Issue 3: Sunburned On A Cloudy Day

Drenched in tears, sweat and a pond of puke curbside.

An intro to The Bluebird Paradox.

The Bluebird Paradox is a gritty MicroZine that explores the coexistence of light and darkness. It focuses on societal issues and the human experiences we often overlook through short stories, poetry, and other creative arts.

The Bluebird pays homage to Charles Bukowski’s poem “Bluebird,” which delves into themes of vulnerability, regression, and the struggle to express oneself authentically.

Often the Bluebird symbolizes hope, love, positivity, and renewal; however, throughout my life, I’ve observed the presence of darkness where there is light, which has led me to believe there is a paradoxical relationship between the two.

The Bluebird Paradox embraces the inherent contradictions and complexities of our existence and intends to reveal deeper truths about society, emotions, and the human experience.

As always, Thank you for being here and for reading...

Photo by Verstairse

Helplessness is a dagger, leaving behind the nastiest scars. Its trademark: dual edges, cutting everyone involved and killing them simultaneously, with nothing anybody can do about it. It’s uncalculated, irrational, and sporadic—the worst kind of killer. At least, that’s how it feels when you’re knee-deep in shit, wondering how you’re still alive and struggling to understand your life’s purpose. It’s misery on a plate, and you’re forbidden to leave the table until you’ve swallowed every last bite.

You may feel like you’re stuck in a relationship, drowning in debt, losing your mind, addicted to drugs, or a slave to alcohol. Maybe you’re jobless, carless, homeless, and feeling like a burden to those around you—or yourself. Helplessness is knowing you inevitably need help but feeling too weak to seek it, believing it’s too late to ask for it, or thinking it’s not the right time. Maybe you tell yourself, “The man is keeping you down,” or you’re too this or too that, and who cares anyway—you’ve already made up your mind that you’re not worthy.

On one side of the blade are the afflicted as described above, where helplessness is a myth—a fallacy believed by choice and followed like a religion. Excuses become the prescription and an amalgamation of self-pity and downward spirals is their daily dose. Sure, not all problems are created equal, and not everyone has an immediate support system or the right environment to make it out, but at the end of the day, most situations are repairable, even if it’s at a turtle’s pace—minus a terminal prognosis or the amount of melanin in your skin.

And the most common side effect of this “prescription” is paralysis. Feeling overwhelmed and crushed by life can be too much to handle for many, and to cope, it may seem easier to numb the pain or pass the blame rather than face the problem head-on. But it’s more of an ineptitude than a handicap—or maybe it’s denial, a slow suicide, or too much pride—that keeps many from asking for help. Trust me when I tell you, I wouldn’t likely be here if I hadn’t done so myself—a few times.  

On the other side of the blade is the support person—or often, people. Sometimes, it’s a whole damn family. They receive double or even triple the lacerations of the afflicted because they often step in the path of danger to absorb their pain. Boy, does it get bloody—reminiscent of Mel Gibson’s, The Passion of the Christ. If you know you know. Being in their shoes is like losing cabin air pressure at thirty thousand feet and choosing to forfeit your oxygen mask to save another, only to watch that person turn away, refusing to breathe. Both suffocate to death when both easily could have lived.

For those suffering on either side of the blade, feeling helpless and lost is common. It’s terrifying to not have control, to be at the mercy of the pill, or the person risking another pill to curb the appetite. You may feel detached from reality or completely estranged, but you’re never alone. Many times, the emotions are mutual, and if we understand that, we may find common ground in each other’s suffering. What’s important to remember is that you’re with the person you love or at least nearby, ready to act when they need it.

There are resources. There are people who love you or want to love you, whether you see that now or in retrospect later. But asking for help is the first step. Following through is the rest.

This month’s theme is inspired by a poem I wrote in 2023 titled “You Never Asked,” for a creative writing prompt that challenged writers to “Unveil An Umbrella's Secrets.” After revising the piece, I felt it deserved a fancier, more distinguished name, and chose to rely on the French to deliver the appropriate amount of elegance.

I re-named it “En-tout-cas (ˌäⁿˌtüˈkä),” which, when translated, means “in any case,” a fitting sub-theme for this month’s issue. But it also describes a parasol or umbrella. Both meanings perfectly portray the depth intended behind my poem.

Very bougie of me, right?

You may associate an umbrella with a sunny day at the beach, a romantic picnic in the park, or an unforgettable night out on the town sipping margaritas with your besties. Your umbrella may have flamboyant stripes, varicolored polka dots, and vivid designs printed throughout; It’s probably pretty, it’s hopeful, and it’s lovely.

Mine is black.

For me, the umbrella is for bad weather, funerals, or the occasional circus act. It’s sorrowful and ugly—a novelty of gloom. Mary Poppins would scoff at the lack of sugar that mine comes with, and no amount of medicine can fix it.

My umbrella evokes the dreariness you feel when sitting alone in the pouring rain, waiting for a ride that never comes but you knew was never showing up in the first place.

My umbrella is always mourning or anticipating death as it suffers the hardship of living with a struggling addict who cannot seem to be helped. My umbrella is helplessness.

I’ve always loved exploring the crossover between the animate and inanimate because everything for me has a story baked into it. Everything has a history, even if it’s a sad one, and even if it never lived.

When writing En-tout-cas, I imagined an umbrella that was tragically forgotten, stuffed into a corner feeling helpless as it watched its owner wither away, never seeking help. I pulled from personal experiences of dealing with people I’ve loved in similar situations.

"En-tout-cas" 

I was always here,
a hallstand castaway,
collecting dust.
An afterthought—
a convenient illusion 
rather than a viable solution,
a witness to your every storm. 

"Maybe tomorrow,"
you’d say
but never did you reach for me, 
never did you think
to shield yourself 
from the downpour 
of that melancholy sky 
or shade your pallid skin 
from the searing sun.

Why? 

Why’d you choose 
getting wet and sunburned 
over my simple shelter? 

Why’d you let the world 
drench and scorch you
when I was always here?

Instead,
they found you
face down, 
having suffocated in a cocktail 
of tears and sweat 
and a pond of puke curbside
with enough half-chewed pills to down a steer.
A cobblestone grave, 
your body glistened in the rain
under neon lights, 
pixie dust clinging to your nostrils
fresh enough to sniff again 
if you were 
still alive.


If you were still alive.


I was
always here
but never 
did you reach for me, 


so, you drowned.



©2024 Chris Sadhill

Sadhill’s Music Minute

“You” by Keaton Henson epitomizes the wistful perspective of a person grieving. Whether it’s the pain of a breakup, the death of a loved one, or someone struggling with mental health, the underlying feeling captured is helplessness.

Henson carries the full burden of pain in his shaky voice and delivers a poignancy felt deep in the soul. Even if you haven’t suffered, somehow it’s immediately recognizable, and for four and a half minutes you’re in the room grief-stricken along with him.

Though sadness is prominent throughout this song, there’s a positive through line found in the lyrics—the commitment to being there for those you love.

With every affliction implied in “You,” Henson offers unconditional love and support, and I think that’s the lesson. As heartbreaking as it sounds, despite suffering, you must always be there even if it’s just in spirit, from the shadows, or at a distance.

Be there for when they fall.

In 2010 “You” was featured in “Lost Girl” Season 4 Episode 13: Dark Horse.

Sadhill News

Writing Battle

The 2024 Summer Nano Fiction is well underway. I have written and submitted my story, which I cannot name. At the time this newsletter drops, we are just beginning to judge the Spartan duels. As always, it’s nerve-racking not knowing how my word baby is fairing, but I trust I raised it right to fight its own battles—only time will tell.

Twisted Tournament

The results are in and it wasn’t all bad news for me. To quickly recap, I wrote three stories in three days:

100-word story: “Jane” -A noire-inspired piece where a detective investigates a murder, and tries not to fall in love.

250-word story: “Planting My Bastard Seeds” -A medieval revenge piece where an old king is forced from his throne by his sons, and he must teach them the lessons of the past.

500-word story: “Not in My Backyard” -Patricia, the Neighborhood watch leader has been tracking a child killer on the loose and is close to finding him. How close, will be revealed on a foot patrol during tonight’s late shift.

The results:

My 250-word story ranked low, probably due to the content (which was trigger-warned beforehand) but the readers did not get along with it well. That’s OK, not every story is meant for everyone, but it did come away with two Best Prose trophies and I’ll certainly take that!

My 500-word story ranked a little higher, but still too low to brag about. It came away with one Best Opening trophy and one Most Surprising trophy. I work hard on opening and closing my stories, so these were nice accolades to celebrate.

…but

the BIG news is my 100-word story, Jane.

It made it on the Top 20 leader board and tied for 15th place point-wise. Jane received three Best Opening trophies and two Best Prose trophies. I’m stoked. Jane was my favorite story that I wrote in this contest, though Planting My Bastard Seeds was a strong second. Even though I didn’t win anything, I’m proud of the trophies, and plan to write another day!

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Publications

I’ve submitted poetry and short fiction to various Lit Mags and Journals and have not heard back yet.

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Upcoming Events & Contests:

2024 Autumn Short Story Battle Writing Battle: Oct 20th- Oct 27th (This marks my first anniversary with Writing Battle.

2024 Writers Playground: Next Date TBD (This will be my first experience)

July’s Challenge Winner

Thank you, everyone, for submitting to last month's challenge. To recap: the prompt was “Wanderer.”

Congratulations to Salena Metreger for the win!

The winning entry is a short poem that inspires one to appreciate the small things we often take for granted and to consider the beauty within life’s tiny moments.

At face value, it’s a simple piece, and I think that’s the point.

The Walk, by Art by Vinita 

The Art of Our Walks

By Salena Metreger

I brush the mulch back into the neighbor’s yard with my foot

You tell me about the latest thing you read

I feel the warmth of the sun on my skin mingle with a gentle breeze

You tell me about a game you saw that we could play

I admire the blooming desert flowers that popped up overnight

You tell me about the call you had with your father

I engage my core and focus on using the right muscles

You tell me a story about the history of a single WWII pilot

I avoid stepping on the lines between the sidewalk blocks

You tell me about the latest project you’ve been struggling with at work

I try to decide if this is going to be a 2 or 3-lap walk

You tell me about a childhood moment that I’ve heard before

I trip and fall into you, 

Thankful you are there

You can find out more about Salena Metreger and her work at salenamvo.com

Sadhill Writing Challenge (250 Words)

Each month I’ll provide a Writing challenge encouraging fellow writers to keep writing, compete in a friendly competition, and stay creative. The winning piece will be showcased in next month’s Issue as well as any links the winner wants to share to promote their brand.

August Prompt: The Helper, The Helpless, or Helplessness.

Rules:

• Must be 250 words or less.

• Only one (1) entry per writer per monthly contest.

• Can be Poetry or Prose.

• The deadline is 11:59 PM or the end of the day on Friday, September 20th, 2024 to allow me time to update and edit.

• By entering, you agree for your work to be published in my MicroZine if chosen as the winner and stored on my Substack as content. You retain all rights to your work.

• The story does not have to include the Prompt word or phrase but must have the essence of the meaning understood somewhere in it. Metaphor and obscurity are encouraged. Finding something beautiful in darkness is even better.

• All entries must be sent to my email: ChrisSadhill@gmail.com. Please use the Subject Line: Sadhill Writing Challenge (Include the Month). You can paste the story directly in the body of the email as well as include any promotional links you want.

• This is an opportunity to showcase talent and work while cross-promoting your brand. In the future, there may be prizes awarded, but for now, there are none. I’m poor, damnit. If you have any donations, such as your books or merch you’d like to donate for me to giveaway, email me and we will make it happen.

Good Luck. See you next month!

…and don’t forget to leave a comment. I’d love to hear from you.