9/11 – Foolish games

“If we learn nothing else from this tragedy, we learn that life is short and there is no time for hate …”
Sandy Dahl, the wife of Flight 93 pilot Jason Dahl.

* * * * *

Day by day the games of peace and war damage the strength of humanity that holds the parallels and the meridians on Earth at the right place so we can exist not only today, but tomorrow too. The humanity, once valued as priceless by me, by you, by all of us who find grace and happiness first and most of all in the laughter of children, that humanity now suffers, weak and burning in pain. That humanity is almost brought down to the ground, praying on tired knees for a change and a ray of hopeful light.

I wonder how many days with smoke and flames, how many towns destroyed under the liquid sunshine we have to witness, to realize that in these foolish games only the innocent leave their lives buried in ashes and concrete. How many memorial services we have to swallow through eyes torn apart by the salt of the tears, how many names we have to engrave through the flowers left in memory, to understand that in these foolish games kindness dies first and the new day that comes carries rage and sadness that leads to new games, new wars, new tragedies … ?

The man with an engagement ring in the pocket that never came back home from work; the son whispering “I love you” on the phone to his mom, knowing there are minutes left to live; the little boy that never got a birthday present from his dad, because he was on duty saving someone else’s life; Who will explain the rules of the big games to all these strangers? Who will tell them that they’ve reached the finishing line without the right to throw the dice? Who asked them if they want the title “A winner with a special prize- the death”?

I can go on forever, upset by how the world has become, how easy people choose to fight in the name of power over faith, in the name of lost causes over hurt ego and pride, but today is not about blaming who’s fault were the tragedies, today is about the fallen and their families, a day to honor the memory of all who lost their lives! And we can hope, we can only hope that the blood and the tears shed will help humanity to give the world a lesson, to give every nation a purpose to treasure the peace and the colors of smiles left …


Flight 175- 9/11 courtesy Google images search


© 2011  Broken Sparkles


Winter’s tale

For those who haven’t read about the challenge, here is the link to the post with details –
Season’s favorite challenge.

* * * * *


Winter came down to our home one night
Quietly pirouetting in on silvery-toed slippers of snow,
And we, we were children once again.
~Bill Morgan, Jr.

"Pamporovo" - ski resort area next to my home town in Bulgaria.

If it wasn’t for the cold in winter, I could love it. The white fairytale of snow, the song of flakes … looking at it through the windows it’s magical! If only there wasn’t the cold …


– Word –

Dismally – causing gloom or dejection; gloomy; dreary; cheerless; obsolete.

Even with a negative meaning, I like the sound of the word. Like in winter, even with the cold there is some beauty in the snow.

– Quote –

“Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. When each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me.” ~ Stephenie Meyer

– Poem –

A Winter Dawn

by Lucy Maud Montgomery

Above the marge of night a star still shines,
And on the frosty hills the sombre pines
Harbor an eerie wind that crooneth low
Over the glimmering wastes of virgin snow.

Through the pale arch of orient the morn
Comes in a milk-white splendor newly-born,
A sword of crimson cuts in twain the gray
Banners of shadow hosts, and lo, the day!

– Book –

“Nana” by Emile Zola.

I know “Germinal is considered to be Zola’s masterpiece, but I personally love “Nana”. The ninth installment in the 20-volume Les Rougon-Macquart series, the story of Nana Coupeau’s rise from streetwalker to high-class cocotte during the last three years of the French Second Empire. The story doesn’t have a good end, Nana dies a horrible death from smallpox. And exactly this tragic and cold end makes me think of Winter … but reading Emile Zola is a delight!

– Song –

I enjoy mostly classical music in Winter, somehow it makes the days warmer and a bit longer, tasting sweet.

– Movie –

“The Cutting Edge” – Two dreams are shattered. Doug Dorsey gets injured in an Olympic hockey game in Calgary and the doctors say he can no longer play professionally. In the same time Kate Moseley- a figure skater – fails the gold … But somehow life gives them another chance and makes Doug and Kate partners on the ice. Dangerous skating routines, funny moments and a spray of love will lead them to the top!

Ice skating is my favorite sport not only in Winter and I love movies about ice-skating. I’ve seen “The cutting Edge” dozen times and still it’s the same enjoybale and spirit-lifting movie! There are four or five different versions of the movie, but the original one from 1992 with Moira Kelly and D.B.Sweeney is my favorite and the one that’s really specially made.

“The king of hockey and America’s ice queen just became a team!”

And I can’t just not share the last scene from the movie … so apologies for the over-crowded with videos post!

– Town –

I think I’d have the best winter in New York, I’ve heard it’s magical to be there … Let’s hope one day I’ll manage to visit! From the places I’ve been the best winter is at home for Christmas with my family. It’s much easier to swallow the cold when you’re with your loved ones!

– Animal –


The Eagle
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring’d with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls

– Flower –

Glory of the snow

courtesy BBC gardening online site

– Food –

Cider chicken with tagliatelle

  • 400 g tagliatelle
  • 2 tbsp vegetable oil
  • 400 g chicken breasts, skinless, cut into chunks
  • 210 ml dry cider
  • 1 1/2 tbsp wholegrain mustard
  • 15 g butter
  • 1 large leek, halved lengthways and finely sliced across
  • 80 g mushrooms, sliced
  • 100 ml double cream
  • 1 tbsp chives, snipped to garnish

Cook tagliatelle to packet instructions.  Meanwhile, heat 1 tbsp oil in a pan and fry chicken for 8 minutes, turning occasionally, until golden all round.  Add cider and mustard.  Season and simmer for 5-7minutes until slightly reduced.

Melt butter in a pan, add remaining oil and cook leek for 3 minutes.  Add mushrooms and cook for another 2 minutes. Add leek and mushrooms to chicken, stir in cream and simmer for 2 minutes. Toss cider chicken with tagliatelle.  Garnish with chives.

– Image –

Albena and Maxim - Bulgarian Ice skating couple. World champions in 2007.

Thank you everyone for taking part in the challenge and to the rest of you that will just read! Please leave the link to your posts in the comment section, you will have one week / July 23- July 30/ to do that. If you wish to read how others formed their thoughts into a season’s post, have a look at the comment section, I will make sure to include everyone joining! If you wish to see how the first part of the challenge was, click on Spring’s favorite, Summer’s favorite, Autumn.

Stay tuned for the next post on July the 30th – All time favorite


© 2011  Broken Sparkles


Memories * The End*

*All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental.*

Alex and Bella meet – last part

Isabella slept during the whole flight to New York, after the night with insomnia and memories, the minute she got on the seat she couldn’t hold her eyes opened. She woke up to hear the announcement that due to the bad weather conditions, the plane will not land on JFK, but on New Jersey’s international Newark airport. The pilot and the crew were apologizing for the inconvenience and assuring the passengers they will be well taken care off. As she was waiting for her luggage, she dialed the publishing house to let them know about the delay.

In the same time, Alex waiting near her for his suitcase, being on New Jersey’s airport for the same reason Bella was, he heard her saying: –“Hello! Can I please speak to Mr. Joey Amaba?”. That name immediately pricked up his ears, his body and mind stood alerted, waiting for the rest of the conversation, he listened to Bella carefully.
–“Oh, he is not in! Can you please let him know, my name is Isabella Valor, I was supposed to arrive in New York today, but there is a delay because of the weather and I am in New Jersey now, but as soon as I arrive I will call again. Thank you very much!”

Bella was a bit annoyed with the flight situation, with not being able to find Mr. Amaba and as she was thinking about it, two policemen and a man showing her a badge with FBI sign on it came close to her and she heard the man saying:
–“Miss, my name is agent Alex Castillo and I am with the Federal bureau of investigation, could you please follow us?”
–“I don’t understand!- Bella said in surprise, wondering what was going on, why the police would come to her and why this man would look so angry with her? She didn’t even know him. In fact she didn’t know anybody here, but she followed them silently.

They took her in a room with a table and two chairs only. Like in the movies, she thought. Like I am the bad guy and they brought me for interrogation, great, her brain wouldn’t stop thinking and panic got to her. She heard agent Castillo asking the two policemen to leave them alone and then he asked her:
–“How do you know Joey Amaba?”
–“Joey Amaba is my publisher! I am about to publish a book and work for his publishing house. I’ve never seen him in person though, I’ve always communicated with his assistant.”
–“So you want to tell me that you have never seen this man here?”- said Alex and put a picture on the table.
Bella looked down and bad pain chocked her, with Charlie’s face in front of her, the emotions from the day she last saw him were not too late to come back. Hatred and disgust. How much someone needed to keep all the rage locked, she wondered.

–“This is not Joey Amaba!”- she looked Alex in the eyes with firmness and her voice couldn’t be any colder. The thoughts were running, chasing the ends of the bits that will become a puzzle once she figures out what was she doing here, why this man, for unknown reason furious with her, was showing her picture of Charlie and what has Joey Amaba to do with all this?
–“Don’t lie to me”-Alex snapped out at her, hitting the table. -“You just said you haven’t seen Mr. Amaba in person, right? How do you know that this is not him?Are you trying to cover this monster?”

He could kill her right now!Alex thought he would jump over the table and just squeeze her neck and she was sitting there, looking at him heartless.
–“This is not Joey Amaba!”- Bella said again, trying to not raise her voice, trying to keep calm. And then the tears came again, those nasty tears, with broken taste, that she remembers so well.
–“This is Charlie Damilo”-she continued quietly. -“We were supposed to get married, nearly two years ago and this is when I last saw him.”. She lifted her head and looked at Alex, who didn’t know how to react on her tears. He sat down exhausted, like all the torture this girl was feeling, accidentally moved into his body and listened to her story. Now he understood why they couldn’t find anything about Joey Amaba. First, he was in Europe and second, it wasn’t his real name. He apologized to Bella for his bad tone and explained to her who Joey Amaba was, all the things he has done and how lucky she was to get away from him. Bella was blaming herself for being so naive again and when agent Castillo asked her for help to catch Charlie, she agreed without second thoughts.

She went to New York on the next day and to the appointment Joey Amaba’s assistant arranged for her to meet with the publisher. She looked absolutely calm when Charlie appeared and made him feel nervous, because he expected her to be worried, instead the police arrived 5 minutes later and arrested him, the look on his face, betrayed and hurt, gave her a small payback.


The cold sun was trying to get to the curtains of the penthouse of hotel Claridge Paris. It was cold day in December, but today was looking bright outside. Bella felt lips on her neck and heard: –“Good morning birthday girl!”
She smiled and got close to Alex saying : –“Good morning baby! Let’s go and get my present!”
Alex laughed, she was so funny, his Bella was lovely early in the morning. A month ago he asked her what would she like for her birthday and she said that she would like him to kiss her under the Eiffel tower. He couldn’t believe he actually did this, brought her here only for a kiss, even though he would give her much more than a kiss when they go to the tower. Alex smiled thinking of the little blue box with engagement ring he had in his pocket, he kissed her again and said: –“Let’s go to get your present!”.


Bella never published her poems, but Alex offered her to stay in Pasadena. He introduced her to very dear friend of him working in the local newspaper and Bella is now a journalist there. Alex left the bureau and got a job as a coach in the junior football team in Pasadena high school. Charlie was sent back to Philippines, he is now in jail and it will be for many more years. Mr. and Mrs. Rico Valor went together with Alex’s parents on a trip to Puerto Rico, after Bella and Alex got together, and they so much loved the small country, that sold their hotel in Santa Pola and moved to Puerto Rico. Helena finally met in person her internet sweetheart and they are now married and have one of the best cooking TV- shows. Dina took part in a beauty contest, she didn’t win but the photographer of the contest is now her photographer and husband …

As for me … I’m here, smiling and living in a world surrounded most of the time by people like Charlie, but I have faith and I believe in all good things. I’m waiting for my “Alex” and my “happy end” with a kiss in Paris and I know, they are somewhere out, waiting for me too and until then … keep dreaming all of you that came here to read the story!


"Les Amoureux du Sacre Coeur" by silxy on deviantart.com

© 2011  Broken Sparkles