Author: Dawn Renee Miller

Lifelong writer of boring things like specs and reqs ready to spread her wings with some creativity.
writing

Break In – Chapter 6

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Carol sat at her desk, pouring over the blue leather journal. It dated back several years.

The writer had poured her heart into it, capturing a variety of thoughts, hopes and dreams. As Carol kept reading, she found references to Gary and John which seemed to date back to high school for the writer.

Could these be Gary Smith and John? Carol needed some real facts to tie this journal to them.

John and I went to the movies this evening. When we walked out, his truck had been vandalized. While we waited for the cops to investigate, I swear, I saw Gary drive down the street real slow. You know, like a criminal returning to the scene of the crime. It couldn’t be though; what did Gary have against John? I dismissed it as coincidence; maybe he saw us and just was curious.

Wow, could there been some rivalry there? Carol jotted down the date of the journal. She might be able to verify if this was actually the same John with Officer Tatum from the police records. She continued to peruse the journal for other clues. The entries continued to convince her these were from Johanna.

Gary is outside again, just sitting in his car. Why does he do this? Too nervous to come to the door? I just don’t get it. Dad thinks it’s funny. “Why doesn’t he just come up and ask you out?” he keeps asking. “It’s not like you have a boyfriend right now.” Geesh, Dad, thanks!

Carol noted the fact that Gary seemed obsessed a little with Johanna. There were a couple entries, from a date gone wrong to just plain awkward interactions Johanna noted. It could have just been a crush, though. Teens do crazy things.

Carol continued to dig. Johanna kept some notes about her feelings and her desires. Details about some dates, and other revealing tidbits over a couple years. Some things probably not relevant for Carol’s research however.

Then she read this entry.

John was arrested today. There is no way he did this. We just reunited, but I know he’s better than this!

Carol made note of the date; another one to check with Officer Tatum. She set the book aside. “I have to find out if these line up before going any further,” she scolded herself. “I need some facts before I get too carried way.”

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writing

Crash!

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” She held out her hand towards the oncoming car, as if she alone had the power to stop the one and a half ton gold beast headed her way.

Snap! Thud! Crash! The car hit her in the leg, throwing her up into the air, bouncing her onto the hood of the car and then sliding off the side of the car. The sound like a dying swan filled the air at impact; and now, silence. She fell to the black pavement below.

A crowd gathered around her. She laid on the pavement, her arm flung up and backwards, somehow stopping her head from hitting the pavement directly. A friendly face from work held her hand as she came to. Her boyfriend ran up realizing what had happened. He knelt down beside her.

Sirens wailed in the distance. She tried to sit up, but her co-worker told her to lie still until the paramedics arrived. She reached for her left leg. Pain radiated up, so much she couldn’t feel her lower leg or foot.

The officer and paramedics arrived on scene. The EMT cut open the left leg of her khaki pants to check for any protruding bones or cuts. Gratefully, there were none.

The officer worked through the witnesses and the driver while the paramedics continued to tend to the victim. Her management team came down to check on her. She told her Director that she wouldn’t make her 1:00. She was always focused on her work.

The paramedics helped her up and asked her to put weight on her injured leg. She collapsed and winced in pain. Her leg buckled like a noodle of cooked spaghetti.

As streams of tears soaked her face, her boyfriend paced nearby. She was coming to meet him for a farewell lunch. He planned on leaving, moving to another state, the next day.

The paramedics helped her onto the gurney and into the ambulance. Her boyfriend followed behind.

The emergency room was crowded when they arrived. The nurse looked her over in triage and directed her to another area. The officer took her statement while she waited.

The nurse cleaned gravels from the road out of her right forearm then bandaged it loosely. The medical staff observed her for two hours and told her boyfriend to not let her drift to sleep due to her concussion. X-rays didn’t reveal any major breaks in her leg, but likely she had soft tissue damage. A brace from her hip to her ankle was applied.

Over the following few weeks, her mind blurred details as it healed through the trauma; she struggled with words and figures for months. So much so, she couldn’t tell how bad it really was during this time. Perhaps her mind was protecting her.

She was referred to a orthopedic doctor to further check her leg. The wait was horrendous; 4 weeks later, she finally sat in the doctors office. One MRI later, and the true damage was revealed. 100% torn ACL. The long section of the ACL was stuck under her patella, causing her leg to slip and give way. Her MCL was 80% torn. To top it off, her femur and tibia showed significant bone bruising. Those would need to heal more and she needed to gain strength in her leg before surgery could be attempted.

The doctor explained the mechanics of how the damage was done. Essentially, when the car struck her leg, one section separated from the other and then smacked back into each other. The pull apart was likely the snap she heard, and the pain had caused her to lose consciousness as the rest of the accident happened.

Just under three months later, surgery included three screws along with the center strip of her own patellar tendon to replace the ACL. Two days after, her father died from cardiac arrest. Thank goodness for pain killers to get her through that next week. Her greatest champion was gone and she had much healing to do. Her boyfriend was hundreds of miles away. Her mother helped where she could, but she was dealing with the passing of her greatest love.

She summoned the strength to push through the months of physical therapy and eventually regained function in her leg. She knew her Dad was there, pushing her through those toughest moments, in spirit, in her heart and in her mind.

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writing

Break In – Chapter 5

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Carol arrived at the old Smith place just a few minutes after her call with Shana. When she arrived, she observed the door on the house had already been replaced from the break-in just a few nights before. Carol knocked.

Shana flung open the new door. “Thank you for coming so quickly. Come in, come in,” she motioned to Carol. Once Carol came through the door, Shana stuck her head outside, looked around, then swiftly closed the door.

Carol gave it no real thought. She figured Shana was still on edge from recent events. Carol looked around the room; everything was back in place, except the noticeably missing coffee table.

“Sit, please. Would you like some coffee, tea, or water?” Shana inquired as she headed into the adjoining kitchen where a kettle was already whistling.

“Water, please,” Carol responded, craning her neck to see Shana. “So, why did you ask me over?”

That was Carol, always right to the point. she didn’t hold anything back and preferred to cut through all the niceties. It was more efficient that way, except when it didn’t work.

Shana returned from the kitchen with a tea and a tall glass of ice cold water. She set them both on the side table and walked over to the fireplace.

She jiggled out one of the bricks from the fireplace and reached into the opening. “When I came back home once the mystery was solved, I found this,” she revealed as she handed Carol a blue leather journal. “Read it, let me know what you think.”

Carol opened up the book to see beautiful writing, that likely of a woman. Carol looked for a clue on who wrote it.

Shana offered, “From what I could infer, I believe this may be Johanna Smith’s journal. You need to read it, let me know if you think we should turn it over to authorities.”

Carol arched one of her eyebrows, skeptical, but also intrigued. “Can I take it with me? It will take some time to get through it.”

Shana nodded yes. Carol stood and shook her hand. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

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travel, writing

Fairy Pool Frivolity

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Near the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica, the mountains rise up and the thick rainforest covers the mountainside. We hiked the dense forest on a winding trail which included suspension rope bridges and narrow steps up and down the slopes.

From one of the suspension bridges, we spied our ultimate destination. A row of fairy pools fed by a stream originating further up in the mountains glistened beneath us.

We wound our way back down the trail. The final descent was steep and the sweat from our hike clung to our brow. The fairy pools enticed us to keep climbing down.

Finally we arrived at the pools. A continual rush of water made its way down the mountainside, filling the main pool and spilling over its edge, downstream to smaller pools.

We set down our packs and slid out of our hiking boots and clothes. Everyone had donned suits underneath, knowing these pools were our destination. We stuck our toes in the water. It was cold and refreshing compared to the heat in the Costa Rican sun.

Rich and Don jumped right in, splashing about and rough housing like the childhood playmates they were. April and I found our way to a shallow spot where we could relax and avoid the chaos from the guys.

Someone had suspended a rope up the rock where the water cascaded. The guys climbed up the rope and slid back down the rock, splashing in the pool.

I decided why should just the guys have all the fun? I waved to April and dove into the pool. The power of the water coming down was more forceful than I expected. I found the end of the rope and pulled myself to the base of the rock, staying out of the splash zone as much as possible.

While I didn’t have the arm strength like the guys, I floated in and out of the falling water. It felt good on my shoulders, massaging away any stiffness from carrying my pack.

Finally, I let the rope go and allowed the water to push me back into the center of the pool. We all climbed out of the pool and dried off after floating around a little more.

We found a dry spot, unpacking and drinking our waters then hiked back out of the jungle. The hike out was flatter and easier than the hike in. When we arrived back at the post where we started, we were greeted with a delicious Costa Rican meal to refuel us for the rest of our day.

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travel, writing

North Sea Sleep

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

A snippet of imagery

The cruise had been rough all day. Sea legs were hard to come by as the ship keel raised and lowered through the high swells. Melissa crawled her way from the stateroom’s bathroom to the bed. If only the rocking would stop for a few moments, she might be able to finally fall asleep and get through the night and hopefully the storm.

She finally made it to the bed and laid on her back, staring at the ceiling. When she tried to close her eyes, waves of nausea would return. Her eyelids were heavy, having been ill for several hours. The doors in the cabin knocked back and forth, squealing on their hinges and banging open and closed. Each sound would make Melissa come out of any rest she might get. Finally, exhaustion overcame the nausea and she succumbed to slumber. As she slept, the bed felt as if it was falling away from her and then catching her as the ship came back to center.

A loud thud shook the entire room as if they had hit a wall. The sound of breaking glass startled her and her cabin mates awake. The ship shuddered and groaned from the impact. Yelps for help throughout the ship could be heard as the passengers awoke startled from the event.

A steward knocked on the door. “Everyone alright in there?”

Rich, one of Melissa’s cabin mates, answered the door. “Yes, but we have broken glass everywhere.”

The steward looked as green as Melissa. He came in the room and assisted with cleaning up the broken glass and removed all other glasses from the room.

Melissa looked around the room. It looked like it had been tossed by burglars. The shelf where the glasses had been stowed was missing its metal bar. Melissa saw the bar and put it back in place.

The waves continued to rock the boat. Melissa became woozy again as the adrenalin wore off. Rich helped her back to bed and he finished straightening up anything that needed immediate attention.

The next morning, all of the rough weather had subsided as they had pulled into port. All of the passengers and crew had a rough night. The steward who helped them the night before came by to check in.

Rich inquired, “What caused that horrible thud last night? We know it was rough, but did we hit something?”

The steward looked at him. “We hit a rogue wave last night. The crew will be checking for damage to the hull now that we are in port. The bridge indicates it was at least a thirty-foot wave.” Melissa’s eyes grew wide, no wonder it felt like she was falling last night….she was.

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About Me, writing

Gulf Side Memory

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Moving from the cold frozen north of Illinois, I knew as a child I may never have to don a snowsuit again when we found our way to Florida. I had a yellow ten speed which I would ride from our condo to the front gate to catch the schoolbus, and then ride it back again at the end of the school day. I was the last to get on the bus, and the last to get off.

I couldn’t wait to be home each day. My mom and stepdad had rented a gulf front condo with a nice screened back porch, a lanai really. I was a latch-key kid as they called us back in those days. On my arrival home, I would grab a towel and my school books then go sit at our table outside to do my homework. The warm breezes and the glass like surface of the water calmed any childhood angst I had and allowed me to concentrate.

Like clockwork, around 4:15 PM, the rains would roll in. Most times, I was done with my homework at that point. I’d close up my books and stow them away to prevent anything from getting wet. I’d wrap my purple and yellow striped towel around my shoulders and sit there, watching as the rain would roll in from the gulf.

The small islets outside our condo would become blurry as the rain took over and the smooth water would give way to ripples and eventually waves if the winds were strong enough. My towel would protect me from the spray as the rain splashed against the screens.

The rains normally would pass in fifteen to twenty minutes. By then, my short cropped hair would be damp and begin to curl up. I’d wipe off any excess with my towel, then dry off the table and chair. If I had more homework to do, I’d wrap it up. Otherwise, I would sit there, trying to see if there were any dolphins playing in the water and watch the birds fly by until it would get dark when my parents would arrive home.

We only lived on the water like that for six short months. I occasionally find my way there as an adult to reminisce and enjoy the view, grateful for having had the experience.

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poetry, writing

Weariness

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

My eyes open slowly, fighting the new day.

I stumble from my slumber, struggling with my shirt and jogging pants.

I finally make it to the door, greeted by a cold rush of wind.

I must push onward. That goal is waiting at the end….and what a goal it is.

Days like today will be worth the push, I tell myself.

I see my breath in the crisp morning air.

Left foot, right foot, left foot.

Don’t give up.

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travel, writing

A Day in London

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Based on a trip from 2019

Weary eyed from an overnight flight from the states, we found our way from Gatwick to London. At least we were staying at the Grosvenor near the terminus of the line. We stumbled with stacks of luggage for 5 up the small back stair from the station, and found our way to the concierge. Thankfully we could check our luggage for the day until our rooms were ready.

We enjoyed a buffet breakfast in the hotel full of classic London fair, coffee, and tea…glorious hot tea. Over breakfast, our group decided to do a Red Bus tour; we only had a day and everyone was tired from the flight. A bus tour seemed like a good way to see the sights with low energy.

The day started out rainy, but gave way to crisp temperatures and blue skies for most of our tour. When seats were available, I found my way to the top of the bus to get some of the best pictures I could as the sights flew by.

Bundled in my scarf and jacket, exhaustion took over at times. I found myself drifting off and leaning on my travel companion to keep warm. I couldn’t wait until we could settle into our room.

We hopped off the tour when it reached Buckingham Palace. By then, we found our second wind. We walked out front, admiring the statue of Nike and the gates in front of the Palace.

Our hotel was only a short walk away and check-in time had arrived. Naps were in order once we checked in. The linens swallowed me as I drifted off to sleep. I could have slept the rest of the afternoon and overnight until we needed to head to the port for our cruise. But we had agreed to do dinner together, so sleep was secondary on the agenda yet again.

We were greeted with more rain when we met up with the rest of our party for dinner in the beautiful lobby of the Grosvenor. We ended up having dinner in the same restaurant as breakfast to avoid the weather. Dinner was just as good…or maybe we were just hungry! So goes our London experience. In the morning, we were headed to Brighton, England, to catch our ship.

If I am ever on the British Isles again, it will be a land tour with more time in London. The vibrant city holds more than anyone can see in just a single day.

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poetry, writing

Finding What I Lost?

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Travels down memory lane

Stir up feelings once thought long gone

Yet they feel as fresh as yesterday.

I wish I could transport back and see

If I had done things differently,

Where would my life be?

I will keep the memories, the good and bad,

And the lessons of yesterday

as I come back to now, hoping I found

A little piece of myself I was missing

From all those years ago.

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writing

Break In – Chapter 4

Posted on by Dawn Renee Miller

Carol stared intently at Officer Tatum. “How did you do it? How did you figure out who broke in to Shana Lee’s house?”

Officer Tatum smiled to himself. He outsmarted the ace reporter. “Well, Miss Whiting, that’s simple. It was pure detective work.” Billy was proud of beating Carol to the punch this time.

Carol, not losing her inquisitiveness, continued to question Officer Tatum. “Did knowing Joelle was Johanna Smith lead to any breaks in the case?”

“Why, yes, it did Carol. I had put together a list of contacts the night of the break in when I realized the connection,” he smirked; he wasn’t going to let her take any credit for that find.

She frowned a bit, but pushed on, “So, how did you know it was John?

Billy leaned back in his chair. “I didn’t. I staked out Johanna’s gravesite, figuring whoever did it didn’t know about Jo’s passing.”

Carol looked up. “So, my article helped solve the case?”

Billy recognized she was looking for validation. He decided to give it to her. “Miss Whiting, it sure did. But next time, would you mind checking with me before blowing up my case?”

Carol stood up and extended her hand. “Thank you Officer Tatum! I hope we’ll get to work together more in the future.”

“It’s Bill,” he replied as he gave her hand a shake.

Carol, satisfied with her interview, headed out of the Precinct. Her phone rang.

A voice quaked on the other side, “Is this Miss Whiting?”

Carol responded “Yes. Is everything okay?”

“It’s Shana Lee. Could you come by my house, the Smith house? I found something I need to share with you. The sooner, the better.

Carol turned around and made a beeline for Shana’s place.

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