achieve such an endeavor.
By Cindy Calder4 years ago in Fiction
What's In a Name?
Shelby stood and stretched. It had been a productive day of painting, and she was more than ready for a break. However, before leaving the quaint seaside studio, she took one last glance at her most recent piece of work. Overall, she was pleased with the progression of the painting of enormous, blue hydrangeas that sat upon the table, so she cleaned her brushes and put away the multi-colored paint palette and paints she had used.
By Cindy Calder4 years ago in Fiction
Lavender & Merlot
There was a distinct and frosty chill in the late fall evening as Abigail made her way to the small Italian restaurant called La Pasta. The rustic, multi-colored leaves whispered in the breeze, blowing and scattering everywhere as her black heels clicked methodically with each step she took on the narrow sidewalk. Reaching up, she attempted to push back the loose wisps of russet-colored hair that flew about her face, but it was a futile endeavor. This evening, despite her best attempts to tame the thick, lustrous curls, her hair had a mind of its own, and there was no luck at hand with escaping the force of a wind that lent it new life. She mused to herself that she would likely look like Medusa once she arrived at her destination, but alas, it was what it was. Whomever she was meeting on this blind date would need to like her for what she was, including her wild, rebellious, and yes, scary hair. As the wind whipped about her legs, she wished she had had the foresight to take the taxi that she had considered in lieu of making the short walk to the restaurant. Perhaps if she had, she would not have looked like a mythological creature, waiting in the wings for her blind date’s arrival. Well, she hoped this date was made of sterner stuff and could endure the sight of her hair in disarray.
By Cindy Calder4 years ago in Fiction
The Lockbox
“To err is human; to forgive, divine.” – Alexander Pope The desire for revenge is a built-in facet of human nature, and science leads us to the conclusion that the capacity for forgiveness, like the desire for revenge, may be yet another facet of human nature. Forgiveness and the lack of forgiveness can be akin to a double-edged sword, and each cuts thus. If one does not forgive, it only serves to eat away at the soul, like a stonecutter’s hammer and chisel, slowly chipping away at the large slab of marble. However, to forgive also deeply cuts into one’s armor or marbled soul, leaving a long lasting scar as it is not an easy thing to achieve, especially under the worst of circumstances. Herein lies the story of true forgiveness, attained when it was previously lost or unattainable – a double-edged sword disposed of by melding it in the hottest of fires or by bestowing it for safekeeping upon some mythical creature like the Lady of the Lake in Excalibur. Each is an action that will serve as a protective measure to safeguard one’s soul and everlasting dignity. To do so will surely set one free and create a feeling more divine than nearly any other fathomable thing.
By Cindy Calder4 years ago in Fiction
The Phoenix Rises
Death knows no obstacle, no boundary, as love rises from the ashes like a phoenix and soars to distant horizons. In the late day of each afternoon, Tessa walked the high cliffs of Cornwall, looking out upon the vast ocean as she anxiously awaited the return of her beloved sea captain, Seton. The nearby Trevose Head Lighthouse stood at the ready, able to provide guidance to any incoming ship out on the seas. It had been more than a year since she had seen The Sappho draw near the shoreline, but she held steadfast to hope as she waited. Daily, she walked amidst the flower-encrusted cliffs high above the lapping ocean’s waves, ever ready to see a blinking lantern from the ship that signaled her true love's long-awaited return.
By Cindy Calder4 years ago in Fiction
La Mort des Apparences
“We have plenty of time,” Zelda said, reaching across the space betwixt her and her husband of eighteen years. She lovingly caressed his forearm in an attempt to assure him that his despondent thoughts were due to nothing more than the gloomy weather that had filled this rainy day in Paris.
By Cindy Calder4 years ago in Fiction
Summoned Illusions
Her name was Heather, like the beautiful heather scattered endlessly across the mysterious and haunted moors. The moors of Dartmoor called to Heather, both in her waking hours and her nightly dreams. They beckoned her like a beacon, summoning her to their luscious hills as she slept each night in the comfort of a bed that had once belonged to her parents. Each morning when she awoke, the smell of heather permeated her bedroom, and she knew well enough it was the remnants of her dreams lingering in the air.
By Cindy Calder4 years ago in Fiction














