Deborah Portillo
Bio
Writing from the edges of my imagination, I create stories for the simple pleasure of exploring what lies beneath the surface of ordinary life. Drawing inspiration from long workdays, unexpected dreams, and shadows of my own subconscious.
Stories (40)
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Desperation. Content Warning.
She cries out loud for restitution as she calls out His name. Rather it be in anger, disgust, or sadness. Broken promises, faulty actions, and false words have only led to heartbreak. Nothing but tears out of despite of anger and hurt.
By Deborah Portillo3 years ago in Poets
Date of Good Tidings
It’s a warm summer evening on a night when the moon is set just right. It’s not a full moon, yet one would think it is with its bright LED glow, I sit on my back patio petting my pooches that thrive on my attention. Without warning, “Dance Monkey” by Tones and I shouts my phone to life, startling me out of deep thoughts. It’s the key to my heart, the other half of my soul. Sounding seductive and full of confidence he invites me to a surprise dinner announcing he’ll be pickling me up at six. With excitement and delight, I get dressed aiming to please, for he is that special someone after all. As he pulls into our driveway, the thudding of his favorite Spanish song replaces any honking horn any day. As he climbs out of the car with the music increasing as the door slowly opens, one would think a heavy weight champion was being introduced as he bravely approaches the ring, and I am the ring. Hugging me and greeting me with his welcoming kisses, lets me know I have chosen the right outfit for this unexpected dinner date. Walking me to the car, he slowly opens the door and guides me into the passenger seat, for I’m his queen after all. Watching him walk in front of the car to get in on his side only empowers me to tell him lets skip dinner. His Burberry smell only makes me wish dinner was already over. Our drive to where we are going only gives me lust for my husband’s touch. I’m excited, while at the same time I am disappoint of the not knowing. We arrive at a place called Flemings, and I all I can do is wonder. My love must sense it, for he informs me that it’s a steakhouse and wine bar. We exit the car walking to the front door, as he softly guides my lower back with his hand. With a greeting from the hostess, he responds our last name. After receiving an invitation of this way, we follow the young women to a private booth for two, where a single votive candle softy provides light. Immediately red wine is poured into our glasses, in which all it takes is a sip to know it Merlot. Once again, my king has done well. He’s selected everything to my liking from the place to eat, to the flavored drink. This place is new to us and for some special occasion he’s chosen it from the usual places. A special occasion indeed, for as my love makes a toast to us, he informs me of good tidings this special night. A promotion has brought us here and after tonight, our hopes and dreams will hopefully start coming true. After ordering our food, we sit and remanence of our earlier times together. It’s hard to believe sometimes that we have been together for five years. We have gone through some rough patches, but we’ve pulled through. After looking back, we decide to take another toast to this. As I take my last sip from the glass of merlot, our dinner arrives with a prime rib steak, mashed potatoes, and vegetables. The smell that radiates from the steak only makes me hungrier. The food is to die for and before we could finish, the waiter asked to bring us something else to drink, we both decide to go with a glass of water this time. Once we have completed our meals, and enjoyed more talks of remanence, we ask for our check. After the waiter returns with our bank card, we decide it’s time to return home. On our way home, my love drives slow as we intake the fullness we have just endorsed. Once home, my gorgeous man directs me to wait for him, as he exits the car to open the door for me. He gently tugs me out of the passenger seat to a warm embrace that conjoins us up to our front door and inside where only our secrets reside.
By Deborah Portillo5 years ago in Families
Thankful
During these times of pandemic stress and fear, there is so much to be thankful for. As a mix raced Latina, one of the most common medical issues the Latino race is so kindly bestowed, has now been handed down to me. On top of that, a medical issue that shows no providing evidence and most doctors believe as a hoax, has also generated. Generated by giving me a life with chronic pain, IBS, anxiety, and depression. Therefore, leaving doctors to say it’s a mental disorder, while others say it is a central nervous issue. A medical issue with no evidence of where it begins, only leaving an invisible force of pain with the fear to be active due to the consequences of tomorrow. These medical conditions leave me thankful for every breathe I am granted to take. Thankful for every beat in which the valves can pump blood to and through the heart, even with its murmur.
By Deborah Portillo5 years ago in Motivation
