New Life Ashore: A Tanka

Broken hopes and dreams
Upon the beach shattered lie
By nature’s storm breath
Lucrative catches ended
Bringing a new life ashore

Padre

Inspiration Call: Week 11 March 2020 Writing Prompts: Tanka

“A Tanka is a Japanese poem and similar to a Haiku, however it has seven lines. Tankas are nature, seasons, love, and other emotions.  Line one has a five syllable count, line two is seven syllables, line three is five syllables, line four is seven syllables, and line five seven syllables. In total it has thirty one syllables.  It uses simile, metaphor, and personification.”

 

Newcomer

Woman, Portrait, Glamour, Rich, Luxury

Pixabay

Emma was perplexed.  Just yesterday she was at the height of popularity, surrounded by “friends” and sycophants.  And why shouldn’t it have been so – in fact – be so?  She was classically beautiful, with a figure to die for.  She had an impeccable dress sense, and Daddy’s money – abundant money – made it so she could always demonstrate it.  She was the belle of every ball, and her dance card was always filled.  She was, in short, perfect – beyond perfect.  So what did this new girl, Princess Helen have that she didn’t?

 

Padre

Weekend Writing Prompt #147 – Perplex in 90 words

FTS – The Basket

Image by Couleur from Pixabay

I was invited to “Finish the Story” by MELANIE B CEE.  So here it goes:

Teresa Grabs began the tale : What’s In The Basket?  

Evan and Dot woke early Easter morning, jumped out of their twin-sized beds and bolted for their bedroom door.

“Me first!” Evan said, ripping Dot’s hand off the door handle.

Dot scoffed and pulled Evan’s hand away from the door. “Nuh-uh, me first!”

In one swift motion, Evan grabbed Dot’s nightgown and pulled her to the ground. Even though they were twins, Evan had two inches and ten pounds on her. “NO! Me first!”

No sooner had he reached for the door, he began howling in pain as Dot’s teeth sank lower into his bare leg. “MOM!”

Mom and Dad rushed into their room. Evan’s face turned bright red as he spied Dad’s Superman boxers. Dad owned the situation and assumed Superman’s famous pose, glaring down at his daughter. “Dorthy Alice Cooper!”

“What have we said about biting?” Mom finished.

They were always finishing each other’s sentences. Especially when yelling at Evan or Dot.

Tears soaked Evan’s t-shirt more when Dot dug her nails into his butt when she stood.

“He started it!”

“Don’t you dare give me that, little Miss,” Mom said, wagging her finger. “You know what today is, don’t you?”

Dot nodded. “That’s why I wanted to be first.”

Evan’s eyes lit as he sneered at her. “You admit you started it. Oh my gosh! You are so going to get it!”

“Excuse me,” Dad said, gripping Evan on the shoulder. “Is that how we behave?”

Evan winced and shook his head.

“You two know what happens when little boys and girls have been mean to each other on Easter, don’t you?”

Dot and Evan looked at each other in horror. They knew alright. Everyone knew. They gulped and looked at Mom and Dad. “We’re sorry,” they said in unison.

Mom shook her head and looked at Dad who shrugged. “You know what’s going to happen if you don’t mean it. I think the Easter bunny left your basket in the living room.”

Evan and Dot bolted out the door and ran downstairs. Soon, shouts of “me first” and “you’re mean” filtered through the house. Mom sighed and Dad shrugged. “What can you do?”

Evan was the first to reach the Easter basket laden with goodies. There were eggs of all colors, chocolate coins, marshmallow bunnies, and rainbow-colored plastic grass. He slapped Dot’s hand away from his favorite colored egg and reached in to see if there was anything under the grass.

The room started spinning and all he could think of was to grab onto his sister for dear life, hoping she would save him and stop whatever was happening–she didn’t.

With a flash of light and deafening crack, Evan and Dot landed painfully on their bottoms.

Dot was the first to open her eyes. “Where are we?”


Part 2 by Di of Pensitivity101

‘You mean you don’t know?’ Evan demanded. ‘This is all your fault! I’m going to tell………… DAD!!!’
‘It’s no good calling for your parents, children.’ said a voice. ‘They can’t hear you down here.’
Rubbing her sore bottom, Dot stood up.
‘Where are you? It’s rude not to show yourself when you’re talking to somebody.’
The Smile appeared first, then big blue eyes followed by a furry face, an extraordinarily large tabby body and a forked tail.
‘The Cheshire Cat!’ Evan stated.
‘Not exactly. That’s in a parallel fairy tale, and as you can see ‘ it added waving its appendage, ‘ they got my tail completely wrong! Now then………..’
‘Oh no you don’t,’ said Dot bossily. ‘We want to know where we are and why we’re here. And where’s our basket?’
The Cat’s eyes flashed angrily, then it sighed.
‘Esther Bounie wants to meet you and……..’
‘Oh goody,’ Evan interrupted rubbing his hands in glee. ‘We get to meet the Easter Bunny for real. All that chocolate!!’
‘Er no. Esther might be a relation, but she is not the Easter Bunny at all, and certainly doesn’t like chocolate. She’s more of a ………….


Here’s Sadje’s Part:

askedimpatiently.

rabbit, isn’t it?”

” Well she is a rabbit but she is not friendly, she doesn’t like children, especially!” The cat was getting tired of this conversation and these spoiled children.

“If she doesn’t like children, why does she wants to meet us?” Evan felt that he should contribute to the conversation as well.

“She has a task. She puts sense into naughty and spoiled brats. And that description fits both of you, I believe” The words were barely out of the cat’s mouth when with a sudden whoosh an ugly looking hare appeared in the room. Both kids were startled and a bit afraid too. It looked mean and perhaps was angry too.

Dot clasped her brother’s hand and took a step back. She opened her mouth but no words came out!  Instead………..


:

Dot belched.   Her brother jumped as if goosed.   The hare (which was much bigger than a rabbit and had gray mottled fur), bared its two huge front teeth in a gruesome caricature of a grin.   

“Better out than in!”  Esther (the hare) exclaimed!   “But what awful manners you have girlie!”

Dot’s eyes filled with tears.   She was good at rousing up a few crocodile tears if she felt threatened or afraid.   And to drum up a little sympathy. 

“PHOOEY!”  spat Esther.   “Your fake tears are worse than your manners!   And I’m magical so you think that crap will fool ME?”   

Dot, shocked to her core by the exposure, stopped trying to cry and shrank back behind her brother, grateful for once that he was bigger.    Evan didn’t appreciate becoming a human shield, particularly since there was an apparently rabid animal who was TALKING F*S!   

The big hare (aka Esther) seemed to puff up until she was gigantic.   The children truly felt fear for the first time in their lives, and a growing respect.   They didn’t know what either emotion was, so they didn’t get what was happening, save they knew it was highly uncomfortable.

Esther told the children that they were going on a journey and that at the end of the journey would be a test, so they’d better pay strict attention to what happened during the journey.   Use their gray cells for something other than filling for their heads!

The big hare kicked out her powerful hind leg and a rather small door appeared in the ether.   “Come on!” commanded Esther, “Time waits for no hare nor human!”

It seemed rather doubtful that Esther would fit through the door, but she did and with room to spare.   Clearly things were not as they seemed in this place.

Dot and Evan reluctantly followed.   The cat, it shall be noted, had disappeared completely, taking its manic looking grin with it.     The trio found themselves in the midst of a huge dense forest.   

And sitting right in the middle of the path through the trees was….

 


 

My bit:

. . . a rather morose tortoise.

“Morning Esther.  See you got youself some-muer learners,”

“Well, I’m not at all sure of that,” Esther retorted, “I don’t think this pair could take a nap, much less take a hint.”

“Why that is urnfotunate,” Henry Tuttle replied, giving the children a stare that seemed to suggest that they would deserve whatever they got.  “You two a better be minding Esther, hear.  This ain’t no place to be a foolin.”

“Henry Tuttle, we are in a hurry, so I don’t have any time to waste, please move out of the way so we can pass.”

Dot turned to Evan and sniggered, as she whispered, “The turtle’s called Tuttle.”

“You know that I am not only magical, but that these big ears aren’t just for show,” the hare snapped.  That’s strike two.  Crocodile tears and sniggers.  My badness, you children won’t learn a thing, I’ll wager.  I don’t know why Cousin Bunny is even giving you a chance.”

With that, she pushed past the tortoise and snapped, “Keep up or I will just leave you here.”

It was all the children could do to follow her into the hole in a hollow tree where . . . ”

 

Padre

 

I nominate Joanne the Geek to continue the tale or to pass it on.

 

_______________________

Rules:

Teresa has started a new; Finish The Story.
First, the rules:
1) Copy and paste the story as you receive it
2) Contribute to or finish the story
3) Tag another person to continue (unless you finish it, of course)
4) Have fun!

Curiosities

 

“Why are those old books in the museum, Grandpa?”

“They are law books – books about the law, Sweetie.”

“Law books?  What’s law?”

“They are the rules we live by.  They tell people what they should and shouldn’t do.”

“But doesn’t the Great President do that for us?” the little boy asked with an expression of confusion.

“Well yes, Sweetie, but before the Great President’s father became ‘President-for-Life,’ many people worked together to make the rules.”

“That’s silly,” the child retorted.  “What if those people had different ideas?  At least now we know exactly what is right cuz the Great President tells us so.  And we don’t need lot’s of dusty books, we just need to read the Tweets.”

Grandpa took a quick look around the museum, noting the woman in the regulation black skirt-suit.  He then said in a loud but sad voice, “Exactly right Sweetie.”  Then trailed off looking down at the floor, “Exactly right.”

Padre

Sunday Photo Fiction

 

She’s Always A Woman: Lyrical Pronouns

This week Jim Adams’ Song Lyric Sunday challenge was to write about a song containing personal pronouns.  Billy Joel’s She’s Always A Woman does just that.  She, her, me, and you all feature in this 1977 hit from The Stranger album.

Lyrics
She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies
And she only reveals what she wants you to see
She hides like a child but she’s always a woman to me
She can lead you to love, she can take you or leave you
She can ask for the truth but she’ll never believe you
And she’ll take what you give her as long as it’s free
Yeah she steals like a thief but she’s always a woman to me
Oh, she takes care of herself, she can wait if she wants
She’s ahead of her time
Oh, she never gives out and she never gives in
She just changes her mind
And she’ll promise you more than the garden of Eden
Then she’ll carelessly cut you and laugh while you’re bleeding
But she brings out the best and the worst you can be
Blame it all on yourself ’cause she’s always a woman to me
Oh, she takes care of herself, she can wait if she wants
She’s ahead of her time
Oh, she never gives out and she never gives in
She just changes her mind
She is frequently kind and she’s suddenly cruel
She can do as she pleases, she’s nobody’s fool
But she can’t be convicted, she’s earned her degree
And the most she will do is throw shadows at you
But she’s always a woman to me.
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Billy Joel
She’s Always a Woman lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

 

 

Padre

Letters and Such Like

Hunter Morgan was mighty proud of the new home he had built in the Willamette Valley.   He had arrive in Oregon from Mason County only a few weeks before.  He immediately set about building the house that he would share with his new wife, Mariah, a fellow Kentuckian he had met on the Little Train on the trail.  The couple now stood before the completed structure.

“What’ja think, Riah?” the farmer asked.

“I think it’s perfect?” the eighteen year old replied, giving him a big hug.

Hunter went to the wagon that had been their home, and took a chair and carried into the house.  He then returned and carried his bride across the threshold, and sat her down on the chair, before returning to the wagon to carry in their possessions.

As he brought items in, Mariah began to assemble them, and put things away.

Hunter brought in the final chest, a straw packed box of dishes that had been given to them by Mariah’s parents.  When it was opened, they came across a framed sampler that Riah had stitched a few years before.

Though Hunter couldn’t read, he could recognise most of the letters, and especially the ones which were in his name.

“Riah darlin’, you is right clever.  I have the perfect place for this.”  With that he took the frame and placed it with pride of place above the mantelpiece. “There, now we can always see your letters and such like.”

Padre

Daily Writing Prompt

 

 

 

A Woman’s Place

photo of woman holding white and black paper bags

Photo by freestocks.org on Unsplash

A woman’s place is in the home –

Where servants bring her – her golden phone –

Amid her art, and things that glitter,

She makes business calls to the highest bidder.

Home she’s sure – is where her heart is –

And on her yacht -with a glass of chilled fizz.

A woman’s place is in the home –

When she’s not in Paris, Madrid, or Rome.

 

Padre

 

Fandango’s February Expressions #6:  A woman’s place is in the home.

 

A Kiss Amid the Flowers

Jon was not really ready to move on.  Miriam had left him to “find herself,” only six weeks ago, but his sister kept insisting that he put it behind him, and take the plunge again.  He therefore reluctantly agreed to a bind date with her colleague, Eva.

It wasn’t going to be any more awkward than it needed be, just a cup of coffee and a chat.  No planned meal with reservations, or anything.  It could be short and sweet if they didn’t hit it off.

“So how long have you been a teacher?” Jon asked.

“About three years, and I really enjoy it.  I love seeing the creativity, and expression the kids can give.  That’s what’s great about teaching art.”

“So you’re an artist?” he asked, sincerely interested.

“Yes, I guess so.  It’s kind of my passion.”

“Having passion is good,” he said – before blushing and quickly adding, “about your work I mean.”

He was now even more embarrassed and Eva took pity on him.  “So Helen tells me you are an architect.  Kind of an artist too,” she said with a wink.

“Um, yeah, but mostly just straight lines, and  – and,” he trailed off.

Eva liked the shy innocence he was showing, and changed the subject to places she had been to on holiday and the beautiful buildings she had seen.  Jon took the opportunity to overcome his momentary shyness and joined in with some travels of his own.

The conversation then fell onto Barcelona, a city they both had been to and loved.  Art, Gaudí, parks, and food were recalled and enthusiastically discussed.

“I just adore paella,” Eva was concluding when Jon noticed that they had come to be holding hands across the table.  Not only that, but two hours had passed, in what seemed mere minutes.

“Eva,” he said, “this has been really wonderful, but it’s getting kind of late.  Do you think – do you think you might like to meet me again?” He asked, reddening again.

“Of course I would,” she responded.

As the left the cafe, Jon asked if he could walk her to her car.

“That would be really lovely,” she said, “I am parked across the street, next to the park.”

Hand in hand, they crossed over and then cut a little diagonal through vivid blue flowers in the park to get to her car.

“Aren’t these just so beautiful?” she said, more as a statement than a question. “I love  turquoise.”

“Second most beautiful thing I have seen today,” he said reddening yet again,

At that, he suddenly felt the moist softness of her lips upon his.  It was exquisite.  They stood embraced, enjoying the gentle sensation of their joined lips, breathing each other’s air.  They were both sure at that moment that this was for life.

 

Padre

Inspiration Call: Write about a unique first kiss.