Bad Omens From The Sky
My day is hurting me, Sally said to her brother Ned, who looked with compassionate eyes on his sister’s plight. Why don’t you throw some rocks in the pond for catharsis, said Ned in thoughtful kindness. So she picked up the biggest she could find and lobbed it into the water.
Autumnal Ownership
“Today is the first day of Autumn,” I say to you, hoping you don’t have glue on your shoe. For then all the leaves littering the yard and road would get stuck on you, and you might turn into a Leaf Man, indistinguishable from the compost we so lovingly grow for the garden. Leaf mold is awfully good for one’s plants, but I don’t want to plant them in you. You’re mine.
Wichard
Following feathers wisped in wind unruly, Wichard watched for season’s end in random acts of beauty. Having been diagnosed with chronic listlessness, he thought it appropriate, nay poetic, to spend his last days chasing after unattainable glory in the perhaps mundane.
All Vacations Must End
Singing whilst whistling summoned brightest thoughts from the lady on her last day of summer vacation. She would remember the day as it was, as it should be, rather than whine that it must end. Undo appropriation of gloomy thoughts would ruin the day, be it rainy or not, she thought wisely. We shan’t do that. No no. We shan’t do that.
FFFFound Me?
Whilst glancing at her neighbor’s very own picture archives on the coveted FFFFound website, Ella elated to obtain her own. It’s bad to covet, she knew this well, but couldn’t help her awe-struck wonderful desire of a place to gather images of random, perhaps attainable, at least visit-able beauty––a virtual scrapbook, without the photo corners or corny stickers, sparse and Swiss-inspired. Hers would have mid-century, fashion-forward, green elegance and urbanity for which to cherish and aspire. Someday…
Igloo Midgies
There is an igloo on the desk says the woman in the purple dress, sitting at the computer in the morning. She thought it a kind of warning that her thoughts had turned to luring her to declare the mundane and obvious before her. For her mother had declared when she was losing her hair that the midgies were attacking her own scalp. “Everyone knows that’s what midgies do…” the woman had wondered at her mother’s apparent summation. Two weeks later the old lady was taken to the loony bin and sorted among the others of her kind. The woman remembered this and turned her thoughts from igloos to imaginary beaches.
Flour Tower
The shower was as white as the tower of the local flour mill, ironically where it got its power. What do flour and water have to do with each other, one might ask? Well, Winston the superintendent of the flour mill was waiting to tell. “Flour gives power from the kinetic energy produced by smashing grain to dust. And different grains give off different levels of energy. Barley, for instance, produces greater energy than wheat due to the sheer husk of the grain. It’s tougher to open.” White-robed Winston walked about the flour mill seeking somewhat-willing listeners for his spiel.
Red White Black
She had a messy dress,” she jests to Chester, the man who questioned her motives for pouring flour on her lap. She always spoke of herself in the third person now, a habit she took up to lessen the pain of accepting responsibility for her actions. The ketchup she spilled on her white dress while attempting to drown a fly seemed less obvious doused in flour. She liked to pretend it happened to someone else.
“Voice” by Rives
His poems are inspirational.
Westley
“Do you see the hinges?!” cried Westley, the hinge-repair-salesman. He was selling his wares whilst wearing his sales and shouting to unsuspecting passers-by. They looked at him in disbelief, continuing to watch out of the corner of their eyes as they walked past Westley, praising the virtues of a well-worn hinge, properly made to withstand the times. For three easy payments of $19.95 he would sell you his special WD-40 alternative, purported to extend the life of any antique hinge indefinitely, or he would sell you his soul too.
