She sat on the beach sand like a soft painting, that long California blonde hair blowing gently in warm summer wind.

Maybe he misses her when she’s out of town or just in the other room, tries to listen to Iggy Pop or have a true vision of Picasso with a cold beer, but it doesn’t work because he has gone somewhere impossible with her, can’t drink enough to blur the image of her in that red bikini with that glass of red wine.

Or the fine shimmer of darkness in her chocolate eyes.

They drank in an alley once, in Los Angeles, as alley cats strolled fences, hanging onto sanity, broke, young, on the run and always cool west coast jazz, Chet Baker, Gerry Mulligan, Herb Alpert, a soundtrack, a stillness…

Facing each other and toughing out the metamorphosis of evolving.  Would she get upset if I ripped a butterfly in half or squeezed a kitten until it exploded?

She would.

But sometimes we don’t know our own strength when touching something delicate and beautiful until we destroy it.


  1. You may know how to destroy, capably so, but you are truly a creator.

  2. wonderful story, as all your writing proves to be. i get that you have gifts galore. and a blessed life – alcohol man, lucy hell et al.

    wishing you well. keep on keepin’ on…


  3. Hi Lucy – You are one lucky lady married to that Alcoholman dude. And…you are a very talented writer, as well. I have read many many many of your writings/posts on various sites. Best, Winnie 🙂

  4. I believe lucy deserves better than an “as well”

    By the way if “alcoholman dude” ever heads south, he’s gonna have to show us how he got his name.

  5. the “as well” was meant to add dimension: lucky lady + very talented writer.

  6. I am totally an “as well” around these parts 😉 So all is good.
    Thanks for the props, Winnie.

    Hey Mr. Cox, have I ever told you that you have such a totally rad name…and don’t think we won’t take you up on that offer there.

    I love the South.

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