Desert Garden

green potted plants on brown wooden table

Nguyen Dang Hoang Nhu at Unsplash

Forest of desert succulents

In a terra cotta garden formed

Oasis of the imagination

In urban spaces born

How lovely do you sit

Drawing my mind far away

Leaving behind the hectic drive

Of my email-driven day


Padre

Written for dVerse

DIY


Lars was a do-it-yourself, back-to-basics kind of guy.  In his mind, even the flat-packed Ikea projects were too “processed.”  They were, however, the best he could do on a budget. 

His kitchen finished, he needed to use the rest of his meagre resources to outfit it.  Ikea was out of the question at this stage.  Then he heard that there were some good options available at HEMA   

Did I mention that he liked “back to basics?”  Well the HEMA app definitely did that.  When he used it to find the location of the nearest branch, he found a branch indeed.  You see, the app dumped him in the middle of a forest.  

Plenty of wood.  Now that’s what I call DIY.

 

Padre

Secure

PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

The Jamesons at Number 12, stared at the delivery notice on Helen’s phone.

“It says the package has been delivered to a secure location.”

“I looked under the bench, and even behind the trash cans,” Doug said.

Helen dialed the number on the notification, and after pressing a series of prompted buttons, she finally got a human representative on the line.

“Yes, yes,” the representative said in a thick “call-centre” accent.  “Our courier has left it at Number 63.  It had very strong gates and a video camera, and your instructions clearly read, ‘If not at home leave in a secure location’.”

 

Padre

 

Friday Fictioneers

The Appearance

“So Mr. Walker,  let me see if I have this right.  You are 58 years old, and have an absolutely perfect driving record.  Not only that, but you were a driving instructor in Pennsylvania before you moved here three months ago.  But now you are charged with running not just one, but three stop signs.  I’m not sure exactly what you expect me to do here.  Can you give me a good reason for your actions?”

“Well Judge Caprio, I mean Your Honour, I moved to Providence just for this purpose.  I wanted to come before you and be famous.”

 

Padre

What Pegman Saw – Providence, Rhode Island

 

Personalised

collage of portraits of cheerful woman

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Both her mom and her boyfriend had commented on the almost predictable nature of her messages, both in emails and on social media.

“It’s almost like I can’t see the real you,” David had said.

“All you ever do is use computer-chat abbreviations and those facey-things,” Mom said a couple of days later.

It really struck her deeply.  She wanted the world, and especially her loved ones to know who she really was, and what was on her heart.  It was then that Emma White came up with the idea of her own personal Emmajis.

 

Padre

 

Photo Challenge #315

 

 

 

The Dare

Photo courtesy of Donna McNicol

“You go first,” Dal and Vi said to their youngest sibling, Hal.

“Why don’t you go Dal?  You’re the oldest,” Hal replied.

“But you’re the youngest and fastest,” Dal replied.

Hal knew that much at least was true, but was nervous all the same.

“But I’m afraid to,” Hal pleaded.

“You are always such a baby,” Vi taunted.  “I dare you to do it.”

“I double dare you,” Dal added for good measure.

“Okay, but I’m only going to do it for a minute,” Hal almost whimpered.

So with the government restrictions on outside movement finally lifted, Hal stepped out into the daylight for the first time since the crisis began.

 

Padre

 

Sunday Photo Fiction – May 3 2020

Sunday Writing Prompt “Dare”

Scavenger Hunt

Person Laying on Sofa While Reading Book

Photo by Lisa Fotios from Pexels

“Did you see that?” Lisa asked.

“See what?” Jon asked looking up from his book.

“Precisely,” she rejoined.  “I am going stir-crazy.”

“We could watch Netflix,” he suggested.

“No, I’m TVed out.”

“We could play Cluedo.” 

“No, it’s not much fun if it’s just the two of us.  Besides we played that yesterday.  I want to do something different,” Lisa said forlornly.

“Okay, you stay here in the lounge and give me let’s say twenty minutes.”

Jon took a notebook off of the desk and went into the bedroom.  A short time later he made his way to the bathroom, and then the kitchen.

“Honey, what in the world are you doing?” she called.

“You’ll see soon enough,” he replied.

Finally Jon returned and plopped down on the settee.  He then handed her the notebook, and said, “It’s a scavenger hunt.  Just follow the clues, and I’ll let you now the first one is right here in the lounge.”

Lisa looked at the words, Something Ernest.  

She looked around the room and then saw Jon smirking from behind his book.

“It’s your book, Farewell to Arms,” she said triumphantly.

“Not bad,” he said.  “Now just nineteen more to find.”

After about an hour she returned to the settee.

“Okay, I struggled a bit with the Sacrlet Brusher, I had no idea there was a spare toothbrush under the sink.  All the others were simple.  But I can’t find eighteen at all.  The only only Knotted Dough I could think of that we would have was pretzels, but I couldn’t find any.”

“Sorry,” he said brushing the crumbs from his T-shirt. “I got hungry.”

 

Padre

 

 

 

 

 

Regression

 

Photo from Morguefile

John and Meredith sat at a small table in a seaside town.

“John, Darling, can we try an experiment?” she asked.

“What do you have in mind?” he replied.

“Can we spend the afternoon like it was the olden days?” she ventured.

“Excuse me,” he said. “What do you mean?”

“We could just put down our phones and camera and do all of the usual stuff we do without them, like they did way back when.”

So for the afternoon they talked and didn’t text, made sketches rather than digital photographs, they made journal entries rather than instant tweets.

“Wow, that was amazing,” Meredith said as they headed back to the car.

“And exhausting,” John added. “I don’t know how they survived back in the 1980s.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “They had cameras back then.  It was more like the 60s.”

 

Padre

 

Sunday Photo Fiction – Aug 11 2019