By K. Osorio-Teamer
So I’m rewatching the original Charmed series, and I’m realizing I’ve been into witchy shit my whole life. It’s a real the chicken or the egg scenario. Did this show make me obsessed with magic?
Anyway, I’ve been feeling a bit anxious lately… I can’t imagine why, but here’s a little magic that has brought me comfort.
Protection Spell:
Creator, ancestors, protect this space
Grant safety, of harm leave no trace
by S.L. Jordan
POV: Ammetta
There is an uncanny feeling when secrets get revealed, that’s what Ammetta was feeling at the moment. The air in the room felt thick. It warped her sight and deafened her ears. She saw their lips moving, soundlessly but could feel the impact of the words quietly slipping past their tongue and out into the air, creating the fog in the room.
She stood, unsteadily, and held her hand to her chest.
“No! I can’t even hear what you’re saying …”
Ammetta stepped away from the table, knocking her chair over, and stumbled to the couch. She fell back in suspended motion, barely landing safely in her comfort nook. The tears that had started at the table, finally fell in earnest raining into her ears.
“What. Are. You. Even. Saying. Right. Now?” she asked, punctuating each word through terse lips. She waved her hands through the air, as to clear the fog – in hopes the words being thrown at her would make sense.
She felt the weight of their body on the couch, but still no sound could be heard. The abruptness is which she sat up brought up face to face with the offensive mouth. She jerked back with narrow eyes and focused on the movement. Maybe she could lip-read. She watched as lips she had known intimately continued to dismantle her heart, her history, and everything she’s ever trusted until this point.
The pressure building up inside of her was too great – she looked around for something to grab and smash, to release the emotions that were firing uncontrollably through her body. One after another.
Surprisingly, there was nothing within reach. That’s when she noticed that the apartment had been sterilized. The frames and knick-knacks that usually cluttered the tables and bookshelves, were no more. Where had they gone? She haphazardly thought, when it dawned on her. This conversation was planned – her reactions were anticipated. There was something about that, that sent Ammetta further over the edge, the handling in the mist of having her world ripped apart.
What felt sudden was actually choreographed.
Author’s Note: by now you should have noticed that I AM good for a little flash/micro-fiction that CAN be more. This isn’t even what I wanted to post today. I wanted to continue the story I have been posting over the last few months. Ammetta had other ideas – and she needed to get this out. STAY TUNED, she maybe back.
Tony W.
full moon
eclipse
nosey cat
raised hands
shoulder shimmy
hip shake
voice raised
spoken word
an invocation
cauldron
blaze fire
dancing feline
around
around
around
full moon
eclipse
hands upraised
shimmy
step
shimmy
turn
fire light
moon light
blessed be
hear our prayer
By: IO
A man once asked me why I feel so strongly in support of a person’s right to choose. Except he phrased it as a woman’s right to an abortion. That misses the point. It’s about a person’s right to start a family or not, to undergo physical trauma or not, to decide on a medical treatment that is right for their life where they are at that moment. It’s about making a medical decision which should not be denied wholesale just because some people would not make that choice for themselves.
Imagine if radiation for cancer treatment was outlawed because some people decided they would never choose that for themselves. A reasonable person would consider that scenario ridiculous. Afterall, if a person developed cancer and was offered radiation, they could decline and choose another form of treatment. Now, a fetus is not a cancer, and abortion options are much less brutal on the body than radiation, but the core of the argument is this: abortion is a medical procedure. It is healthcare. A person has a right to consult with a medical professional on the right options for their bodies and their health.
Some arguments take the “What about the fetus?” route. A fetus is not a person. The subject which can carry a fetus is a person. I feel strongly about people being able to make choices for their health because that is the foundation of independence we claim our laws are based on. Someone else’s abortion has nothing to do with you. Just like someone else’s cancer treatment has nothing to do with you. Someone else’s skincare treatment has nothing to do with you. Someone else’s vitamin supplements have nothing to do with you. I feel strongly about living my life and letting you live yours.
by K. Osorio-Teamer
This blog is many days late and this blogger is still recovering from a bad case of writer’s block. I am a writer that only flirts with the pen and keyboard. I throw ideas around in my head, they bounce around for a bit, and just like that they’re gone. Did they escape through my nose or ears? I don’t rush to jot them down. I think I used to do that. I guess I’ve lost some of the habits of writing like keeping a list of story ideas or writing, to name a few. But I’m here and 5 sentences deep, so let’s do this!
It’s mother’s day weekend and I am, as usual, in shock that I am one. I have a whole kid that calls me momma. I’m the one in charge. Who put me in charge? Sometimes – MANY times – I spill water on myself when I’m just drinking water. Not walking and drinking water. Not driving and drinking water. Just sitting there in the most stationary and stable position, and I spill on myself. I’ve been doing that shit since I was a kid. But I am a mom, and a damn good one. I keep telling myself that because the overthinking monster in my head tells me otherwise.
Motherhood is fucking hard and beautiful. You love your child with all your heart and you want them to go away. I’ve learned that motherhood is getting comfortable with two truths coexisting. In fact, this whole mom business has taught me a lot about myself. My daughter is this mini me coming at me with my own bullshit. I’ve had to face truths about myself that have begrudgingly led to healing and growth. She’s helped me learn about patience, boundaries, love, communication, perspective, and mindfulness, and we’re only in year four of the program!
She is a funny, kind, bright, loving, and demanding little human, and I am eternally grateful for her. That fact lives alongside the fact that I’m grieving the ways that motherhood has changed my life. Becoming a mother was not an easy decision to make, but I made it. It was mine to make, and fuck a government that wants to tell me otherwise.
biSKITs & gravy 