Author: Candid Corvid Productions

- Creative Creations for Clever Minds! -
Altered States

Brain Ticking

Candid Corvid Productions

Though the shocking barks of the other dogs protesting at having been left behind (despite their already having just been walked) kept suddenly scare-jarring through her attempting-to-slumber body, she determined that if she disassembled the cattery fencing in the back yard that could no longer be used as a cattery due to those same dogs obsessing over any cat visitors, she could at least use it to cordon off the last bits of root nubs of what used to be huge pampas grass shelters (which had become a fire hazard before the dogs tore them down – but now needed remnant preservation saving).

Altered States

Gone With The Wind

Candid Corvid Productions

One teenage year day, the girl came home to losses’ tragedy.

The escape specialist had let all three of the dogs out of the back yard, and the girl’s mother had found their beautiful blue older dane (who had also been mother to the girl) curled up gracefully in her old age, dead, somewhere along the roadside, and the girl’s playful dobie had likely gotten scooped up by someone – never to be seen or heard from again.

The escapee returned as usual, but was rehomed as banishment from the premises for his actions having such consequences, though he had always had a kind and cheerful heart.

New Beginnings, Songs

“Take It Slow” (Country Song)

Candid Corvid Productions

By Athena Stairs, Valentine’s Day 2026

Well

She was a wide-eyed beauty
Lookin’ for adventure
She didn’t know
Who she could trust

So I told her to
Come here gently
Don’t ya let the fear win
I bet you got plenty of buck left in ya

‘Cause your lookin’ for a man
Ain’t been into danger
You don’t need to worry
‘Cause I ain’t in no hurry

We can get real cozy
Take it like we’re dozy
You know I like it when
You’re playin’ hard to get

And I know you need to be cautious
But darlin’ you’re lookin’ luscious

You aint seen nuthin’ at all yet
Come here close and I’ll tell you a secret

We could walk out that door
Promise you’ll want more
And then when we’re finished
We’ll start it all again

‘Cause this is
Oh my mama
Your lookin’ like a goddess

And one thing you’ll notice
Is baby I can take it real
Slow

Mmmm

Yeah

Oh babe
We’ll take it

Nice and
Slow

Mmmm

Mmmm

Baby
We can take it real
Slow

(Music continuing for a while, then fading into distance)

—

Male country vocal deep twang full of appreciation.

(Seed start from edge of a dream.)

(Contact me for permissions)

—

Listen to Take It Slow – Country Song, First Vocals 2.14.26.m4a by Candid Corvid Productions on #SoundCloud
https://on.soundcloud.com/UokqgeB294Z3F30n22

Stream of Thought

A Hapless Witness

Candid Corvid Productions

She never accused nor even initially suspected.

It came out over time by her confusion over finding things unusual and asking the wives what to do about them.

When she was questioned further, she just gave details of findings, stayed carefully neutral as always in her top notch professionalism, and asked for guidance on where to put or how to wash things.

But soon…

Soon it became apparent that these men who had claimed to have been so very proud of their partnered relationships had been acting in ways quite the opposite.

A tearful, heart-broken, and soul-crushed phone call from one of the once-wives informing of dissolution and separation of property assets made continuing to support the two soon-to-be bachelors something that she could no longer stomach.

Male Bonding

Both Of Them

Candid Corvid Productions

Hired separately to clean for each of them, but through their wives’ friend connections (?), she discovered over time that these two men seemed to be buying into rebeling in their middle ages.

They wanted to use their wealth selfishly for their selves and felt entitled to coming to the coast in their second family homes to have affairs.

I mean, “why not?”

(In their minds)

They had worked hard and earned status, now – right?

And their wives just kept wanting more cooperation and for them to play fair every night.

Where was the “fun” in any of that – when there were plenty of fish to pick from on the distanced coastal recesses?

A Woman's Plight

Tracking Numbers

Candid Corvid Productions

I don’t know why I write them down.

Easier on a phone to capture in passing, but if wrote in a notebook could seem pure madness.

With automatic search applications involving AI now, the quest for number meaning has become blended into a generality of many being the same.

So maybe I do it to track time.

Or to hinge on many “perfect” moments where maybe for that second I feel aligned.

Or maybe I am searching for something, and by writing down time’s supposed numbers in passing, I am opening a doorway into my own mind.

It could be also said that I am OCD-ing – but who cares if this is also part of the reason?

It’s something that I do that helps me keep feeling reinforced in my efforts of vying.

A Woman's Plight

Valentine’s Day

Candid Corvid Productions

They had snap pea seedlings and viola flower six packs now at some of the stores, and she could feel the tantalizing crinkle of Spring’s rebirthing arrival tickling at her senses with the flowers’ perfume awakening things too long dormant within her.

But she didn’t have the funds to get any of them, and next week would be too busy for her to consistently water and tend to them.

Maybe she could plant some seeds, water to dampen the soil around them, and during that time they would germinate?

Where Demons Tread

My Love,

Candid Corvid Productions

I haven’t written because I have been hurting.

I have wanted you to come be with me.

But why would you choose me – out of anyone else in the world?

I am used to losing.

Even though it doesn’t suit me.

And I want you, need you, desire you – yet feel powerless to claim you on my own.

I love you so much, Baby.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

A Woman's Plight

5:33-6:33 AM

Candid Corvid Productions

Because she had woken up from deep sleep to use the bathroom, she then heard the wolf’s sharp request intermittent barks, and got up again to let her out, give her dogs more water, and turn the fan toward the heavy-coated wolf so that the wolf could cool down from the fire that the hound always loved to cozy up in front of.

She reached fingers through the small cattery cage to carress her sweet tiger who brushed up against the bars in loving greeting while she waited for the two dogs to be ready to come back inside.

She realized then in the early morning quiet like those past settled evenings when the four of them had gathered in front of the fire to support their last previous cat’s winding down passing that it wasn’t that her animals were too much for her to manage.

No, they were her loving team, still there, patiently waiting for her.

It was that her house had become crowded full of others’ lives recallibrating in ways that seemed to have very little room for and not much to do with her own being able to function – although there were some other healing benefits of the reuniting.

And she had been bombarded by extreme overwhelm from the injuries, poverty struggles, and fighting to hold herself together to provide them all with stability when she had no longer felt any herself.

Because she had managed to straighten up the house some yesterday in that morning’s too early ‘wake up call,’ for a moment in these early hours today she could briefly see her own space and critter unit reflected in its own clarity.

Her posse was in a holding pattern…

And as she observed, the hound nibbled at her hind flank, apparently chasing a flea, so therefore needed flea treatment.

She rubbed the hound where she’d itched, and in that moment’s caring exchange, the hound turned back to look at her with deep, soulful eyes as if to ask, “is this really the end between us?”

She needed more care.

The four of them needed more care and space of their own again to reclaim their natural rhythms together.

She didn’t know what to do about this, as she hadn’t felt capable for far too long on so many levels, and had been so worried about and limited by extreme lack of finances.

A Woman's Plight, The Shower Accident 11/14/25

Yesterday

Candid Corvid Productions

First neurofeedback session in over two months because she had been too hurt and fragile to try again since last November.

The concussion had interrupted spinal communication and had compressed her chest, as well as had made it necessary for her to clamp down and not allow feelings to flow.

The session reconnected these things, and she had memories come to surface that had been hidden away, long ago.

Like realizing in a connective continuum that hypervigilance had pretty much always been necessary.

And remembering one brief time where her ex had opened up to her with no warning, and she had been positioned wrong to receive it in timing – and he never did, again.

Then, for the rest of the afternoon, she had been crying hard about feeling like she had to rehome beloved pets.

She broke down to the lady at the shelter as she examined that option, to a family member with their partner – and even to her caring and supportive neighbor.

Tears kept flowing on her own throughout the evening and a type of shock – shock from so many losses.

What the heck was all of this?

Emotional fatigue and a lifetime of over performing’s exhaustion while having to lead alone, carrying too much for too long without integral partner support had worn into her.

She could feel her heart wrestling with all of it.

She wanted to shed the weight’s pressure – like a snake sheds skin that has grown too tight to live within.