Happy Acres

“It looks like a nice place,” Hannah said as she stood with her husband, Jessie, before the gates at the end of a long, dusty driveway.

“The sign is a bit old.”

She stepped in front of him to take a closer look. “The Happiest Place In Town,” she read out loud. “I don’t know if I’d go that far,” she said to Jessie. “But maybe it’ll be appropriate.”

“Do you really think my dad will do well here?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll ask him.”

They walked together to the car and spoke to the man inside through the open window.

“We think it’s the right place,” Jessie said to his father.

“Do they have hookers?”

“Wait, I’ll check,” said Hannah. She trotted back to the sign and read it silently, then returned to the car.

“The best hookers in town, the sign says.”

“Well what are we waiting for?” asked Jessie’s father. “Let’s go get ’em!”

And that’s how, with Hannah’s help, Jessie got his father into a nursing home.

Toenail, A Haiku

minion drowning in paper towel

You’re like a hangnail
Dangling by a nerve in-shoe
You make me lamer

#SoCS – An Underestimation

“Uh, Sir, I think you underestimate me.”

“Do you really think so, Johnson? I mean, look at your record. Just last week you picked up three dead raccoons, twenty squirrels, and four crows. Your contemporaries doubled that!”

“But you forget that they are in the city. You have me out doing the rural routes.”

“Where there should be more roadkill!”

“But…”

“But what, Johnson?”

“But what about the moose?”

“There was a moose?”

“Yeah. Just last week. Didn’t Davis tell you?”

“It’s the first I’ve heard. Did you pick it up all by yourself?”

“Yes, Sir. I did.”

“What did you do with it?”

“It’s been your lunch, Sir, for the last three days.”

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This post is part of both The Daily Post and Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click the links to find the prompts!

sleepy

as i climb the stairs
for the umpteenth time,
i wish just once
there was someone who
could carry me there,
to tuck me in
to kiss my brow
and turn off the light
and say, it’ll be all right
just sleep and i’ll
take care of all.
but when i awake
after a long night’s slumber
i open my eyes to find
everything is the same.

Survival

“You can only survive for twenty-four hours without a drink.”

“Nuh-uh! You’ll die in fif… I mean twelve.”

“Nuh-uh! My dad told me it was a whole day!”

“Wanna bet?”

“Sure!”

“Okay. Don’t have a drink for the rest of the day and see if you wake up tomorrow.”

“…I’m thirsty.”

“Me too. Let’s go to my place. My mom made Kool-Aid.”

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/survival/

loss of self

does it matter
that you don’t care?
should i reject you
for my self-esteem’s sake?
you’re so beautiful
i feel privileged
just to be noticed
by the likes of you
let alone to lie with you,
to hear your most private moans.
i think of all the girls
who would be so envious
should i have the freedom
to tell…
but your wife
can never find out
so i must keep silent
and it’s just as well
our private time
is just for us
is it not?
was that me you spoke of
to your friend?
i hope not

does it matter
that i don’t matter
or do i?
i daren’t ask

The Chronicles of Mary, Part 3 – a 50 word story

Today, Mary’s boss called her into his office for a “meeting.” His “meetings” usually consist of a reprimand and an offer of a date. This “meeting” was no different, except that he also asked Frank from accounting to come in. Turns out Frank wanted a date with Mary.

Mary accepted.

procrastination

the handiwork of the devil
the condition which designed
textspeak
emojis
put off essays
and eternally drafted plots

and what of the characters
who appear just to die
like the big-boobed blond
in a horror show
without even the benefit
of the scream-and-jiggle eye-candy moment

the writer’s game
is housecleaning heaven
and plodding trips to the cupbaord
when all he needs
is a shower to bring them all to life
a clean start to throw away
beelzebub with the bath water

Happy Children’s Day

“Happy Children’s Day,” said the mother to her son on Mother’s Day morning.

“What do you mean?” asked the son.

“If I’ve done my job right,” explained the mother, “you will derive more pleasure from spoiling me than I will for being spoiled.”

The son smiled, “You’re right, Mummy! Please enjoy your sardine pancakes. I brought syrup, too!”

#SoCS – apparent

from musty halls with creak-loud benches
we kneel and pray
and watch through stained-
glass windows
the rain patter
as the voices rise
and weep and mourn
for days of rejoicing
not long past

but apparent is not so true…

the glass once stained with
steady hand and careful grace
no longer holds its colour

for the stain consists
of war-torn souls
and the rain
is the tears
of children orphaned
and the benches creak
under the weight
of ghosts

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Stream of Consciousness Saturday: https://lindaghill.com/2016/05/06/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-may-716/