SoCS Mar. 11/17 – Short

Posted on March 11, 2017 by Michael

socsbadge2016-17

My Russian cousin Angus McGrowganoff was a short man and an even shorter man when he sat down.

Standing he considered himself low, never short and took offence at any such claim.

It was true, we all agreed, he did have short man syndrome. He liked to throw his weight around and try and manipulate and stand up to anyone who had ideas of being one up on him.

He became a school Principal, a small short man in a big grown up job. In this role, he could boss people around to his heart’s content. And he did. He loved to delegate, he loved to pass the buck and make sure everyone knew whatever happened was never his fault.

Being short in stature and having a short temper worked well for him. It allowed him to shirt-front anyone who crossed him. The invasion of your personal space was a tactic he used to intimidate and bully. He was good at it.

In 1987 he married Olga Rotchabitzov a small timid woman whom I am sure didn’t know what she was getting herself into. She was a very amiable woman, she had to be to put up with Angus.

Together they lived a very short life, she left him after a short time because she couldn’t stand his petty mindedness and anal attitude to washing the dishes. Angus liked everything colour coded and in short, done his way or no way.

She claimed everything about him was short. His idea of a holiday, a day away at the beach, eating out was a short trip to the nearest restaurant and every night they had in, involved a short love-making session in which Angus would insist she sing some short ditty. It was most distracting she would say.

So Angus was left a lonely man, his career was his life, his life was his career. In short, he became short lived as they found him dead one Monday morning. So we buried him in a short coffin after a rather short service in which each eulogy was shorter than the previous one.

Written for: https://lindaghill.com/2017/03/10/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-mar-1117/

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 7 Comments

March 9: Flash Fiction Challenge – Honeymoon

Posted on March 10, 2017 by Michael

march-9

March 9, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a honeymoon story. It can be between a couple before, during or after the honeymoon. Or it can refer to a honeymoon period. Go where the prompt leads.

 

Our honeymoon occurred when the Eagles were in full flight. We had the latest CD and played it long and hard as we drove from one honeymoon destination to another.

We liked taking it easy, that notion sat well with us. At each place we stopped we’d get settled as quickly as possible, take out a beer or two and sit out front of where we were staying and watch the world go by.

We met a lot of people, we ate a lot of food, we made love every day, it was a time for cementing our marriage

 

Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2017/03/10/march-9-flash-fiction-challenge-2/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , , | 10 Comments

Thursday photo prompt – Horizon #writephoto – Woman at the water’s edge

Posted on March 10, 2017 by Michael

horizon

It’s a place to go where magic happens. When asked where it is I always say: Far from anywhere.

Across the sandhills and down through the runoff I wander focused always on the distance surf, relentlessly pounding the rocks, forever rolling in no matter high or low tide.

I met a woman there once, standing on the water’s edge, the ebbing tides circling her feet, occasionally running up her shins. She never flinched as the water is always cold in this spot.

I knew her mind was somewhere beyond the horizon, in a place I am sure she longed to be.

There was only the two of us there that day. I went and stood beside her, for no other reason that I thought I needed another human near to me.

She didn’t say anything, didn’t move away but stood there as focused as she had been from the first moment I spied her.

After a while, she turned and said, “It’s a big pond, isn’t it? Do you think on the other side there are people like us, wondering if there are people like them staring out?”

“Bound to be,” I said, “It’s what people do isn’t it. Stand at the edge of the sea and look to the horizon.”

“Yes,” she replied, “it’s a beautifully speculative thought.”

I didn’t have an answer to that statement, so I stood there beside her watching the waves do what they did with monotonous regularity.

“You come here a lot don’t you?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied, “as often as I can.”

“It lessens your pain doesn’t it, being here I mean.”

“Yes,” I replied feeling uncomfortable.

“I’m glad you do; I’ve seen you here so many times. It does me good to see you.”

At this moment I stepped back as she turned to me and I saw in her eyes the hurt of a thousand souls.

“It will get better you know. It will.”

With that, she touched my arm in such a way that I felt a surge of love go through my body. It tingled every pore of my skin such that when it ended, she had gone back over the dunes and away.

 

Written for: https://scvincent.com/2017/03/09/thursday-photo-prompt-horizon-writephoto/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , , , , | 15 Comments

Tale Weaver 9th March – Making Sense of Nonsense – The Secret Code – Heaven’s Request

Posted on March 9, 2017 by Michael

big-size-scratch-off-sticker-10-sheets-200-270mm-gold-color-blank-for-secret-code-cover_220x220

Cyril Rum, an angel on sabbatical from heaven, had found the code when he came out into his kitchen. It was under his back door inside a plain white envelope.

He knew the code, it was familiar and he wistfully thought there was no getting away from heaven was there, even on leave they had your number.

He knew a lot about codes as the angels had invented them. Well, their particular variety. It was a way to convey important messages and keep information away from the undesirables who even banished found a way back through the pearly gates.

That was the trouble with forgiveness thought Cyril, it created its own brand of slackness in that everyone was thought to be worthy of a second go. Trouble was the second go for some had been repeated many times over as he knew. Eternity could be like that he reasoned.

So here it was another note, the same as so many.

Basically, it asked the age old question what are we going to do about hell?

The problem was it was filling up faster than anyone ever imagined it might. It did have attractions the present day greedy and self-centred souls craved. Promiscuity, gambling with unlimited credit, and every form of mind hallucinating drug you could imagine just to take your mind off the hell hole you were actually in.

Cyril had seen it all first hand. Souls running around, dodging the fires of hell, their focus on the man or woman in front of them, their bits in a constant state of arousal and their appetites for all things illicit simply insatiable.

So much for the old days thought Cyril. Those were the days you poked your head into hell to get a good fix of the cries of anguished souls languishing in the cesspools and boiling mud ponds. In those days’ hell served the purpose it was designed for. Now days with hellish unions, souls that took no for an answer it had degenerated into something no one was quite sure what to do with.

The last of the message was a request to reply by earth’s sundown as decisions had to be made. Hell was after all giving heaven a bad name.

Cyril wasn’t happy about the note. He was enjoying his time away. He had made a friend in Mildred Thrup, his neighbour, he had never had a friend before, well a human one and he was enjoying the exchanges he and Mildred had while sitting in his white chairs on his back veranda. For a human being, and a woman at that, Cyril was beginning to feel attached to her, and this bothered him as he didn’t think it very proper for an angel to have anything but praise of the Lord on his mind. He was thankful as an angel he didn’t have too many human physical features to get him into very serious trouble.

So to placate those who mattered he penned a hasty reply in code of course:

 

54$&HgrV YV 8839o90- 54EJ Ue

 

Translated meant: I am sure in your infinite wisdom you will make a sound judgement and all souls will sing further to your eternal glory.

 

Cyril knew a little praise went a long way with his immediate superior. So sealing it up in the envelope in which the note came he placed it on the second of his chairs out eh back and prepared for his day. Mildred Thrup was coming for morning tea, and then they were off to bingo. Cyril liked the thought of bingo, it was a game of chance and something he was sure heaven would never have invented.

 

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/03/09/tale-weaver-9th-march-making-sense-of-nonsense-the-secret-code/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

100 Word Wednesday: Week 9 – Cloris

Posted on March 8, 2017 by Michael

100ww_w9

Image Credit: Toa Heftiba

Wearing her favourite knitted beanie, Cloris spied through the bush her boyfriend, Roger having an illicit affair with the town hussy, Annie Slackster.

Cloris had suspected Roger for some time. The lipstick on his collar, the perfume on his clothes all gave her reason to believe Roger was up to no good. Now she had proof.

With her camera, she snapped off enough shots to bring to his attention when he came for dinner later that night.

She’d put it to him and then take it from him. He’d be out of action for some time she knew. She smiled.

 

Written for: https://bikurgurl.com/2017/03/08/100-word-wednesday-week-7-2/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , , | 6 Comments

Whiteout Wednesdays #6

Posted on March 8, 2017 by Michael

  Reply  

love
And truth
pretty pleasures
To live with

Time  flocks
When rivers rage
And   dumb;
complains

flowers   fade,
reckoning yields:
a heart of gall,
sorrow’s fall.

beds of roses,
posies,
soon forgotten,
in reason rotten.

belt
clasps and amber studs,–
can move
to thee   thy Love.

youth
Had joys

delights my mind
To live with thee

 

Original text:

Her Reply by Sir Walter Raleigh

If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd’s tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy Love.

But Time drives flocks from field to fold;
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold;
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complains of cares to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward Winter reckoning yields:
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy’s spring, but sorrow’s fall.

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,
Soon break, soon wither–soon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

Thy belt of straw and ivy-buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs,–
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy Love.

But could youth last, and love still breed,
Had joys no date, nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy Love.

 

Written for: https://blackcatalleyblog.wordpress.com/2017/03/08/whiteout-wednesdays-6/

 

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments

Wordle #145 “March 6th, 2017″ An Exotic Holiday

Posted on March 7, 2017 by Michael

week-145

This week’s words: Crescent  Exotic Ledge Longanimity ((n.) patient endurance of hardship, injuries, or offense; forbearance.) Filter Stew Pasty Afflatus ((n.) inspiration; an impelling mental force acting from within. Divine communication of knowledge.) Emerald Jailer Cringe Noise

 

At last on an exotic beach with all thought of longanimity far behind him, he settled down to enjoy a long awaited island speciality of flathead stew.

The hardship of life had taken its toll on him. His pasty looking face often suggested a state of death warmed up. Longanimity had meant he had spent so much of his life at the school of hard knocks and it had been a moment of afflatus, that was at the time likened to Paul on the road to Damascus, that turned around his life.

He was able to extract himself from the ledge overlooking impending doom, gather himself together and make a fist of a life that seemed destined to be a series of longanimated episodes each in their own way like a jailor to be dealt with as harshly as possible.

So now he sat at a table in a restaurant on the most exotic of islands, resplendent in his emerald coloured shirt with the crescent shaped butterfly wings adorning it, as just another customer, anonymous amidst the noise of happy holiday makers, none cringing from the knowledge that among them sat the enigma that he was, on the one hand, a longanimatist and on the other an afflatus who knew that in a short time from now having filtered through all the revelations that had recently come his way a rather large and destructive tsunami would strike the island bring with it massive devastation.

But not he knew until after he had finished his filtered coffee, brushed his teeth and climbed to the top of the highest peak on the island. He wondered if he should tell anyone and the thought stewed in his mind.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/03/06/wordle-145-march-6th-2017%e2%80%b3/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , , , | 7 Comments

Twittering Tale #20 – 7 March 2017

Posted on March 7, 2017 by Michael

img_7408

I carried it around the world, through every customs place imaginable, and as fate would have it, I dropped it out of the box at home. Ugh!

Written for: https://katmyrman.com/2017/03/07/twittering-tales-20-6-march-2017/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , , | 17 Comments

Sunday Strange microfiction prompt – The Hanson Twins

Posted on March 5, 2017 by Michael

771px-hans_thoma_-_frucc88hlingsmelodie_1914

Image: Hans Thoma

It was a terrible shock when the Hanson twins were killed by the monitor lizard. The family were on holiday, and it was all over in seconds.

Needless to say, the lizard suffered an inglorious death, and all three turned up at the pearly gates awaiting ‘judgement’ and delivery.

The children in death were as fascinated by the lizard as they were when alive and the lizard suddenly aware of a change in its circumstances puzzled over why it was standing there surrounded by creatures with wings and the eternal racket of hymn singing.

Being the innocents, they were it was decided, by those who know these things, that the best place for them would be heaven. The lizard looked forlorn when the children were admitted, and they asked if the lizard could come with them as they knew it had no friends anywhere, but with them.

Heaven, of course, was a place where if you weren’t into endless hymn singing, eternity for you wasn’t going to be all you hoped for.

The children being children weren’t very interested in hymn singing or finding ways to heap eternal praise on the God who had created and allowed them in. Rather they were more interested in their new friend and pet. They spent a lot of their time wandering around trying to see what there was for a very large lizard to eat.

The lizard being carnivorous presented a problem as heaven was not renowned for its supply of game or anything that resembled meat save the curious ham sandwiches which seemed to appear at the oddest times. The sandwiches were very good, and everyone enjoyed them but occasionally there were cries of “Where can I get a decent sushi?” These queries were always answered in hush tones of, ‘Down there, was where you’d have to go.” So after much rolling of the eyes, it became clear that no one would take up the suggestion but simply spend their eternity craving what they knew was there but out of reach.

The lizard, of course, discovered the ham sandwich was a delicious everyone else said and devoured many. It grew to like the life in heaven. Its primal urge to eat the children was satisfied by the constant supply of ham sandwiches, and so it found following them around all day and indulging in their desire to please it was as close to heaven as a predator such as it was could hope for.

Each week the children along with the lizard attended harp lessons given by the Angel Harpie. He was very good and was happy to have the children stand around and watch him play as he quickly learned the children were not in the least interested in the holy harp and were tone deaf to boot.

And so as eternity tends to do, it stretched out in front of the children, who were happy to play with their lizard who in turn was happy to play with the children rather than eat them.

Written for: https://janedougherty.wordpress.com/2017/03/05/sunday-strange-microfiction-prompt/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , | 18 Comments

Saturday Mix — Lorraine 04.03.17 – Fenson

Posted on March 4, 2017 by Michael

dscn2765-e1485720789960

Image picture: © Lorraine 2017

Write a piece of flash fiction 25 to 150 words from the dog’s perspective. What is going on in the little, sad looking pug’s mind?

You think I’m ugly, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes that look of pity for the little tiny mutt.

My owner, Rosy, thinks I’m beautiful. She tells me every day. She says, “Fenson she says, you are the most beautiful dog in the whole world.”

Then she cuddles me, brushes my coat and feeds me the most delicious doggy biscuits. Lemon, Lime and Bitters she sprinkles over the top, and man is that a good dinner.

I know I’m spoilt, but I’m not complaining. I also know there are better-looking dogs. That little Tessa who hangs around the park. Wow, but is she something. She’s a Yorkie, is small, petite and such a honey. Never get tired of sniffing her sweet little butt.

Now I gotta go, Rosy is calling me, says she needs some Fenson love. So who am I to deny her.

 

Written for; https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/03/04/saturday-mix-lorraine-04-03-17/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , , , | 12 Comments