Saturday, December 30, 2017

The Sirens Call Publishes New Short Story: Living Among The Dead

Check out my new Horror story, Living Among The Dead in The Sirens Call's December 2017 Issue #36:


Short Story: Mornings with Patsy

Mornings with Patsy
by, Melissa R. Mendelson
White paws reached for the half closed bedroom door. Large, yellow eyes peered out into the dimly lit hallway. Her large body held tight to the doorframe as her head slowly emerged. Her eyes raced back and forth, and then she saw me. She froze, debating if she should run and hide, and most mornings, she would. But not this morning.
Patsy watched me sit down on the stairs nearby. When she was sure that I would not move again, she inched toward the water and food bowl near the wall. She continued to inch closer but made sure that she watched my every move, and when I shifted on the stairs, she froze. She waited to see if I would move again, but I didn’t. She grew closer to her breakfast, pausing to hear the loud munching coming from downstairs. She knew the other cats were fed in the kitchen, but she didn’t eat with them. She didn’t even leave my brother’s room until her bowl outside was filled, and she only hurried down the stairs toward the basement to use the litter boxes. Other than that, I rarely saw her for she would be hiding under my brother’s bed or behind his television set.
Patsy was just about to eat when I finally moved away from the stairs. She raced back into my brother’s room, peering out at me with frightened eyes. She used to trust me. She used to like me until I terrorized her by trying to put her back in the carrier case to take her to the vet, so that they could cut her nails. The other cats were declawed, and adopting a cat with nails was a risk. She needed to have her claws cut, but the carrier case was a harsh reminder of being abandoned with her brother in front of my vet’s office. Her brother didn’t make it, and when she sees the carrier case, I guess it brings back those memories. On top of that, she developed an eye infection, and I was the one that chased her around, grabbed hold of her and forced the eye drops into her eye. No wonder the cat was afraid of me.
Patsy knew I was almost ready to leave for work. She waited until she heard the jingle of my keys, and then she hurried back over to her breakfast. Some mornings, the other cats would venture up the stairs around now and eat her food, and she would let them. Not this morning. When she was sure that I was leaving, she began to eat her dry food, munching loudly. She didn’t realize that I was by the stairs, listening, making sure that she was eating, and I knew that if I went up the stairs again, she would bolt, probably dive under my brother’s bed. So I left her alone, wondering if maybe I’ll catch a glance of her later when I come back and give her dinner. My brother said that when I’m not home, Patsy would come out of hiding and lie on his bed, but the moment I’m home, she went back to hiding. Maybe, one day, she could forgive me for putting her in the carrier case and for the eye drops, but I don’t think she will. I think the damage has been done, and she’s protecting herself. She’s protecting herself from me, but I would like to have my friend back. At least, I have my mornings with Patsy.

Wednesday, December 27, 2017

New Poem: The Gasp of Plastic Lips

The Gasp of Plastic Lips
by, Melissa R. Mendelson

You can lie to me today and tomorrow. 
You can lie to me next week. 
You can tell me that the sky is cotton candy, 
and the strange orbs that you can’t explain 
are Christmas decorations. 
You can tell me that the grass is made 
from silk caterpillars, 
and you can tell me those missiles in the air 
are only my imagination. 
You can tell me what you like, 
and you can say whatever you want 
for your words are like a dying neon sign 
in a run-down alley,
where the bums even refuse to live.  

Tuesday, December 05, 2017

New Parody Lyrics: If I Drift Along This Shore


If I Drift Along This Shore
(Parody of Jewel’s song, “Hands”)
by, Melissa R. Mendelson

If I could push this boat out to sea,
Then all the burden I carry would fall away
And there would be no worry of tomorrow from yesterday
And I could just drift, and I could just stay
And in times like these
I just need to get away
Or my mind will stray
There’s just too much uncertainty today
Too much violence and rage and fear
And I want to push it all away
But they’re here to stay, standing on the shore
But they’re here to stay, standing on the shore
And I cannot take any more
I see you watching me as you sit on the street
I wish I could help you but I too live in defeat
And my heart has left me
To disappear deep beneath
And I’m sinking in, and I can’t breathe
This world is killing me
For someone needs to stand up and fight
Cause there’s so much wrong that it’s not right
Won’t someone turn on the light
Won’t someone come and give me life
But they’re here to stay, standing on the shore
But they’re here to stay, standing on the shore
And I cannot take any more
In the end, what are we fighting for
In the end, what are we fighting for
I just want to push this boat out to sea, away from the shore
I just want to push this boat out to sea, away from the shore
I just want to push this boat out to sea, away from the shore
I want to think no more
But if I’m lost, I’ve gone too far
But if I’m lost, I’ve gone too far
And I am so much more
You will hear me roar
And you can just stand there, upon the shore
And you can just stand there, upon the shore
I know what I am fighting for
And this madness needs to break
Against the rocks on this shore
On this shore
On this shore
We need to fight so much more
On this shore
On this shore
We need to remember who we are
Before things went too far
Went too far
We are so much more
We are so much more

Friday, December 01, 2017

Poem: Cracks In Our Foundation


Cracks In Our Foundation
by, Melissa R. Mendelson

I don’t recognize my home anymore. 
I’ve invaded someone else’s space. 
When I open the door, 
I don’t recognize the streets 
or the road rage drivers 
that miss me by an inch. 
The land is not the same. 
It is gray and broken, 
and even the lake nearby looks angry, 
ready to swallow the fishermen 
that dare to steal its fish. 
And when I try to remember home, 
look into the eyes of those here,
I see distrust. 
I see hate. 
I see fear, 
and nobody wants to say anything. 
They don’t want to say
what is on their mind, 
for if they do, 
they might be struck down 
or have their tongues ripped out. 
This isn’t my home anymore. 
The skies have taken over the past, 
and the present’s cold, bitter. 
History’s ripped away, 
and whatever future we have, 
we may not have. 
And all I can do is close the door 
to this broken, ruined home 
and hope for all this pain, all this misery 
to go far, far away.