Miss Darby

Featured

April 29, 2017, by Patrick Starks 

MISS DARBY MAIN

Not many people in life get to meet their soul mates. Not many even get to see a wedding for that matter. I know I still haven’t.  And for Miss Darby, time was ticking. She had just entered into her thirties and to make matters worst, all of her childhood friends were getting married—it was the dream they had all dreamt. Yet, the dream was still just a dream for Miss Darby. Miraculously, all of her friends would be pregnant at the same time, with each one of their bellies forming in the shape of bowling bowls as the months went on. The baby shower was going to be one of the biggest ever thrown, and the most expensive—Miss Darby’s wallet cried and she along with it.  She was lonely, however, one would be a fool to think that she had not been loved or had someone special in her life.

It wasn’t long ago Miss Darby had stumbled upon the man of her dreams. Although, he wasn’t quite the dream her mother expected. He was Abercrombie handsome and wielded a smile that would make any miserable old fool smile again.  Regardless of his stunning features, it would seem he was not a man of wealth and for that Mother Darby would disapprove.

The man worked for a local grocery in the town as the lead cashier—where every Monday through Friday he would open and closed the store—exhaustingly falling into the arms of Miss Darby when he returned. No matter his job title, Miss Darby’s friends who she envied so, adored the man. In fact, they praised the man—it made them all have regret of taking another’s hand. Their husbands all had money of course, but it was the man’s heart that they treasured the most. And it wouldn’t take long for the husbands of those women to form a rebellion. It was easy to say that the men were not fond of  Miss Darby’s future husband.

In the beginning, Miss Darby and her soul mate whom everyone called Nova, were depicted as the ideal couple; just like the ones in romantic films or novels. Even though the two were not wedded yet, they had thoughts of children—at least Miss Darby did for that she was getting no younger. The pressure from her mother and her friends could not be any more stressful than it was then.

“My dear when are you and that whatever going to give me some grandbabies?” said Mother Darby as she stirred inside a boiling pot.

The smell was so hypnotizing that Miss Darby almost ignored such a rude question. She was starving, yet still would not tolerate that sort of disrespect for the man she loved.

“Come on mom he’s a great guy. And his name is Nova for your information,” said Miss Darby chopping away the vegetables in front of her.

Her mother grinned. “Whatever. I told you, you should have stayed with Berry, Brian, whatever the hell his name was.”

“You mean Brandon…”

“Yes that’s the one,” nodded mother Darby.

Miss Darby was in no need to get into a discussion with her mother. Her mother did not know the whole truth to the story, as in life most do not. Brandon had lots of money, he ran his own business,  he was good-looking, but he was unfaithful to Miss Darby every chance he got. Alcohol on his breath, perfume on his clothes, and faded red lips around his neck was enough to verify where Brandon might have been, more so, what he might have done.  And Nova was none of that, except the good looking part.

Not long after Miss Darby and Nova would have one of the most awkward dinners any could have. Mother Darby sipped on her bowl of soup but her eyes did not leave Novas’.

“Um… T-thank you for the soup Mother Darby. I have to say it’s the best I’ve ever had,” said Nova shaking his spoon all the way up to his mouth.

He was nervous and mother Darby loved it. She replied. “Oh, you say the best eh?”

Nova nodded, and a soft hand from underneath the table rested on his knee for assurance that everything would be alright. There were many uncomfortable words spoken that night. Luckily for Nova, it went by fast; however, when they had gotten back home he would find that the night had just begun.

“Ah-h’m,” puffed Miss Darby.  “ So, do you want to have kids or not?”

Nova sighed within his reply. “Honey, where not even married yet. Plus we just moved in together just a few months ago.”

His words were valid. Although, any other man would have known to put a little more icing on those words, for their own sake of course. Miss Darby then ran into their bedroom with tear after tear clashing against the hardwood floor. The door slammed and, behind it sadness and sobs.

Nova felt awful afterward. He wasn’t the smartest man in the world, but he was no fool, he knew exactly how women in her situation felt. Miss Darby reminded Nova of his sister he had not seen in years. His sister experienced the same, and in some ways to Nova, much worst. It still felt like yesterday his sister had told him how she felt, the reason why she left.

Sister Nova:

“You just don’t get it Nova. Men have no idea what women go through every day. The pressure we face. You all walk around like roosters with your chest out knowing you have all the time in the world to have a child, so long you have someone young. But for us it’s not like that, we can’t all have children in our fifties or sixties. Neither would I want to. Mom pressures me every day but all you do is laugh and do nothing. You tell mom I don’t want kids, and I don’t want this family. Goodbye Nova!”

Nova at the time was so young he thought his sister was joking. He laughed. However, he did not laugh after seven years had come to pass.

A couple of hours had now gone by, Miss Darby came out of the bedroom with eyes still teary like the stars. “I’m sorry…” said Miss Darby. No reply was given, the room was empty and there was no Nova.

A letter written like a child was left on the back of an old photo of the two—their first photo. Nova’s handwriting wasn’t the best, but Miss Darby cherished it more than life itself, she laughed tearfully. Nova had already packed a few things and set sail, and made it clear to Miss Darby on the photo that he would one day return to marry her, to impregnate her, in his own words. And Miss Darby would laugh at that too. Nova explained everything and his reasoning for leaving. That he would not and could not marry her if his sister was not one of her bridesmaids. He had planned to find his sister and bring her back home as he felt she needed him more than ever. His intuition called, and it was his intuition that was never wrong. He did not want to fail his sister again.

Miss Darby cried even harder and then held the letter close her heart. She was just twenty-three when she met Nova and now was on the brink of hitting her thirties.  Little did her mother or her friends know, that she had not forgotten about Nova and his promise, yet it seemed they had all forgotten. Again, they did not know the truth to the story.

No matter what anyone said Miss Darby would not hate it. No matter how many debated.

She waited.

 

 

“I=Am Love”

March 15, 2018 by Patrick Starks

I AM LOVE.jpg

“If I could fly I’d be an eagle, if I was a dog I’d probably be a beagle. But I am love, so I could just be Cupid, falling in love with all the wrong ones; that made me stupid. Though, my tears are like rivers, finding an ocean to escape, trying to expel passed this plastic world I gape. It is true I am love, but only one turtle dove; no shampoo thereof. But still, I am love, and life is forever precious to me, no matter how far I am pulled from these stars above the sea.”

SUMMER

Featured

March 13, 2018 by Patrick Starks

SUMMER

“Nature, nature, look at all this nature; I’m about to savor it, like these NOW and LATERS. Trees, grass, the lake is all that I can see; including the sea, all in which brings me love and vivid memory. Summer is on it’s way, and I cannot wait to fish again, all in hopes that I find my catch, this I wish to the end. And downing this cherry Slurpee has never tasted so brisk, but tisk, tisk, tisk; my brain becomes frozen to the taste of your lips.  They say dreams come true, and it is you that have shown me that, that this life can be more than a dream, and it is this saying I will tat. You are my summer, Summer; the one and only, the one to keep me grounded, my gravity, I; no longer lonely.”

Best Friends

January 18th, 2018 by Patrick Starks 

TOAST

I told her to just be herself, that it be a greater gift than her wealth, that doing so would one day even restore her health; she then touched her heart and felt. I said, can’t you see that you are perfect just the way you are, and then her eyes became teary, as they twinkled, twinkled upon a star. She… No you are something special, different, you are your own woman, that in which I boast; and as we all stand here at this coast, I really can’t believe that it is I who gives this toast. Yes, I know, you are getting married to this man, and that its to late for me to be your Aladin, and give you my hand. My best friend, my love, I am sorry if I have ruined your day, but there is too much left that my heart has yet to say. I promise its not the wine that talks, but love for you that beats, you have always had the perfect smile, the brightest teeth. And before this man, comes down to beat me to pulp, it wont make any difference, my love for you is like water, I purify, I gulp.

Thank You all! / “Rosita”

September 27th by Patrick Starks

StockSnap_P3ZQ2AJ93U

Hey everyone and happy Wednesday 😊 I’d like to take time to say thank you all for supporting the Pacharcblog, I really appreciate the love shown and the fantastic writers I have met down the road. And as much as I’d love to keep giving you all praise as you all deserve, I must move forward with the other reason for writing this post.

There will no longer be three post a week, as I am putting more focus into the book I have been working on for quite some time now—stay tuned, it is almost finish 😊. On that note, there are a lot of series that I have started on the blog as most of you already know, and feel I owe it to you guys, including myself to finish them. So I decided I would make a calendar of when the continuation of these stories would be released—so that you are aware of what is going on, I don’t want you guys to feel like I’m bailing on you lol.

The first continuation will be to “My Reasons Why,” if you have not read episode 1 yet, go check it out, promise you wont be disappointed, I hope lol—just simply type the title of it into the search engine on the right side of the page and it will bring you to it. The release date episode 2 will be on September 29th, this Saturday @ 2pm.  After that release I will be continuing “Tonka and Barbie,” which will be released October 8th , Sunday @ 7pm. To find out more about the dates and times click on the Upcoming Tab which I have just added to the site.

Here is something short to leave you all with for your time and patience😊

“Rosita”

I can tell by her laugh that she’s the one, but wise man would say that I was too afraid to say anything, worrying that I’d  be no fun. You got no chance, the little boy next to me would say, but he was just a child—what all the girls would call a little bae. But will she understand me, or think I’m too nice—the dagger to a good man’s heart, the cut of a blade, the cut of a knife. But my kindness is my strength, an underrated gift—one today that everyone looks as if a myth. And the way she stares into my eyes is enough to make any man shy away, but I promised even to the heavens, that today would be my day. She walks by and all I can ever notice is her smell, giving reason to why the guy next to me had fell. Sarcastic, but the man was truly unconscious, beauty had struck again, I felt this was my chance—until another would swoop in with a name that rhymed with romance. Lance was a charming one and a cocky on for that, but he’d always strike out, not matter how hard he swung the bat—physically and mentally. And as she talked with me for only a moment, I could tell she felt the same, as love was all that could, and ever remained. But we both still hesitate, no affection to give, waiting any longer and we both have yet to truly live. And as I now look into the future, I can see that there was no worry, Rosita was the one, and so this poem I will burry.

Barista Girl

September 24th, 2017 by Patrick Starks 

StockSnap_SLMLR5HSMT

Double or triple, I’d ponder, maybe even a quad, but I feared that make me a goner. There was at least seven behind me waiting to laugh at my rejection, but I couldn’t wait, I had to espresso my affection. Barista girls cheeks would then turn red as her chocolatey eyes sparkled, I could see my words were smooth enough to leave her somewhat startled. But coffee, my coffee as she stirs you up, can you feel through her delicate hands that I honestly had any luck. The numbers written on your forehead would tell me otherwise, as you now have become my greatest prize. The following day she and I would leave the park with coffee on the ground, love was in the air, for that even our coffee cups had found.

Saving Love

September 1, 2017 by Patrick Starks 

14806481 - closeup of a hands of a couple held together

Love never knew that she was sick. Every day as I watched her come back from work, I could tell that a piece of her was missing—that the parasite would not only control her mind, but her body. But it wasn’t her fault—why she lost control—the parasite became stronger as the days went on, feeding off whatever negative emotions came from her fears, or others. Continue reading

My Heart, My Kryptonite

August 16, 2017 by Patrick Starks

57203768 - a red heart shaped tree at sunset.

Growing up I’ve always wanted to be a hero, or some sort of superhero, but I always lacked the special abilities to do so. Batman was of course the closest I could relate to. I was never wealthy man—not like him, but always felt he was like everyone else—normal. He never had any super powers, but he had heart, that’s what my brother always thought. But as much as I felt I could relate to Batman, my favorite was Superman. Continue reading

The Heart of Caroline

July 12, 2017 by Patrick Starks 

44954075 - halloween night background with man pushing woman on swing

Caroline… She was only sixteen when we became official partners in crime. We were just teenagers then—high schoolers, with no clue to what the world had to offer us. Caroline was of course drooled over by all the boys, the jocks, in which I hated the most. They’d always come around us during lunchtime singing that song by Outkast called “Roses”. And it was obvious they only sang it because her name was in it—and man did that song get stuck my head, still annoys me today. I on the other hand, I was just the opposite. I was the loner, the rebel, if you will. No one really cared about me, not any girl, but Caroline did. Continue reading