2016 was an extremely good year. The mansion in which I lived included a butler, a maid, three cooks and a gardener. Fortunately they lasted two months each. And every one of them was more delicious than the last.
It’s Just Jot It January! Click here and join in any time!
William was going to die. Everyone knew it, but most of all, William knew it. While he was still able to get around he decided to go to his lawyer (who was also a close friend) to make his final arrangements. The lawyer promised William he would gather together all of William’s relatives when the time came.
William’s most prized possession was his dachshund. The dog had a mind of its own and William admired it. He called the dog Willie in a vain attempt to be more like the animal. He decided to leave Willie with his eldest son, William the Second. There was, however, a clause which stated that his son would have to actually want the dog. Otherwise Willie was to be placed elsewhere.
Soon after William’s trip to the lawyer, William died. As promised, the lawyer gathered everyone together. This was what he said to the family:
In Will’s will, Will willed Willie, the willful dachshund, to William. Should William be willing, Willie the willful will henceforth reside with William.
William’s will went uncontested and Willie and William the Second lived happily ever after. Except that time William’s wife Winifred sat on Willie because Willie wouldn’t move off the sofa.
It’s Just Jot It January! Click here and join in any time!
She regretted jumping in to the January lake the moment her feet touched the water. From there the cold rushed up her body like a train, speeding uncontrollably along a track. Completely submerged, her long hair floated above her head, reaching for the frigid air above. Then blackness surrounded her, and she knew no more.
She awoke with a gasp. That damned dream again. There were many things in her life she regretted but none more than that stupid polar bear dip her boyfriend in college had talked her into. Stupid, stupid Canadian tradition.
It’s Just Jot It January! Click here and join in any time!
Suspended mid romp
paws pause to slumber and yet
dreams twitch them beyond
The “pause/paws” prompt is brought to you by Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click here to join in today!
And also running right now is Just Jot It January! Click to join in any time!
“Persnickety Clickit.”
No, that’s not it.
“Lickety Splicket.”
Not that either.
“Jiminy Cricket!”
No!
“Lemony Snicket?”
Ah ha!
It’s Just Jot It January! Click here and join in any time!
Come in
See what’s in store
for your amusement
come through the door
take all your money
place it right here
you know your friends want it
even more than a beer
Our wares are to die for
just look at them there
a ripped away pocket
a thin lock of hair
More juicy and flea ridden
I think you’ll agree
The moth-eaten clothing
Is better than free
So buy with abandon
Take home what you need
Your friends will be gleeful
For the free-for-all feed!
This mess has been brought to you by Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click this link http://lindaghill.com/2015/12/18/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-dec-1915/ and join in today!
having the Dickens of a time
with chipped nail polish
of a night in
crazed expectation
It’s always been in me.
This blackness,
this lust for the taste of the blood of innocents,
of those with whom I fall in love
And I fall so easily.
It takes naught but the glimpse of a fair lip bitten,
‘tween teeth so small and delicate,
or the scent of a drop of milk without a tongue to lick it,
or the hitch of breath; a sob of grief and what am I to do?
I am not made of stone.
I give and I give and I give and then I take…
And then I am again left alone,
to dine upon my hopeless sorrow.
Why oh why can I not just stop
this endless circle of pain and love and misery?
Mr. Strange was the normalest person he himself knew. He shaved every morning and put on his suit and went to work as an accountant in a perfectly normal firm downtown. He drove a Lexus and he lived in a three bedroom bungalow by himself with his dog and his cat and his three fish. The bodies buried in the basement didn’t count as other people. They were corpses.
***
Miss Harper enjoyed the company of Mr. Strange very much. She was a secretary at the firm in which he worked. She lived downtown a few blocks from the company in an apartment on the fifth floor. She didn’t drive, but she had admired Mr. Strange’s Lexus and even said so once. She was hoping he would invite her out to dinner.
***
Mr. Tarvell was Mr. Strange’s boss. He always thought there was something odd about Mr. Strange, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He knew his secretary, Miss Harper, had a “thing” for Mr. Strange and he wanted to say something but he didn’t quite know how.
***
Mr. Strange’s dog wouldn’t stop trying to get into the basement. He thought about giving the dog to Miss Harper, the secretary at work. She seemed lonely. Perhaps he would invite her over.
***
Miss Harper’s first visit to Mr. Strange’s house was an event that surpassed every event that she had ever had in her life. On the outside, Mr. Strange was a kind man. Gentle, it seemed. In fact he was the normalest man she had ever had the pleasure of working with. However, they had barely started into dessert when he swooped everything off the table, the table cloth included, and crawled over to her and kissed her passionately. They never made it to the bedroom. He made love to her under the dining room table, her head banging on one of the chair legs each time he thrust into her. She took a taxi home. She couldn’t wait to see him again.
***
Mr. Tarvell noticed a strange smell on Miss Harper’s clothes the next day. It seemed, somehow, that she had gotten moldy. Like she had spent the night in the refrigerator, cuddled up to a basket of rotting strawberries. He didn’t want to say anything lest it seem rude.
***
Mr. Strange was the normalest person he himself knew. That he would soon require a bigger basement meant that he would also probably need a new job. A better paying job. A job in a town where no one knew him. Leaving his present house to the dog seemed the wisest choice he had made in quite some time.
This post is part of Stream of Consciousness Saturday. It’s only late if you insist on changing the clocks at 2am… http://lindaghill.com/2015/10/30/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-oct-3115/
Pulling
Pushing
Manipulating me and yet you seem to sit centered
Unmoving
Smiling
With your magnifying glass like a student of ant life
Studying
Probing
My mind for ways to tease and torture while I’m
Running
Avoiding
Your sunbeam prism ray
Scorching
Searching
For the best way to leave me
Pleading
Pleasing
Or trying my best to because you bring out the
Begging
Simpering
Bitch in me with your
Pushing
Pulling
Stream of Consciousness Saturday is brought to you by me, here: http://lindaghill.com/2015/10/09/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-oct-1015/ Check it out!
Linda G. Hill 