Cindy Calder
Bio
From Charleston SC - "I am still learning." Michelangelo
Achievements (8)
Stories (342)
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It's in the Stars
It had grown late, and Shelby was beginning to think she’d fallen through time as she sat at her table alone. She was drinking her second glass of Tuscan Merlot and noticed that the restaurant’s crowd had drastically thinned since she’d first arrived. It had been an excruciatingly long week and this was a fitting end to it. So much for blind dates, she ruefully thought as she wondered if she would ever learn her lesson. Mentally berating herself, she reasoned that it was foolish to think she could meet anyone of any substance on a blind date.
By Cindy Calder5 years ago in Humans
Miss Oehler's Lost Book
Though not addicted to such excursions, I admittedly love to browse through antique malls and thrift stores. When I do treat myself, I am usually and immediately drawn to the crystal and porcelain items, always flipping said items over to look for watermarks and stamped makers' marks. However, it doesn’t have to be Waterford, Meissen, or Limoges to attract my interest. I often find a pretty, old, and yet inexpensive, piece of crystal or porcelain as utterly perfect in many ways as the more expensive ones. There’s just something indescribably wonderful about holding someone else’s previously treasured items in your hands. It’s as if you’re looking into an unknown individual's life and getting a slight glimpse into that person's soul, if only for a mere moment.
By Cindy Calder5 years ago in Humans
Eternal Perfection
I’d finally done it, and my heart was bursting with emotions to which I could not lay a name. My nearly lifelong dream had manifested into a reality. And what a wonderful, amazing, and unforgettable reality! I had waited years for it, and it had not disappointed in the least. It was just as I’d always known it would be and had been more fulfilling than anything imaginable – save giving birth to two children – in my lifetime.
By Cindy Calder5 years ago in Humans
Heather on the Moors
The moors of Dartmoor called to her both in her waking hours and her dreams. Each night they beckoned her as she slept in the comfortable bed that had belonged to her parents. And each morning as she awoke, the smell of heather and a fine mist seemed to permeate her room, although she knew well enough that it was merely the remnants of dreams that lingered so.
By Cindy Calder5 years ago in Humans
Resilience
As she waited for her date, Sloan fidgeted with everything on which she could lay her hands: the flatware, the wine glass, the napkin, the small vase of flowers, and the small candle. She rearranged them all. When she’d exhausted touching all the items on the table, she turned to her lap and proceeded to smooth her dress and pick the small pieces of lint from it. Her mind raced with so many thoughts. Multiple questions circled repeatedly despite her attempts to halt them.
By Cindy Calder5 years ago in Psyche
My Treasure
It was five-thirty on Thursday, and Lorelei was at her usual café in Florence, which overlooked the Piazza Duomo. The Café Florian had become a staple in her life during the last year, and upon finishing work for the day, she came to enjoy the beauty of the Piazza where she would watch people and drink caffè lattes. She looked forward to this part of her day. She also looked forward to seeing Mateo. Seeing him made each day complete.
By Cindy Calder5 years ago in Humans
Fried Green Tomatoes
Amelia Rose had lived in the South all her days. She was now twenty-nine years of age and single, which was nearly an unheard occurrence in the small Southern town where she lived. All of her hometown friends had been married for several years and most were already parents of at least two children. Amelia Rose didn’t understand the prerequisite. She’d finished college and decided upon returning home because her mother had been ill, but since doing so, she’d been chastised by family, close friends, acquaintances, and even strangers whom she did not know beyond a nod of greeting, for not ‘settling down’.
By Cindy Calder5 years ago in Humans
That Which We Call a Rose
Waverly stood and stretched. It had been a long, productive day of painting, and she was more than ready for a break. Before retreating from her studio, however, she took one last glance at the most recent piece of work. Pleased overall with the progression of her painting of the enormous, blue hydrangeas that sat upon the table, she cleaned her brushes and put away the multi-colored paint palette.
By Cindy Calder5 years ago in Humans
From the Shadows
Adrienne stepped onto the veranda. It was an unseasonably warm evening in February, and she needed to catch the breeze that came off the water. She had not yet danced, but her face behind the mask was still finely misted with perspiration, and she could feel small rivulets of the same running down between her breasts beneath the heavy eighteenth century costume dress that she’d chosen to wear this evening.
By Cindy Calder5 years ago in Futurism
A Simple Glass of Merlot
Greta felt the sun on her face and the wind in her hair during the long drive. Having the top down on the old Mercedes sports convertible was heavenly, especially this time of year. There was little that could beat it on a given day. The scenery of North Yorkshire that stretched before her on the road was stunning, soothing and filling her restless soul with rolling hills and a winding highway leading her to the seashore. She’d been making this annual trip for twenty-nine years and looked forward to it every June. It was something that gave her purpose and was well worth the endeavor despite the half day it took to reach her destination. And she would continue to make it each year as long as she was able. It gave her immense comfort and kept him closer in all that she did, not just in mind and heart.
By Cindy Calder5 years ago in Humans
From Across the Room
Lizzie made her way along the path that ran on the outskirts of the wooded area just along the pond. The early morning’s mist still hung above the water’s edge. It was eerily quiet except for the chirping of birds that flitted through the tree branches above her. Her Golden Retriever, Maggie, was at her side, a fierce protector at all times. She absorbed the energy that nature’s beautiful setting provided. It was moments like these that made her confident that moving to the secluded coastal town was the best decision she’d ever made. Life as a writer had never had more inspiration than it did right now. She lived and breathed every creative endeavor with a fervor previously unknown. At twenty-nine years of age, it had been worth it to begin anew and leave everything behind.
By Cindy Calder5 years ago in Humans
Lavender & Merlot
There was a definite chill in the fall evening as Abigail made her way to the small Italian restaurant called La Pasta. The rustic, multi-colored leaves whispered, blowing and scattering about 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. Her hair, thick and lustrous, had a mind all its own, and tonight, one thing was certain: there was no escaping the force of the breeze that lent it a new strength against any of her efforts to tame it. She mused to herself that she would likely look a mess once she arrived at her destination, but alas, it was what it was. She should have taken that taxi after she had agreed to come on the first date only if she was allowed to arrive and depart of her own accord.
By Cindy Calder5 years ago in Humans
