your little cut-out paper heart
that i found one unsuspecting day
on a crowded street
mine
all ecstatically mine
took home to delve,
to memorize
to understand …
your tiny vulnerable soul
that i constructed
and nourished
and lived and dreamed with unceasingly …
who knew
we’d end up
bleeding
?
i withstand your pain
and you mine
perhaps that’s why i found you
no mistake
it is why
The lights are flashing. I see them up ahead even without my headlights. Do I pull a solo Thelma and Louise? I have about fifteen seconds to make up my mind.
They say your life flashes before your eyes. Mine would take a week. All the booze, drugs, sex, and
Today’s Just Jot It January prompt, “Warning,” was kindly suggested by Dan Antion. You can visit him here: https://nofacilities.com/
Just Jot It January can be found here: https://lindaghill.com/2017/01/03/jusjojan-daily-prompt-jan-3rd17/ Click the link and join in any time!
…continued from here…
“Oh! You’re here today. I’m so happy to discover you’re still alive.”
“Why wouldn’t I be, Dr. Spiers?”
“I had this very odd dream that you’d died in all kinds of ways. And that we’d been having a… well, a tryst, you might say.”
“Doctor!”
“I’m sorry, my dear. Was that inappropriate? Truly, please forgive me.”
“No, that’s all right. I had a similar dream. Say, would you like to go out for a drink later?”
“Ahem. I’m not sure my wife would appreciate that. Why don’t we get on with our first appointment. Shall we?”
“Okay. Mrs. Horner is coming in again this morning.”
“Is she having her teeth replaced?”
“That’s right.”
“And did you put them all in the right order?”
“What… order? They’re a pair of false teeth.”
“Just checking.”
…continued from here…
“I’ll start by saying I’ve never been to a psychiatrist before. I know you told me I should just talk, but feel free to interject any time. No? All right then. I’ll go ahead.
“I think part of why I’ve chased away three patients this week is my enthusiasm for my job. I love dentistry. There’s nothing quite like getting right in there with my instruments and rearranging people’s smiles. Did you know one time I removed all of a lady’s teeth–bad gums, she had to have them out–and then instead of giving her dentures, I kept them and sewed them all back in a week later? She would have been happy, except I got mixed up and put the top ones on the bottom and the bottom ones on the top. Well, I was excited. She just couldn’t see the beauty in it.
“I should probably mention that I may have lost a patient or two this week because I no longer have an assistant. Terrible thing happened. She died on the job. Accidentally slit her femoral artery when a man whose teeth she was cleaning swatted her hand away. I might have been able to stop the bleeding, except my secretary was off and I was waiting for the last patient’s credit card to go through.
“Ah, the life of a dentist. You must hear stories like this all the time…”
…continued here…
She accuses me all the time of being moody. I’ll show her.
The mood is set. The candles are lit around the steaming, lavender-scented bath, the wine is poured, and the dinner is warming, ready for when she gets out. I’m already in the bath waiting for her to come ho…
There she is! I hear her key in the door! And… who’s she talking to? She brought her good-looking boss home again?
She thought I was moody before! I’ll show her!
“Billy, you can’t give a mystical answer to a math question.”
“But Mr. Johnson, what if the center point of the circumference of ‘A’ did intersect with the center of the universe?”
“Then, Billy, we’d all be obliterated.”
“Exac…”
THE END
Author’s note: My proficiency in Grade 11 math eludes me. But my grammar is up to par…
I can’t bear to abide by the rules of love. Why is it, for instance, insisted that love go both ways? Or that we must have met in the flesh? I can love you simply because I know you. I’ve heard your songs and I know you wrote them for me. They speak to my heart. They bare your soul to me, just as though you were here, on your knees, singing to me.
Why should I suppress my everlasting love for you? I shall lay down my life for you, if you ask.
You hear me, don’t you?
This piece of Stream of Consciousness fiction is part of SoCS. Click the link to read more posts, and join in, too! https://lindaghill.com/2016/12/09/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-dec-1016/
“It’s missing something,” Samantha said as she drew the spoon away from her lips and stirred the pot again.
Petra frowned at her. “Did you remember the eye of newt?”
“Of course! It’s the main ingredient.”
“How about the toad toes?”
Samantha snorted. “They were a pain in the ass. Picking all those tiny nails off?”
“You didn’t have to, you know.”
“Normally not. But the little buggers had been to the salon. I didn’t want nail polish in the brew.”
Petra pointed her own sharply filed nail at her friend and winked. “Good thinking.”
“What else might I be missing?”
“No clue. This is what you get for not writing down the recipe when Zelda was still alive.”
“That’s it! She always used to cry a tear into it. What are we going to do?”
Petra squinted. “I think I can squeeze a tear out.”
“No!” Samantha cried. “Zelda was a virgin. That’s the whole purpose behind this concoction. To help us become born-again virgins, so we can experience having our cherries popped again.”
“Right. So who do we know who’s a virgin. Oh, I know! That Jimmie brat down the street. I’d like to make him cry for digging my asparagus up last spring.”
“Let’s go get him!”
***
Three months later…
“I think all we’re missing is the last ingredient,” Samantha said as she drew the spoon away from her lips and stirred the pot again.
“Excellent. Little Suzie’s just waking up.”
“Can’t wait to get rid of this penis.”
“Nope,” Petra said, scratching her balls. “Me neither.”
How doth one protesteth a petty injustice, when one’s very sustenance is at stake?
“Mummy? Whilst thou giveth me mine cookie?”
Ah, to babble, perchance to speak? Perhaps whence mine age becometh two.
“It’s the newest thing in weaponry and I got it right here. You, Sir! You! Yes, you. Come on over and see the best new thing money can buy. It’s the Arro-Matic. You hold the bow just so and fit the arrow right here and pull the trigger. Here, why don’t you try it?”
“Hey, that looks pretty good. But how does it smell?”
“Smell? What do you mean ‘smell’? This here’s a state-of-the-art weapon. Money can’t buy anything better than this. Why in God’s name do you want it to smell?”
“What did you say it was called?”
“The Arro-Matic! Best darned bow and arrow you can get.”
“Arro-Matic. Arro-Matic…”
“Sir, I’m not getting your drift.”
“False advertising, that’s what that is.”
“Sir, I think you should just move on. And don’t be calling me a stinking salesman!”
Linda G. Hill 