Mary was standing at a bus stop, minding her own business, when a stranger approached her and asked her to take off her sunglasses. She did.
“You have the most beautiful eyes,” the man said breathlessly.
“I don’t have enough change to pay your fare,” she replied.
Sighing, the stranger moved on to the next person in line, who happened to be another man. The stranger walked away three minutes later with a bloody nose.
writing prompt
Moon – 50 words
The crescent moon draws me in. Without you, I have reverted back to what I was at birth: a creature of the night. I live only in my dreams of you. By day, I waste away, a shadow of the man that existed when you, my love, made me shine.
***
From a work-in-progress.
Complicated
She knew in her heart he had another girl, but she had to to confirm it. She tried to sneak a peek at his phone, but she couldn’t get close enough. His friends would tell her nothing. Guys stick together.
So she had no choice but to go through all the profile pics of his connections on Facebook, to see if his face was there. When she hit the 2,347th “friend,” she decided to simply change her own relationship status to “It’s complicated” and ask him directly.
The one-word prompt on The Daily Post is “Complicated.”
Reach – #SoCS and The Daily Post
The cash is sitting on the table. I watch on the closed-circuit camera set-up to see if she’ll reach for it. I trust her – we’ve been together for five years. I hope she won’t do it.
Trust is essential in a relationship. It’s the one thing that will make me cut out, lack of trustworthiness.
I’m just about to get up and go back into the room when she does it. It takes her under two seconds to grab and pocket the cash.
I go to confront her: “Why did you do it?” I ask.
“Why were you watching me?” she counters.
She’s got a point.
Reach is the one-word prompt from The Daily Post.
Cash is the one-word prompt from Stream of Consciousness Saturday.
Surface Love
Your love for me is surface love. At parties you use me like a bauble, one to be pointed at and admired. In a restaurant you serve your knowledge of wine across the table and off me it bounces, volleying your admiration for yourself back at you.
But between the sheets you clothe me with confidence. You undress me with wanton passion. You gather me up and accompany me to your glory.
And in the morning… you skate away.
***
Surface is the one-word prompt on The Daily Post.
Maybe Dying
“I’m sorry, Marsha,” the doctor said as he sat back in his chair, behind his massive, expensive-looking desk. “There may be nothing I can do.”
“But… You’ve GOT to do something! I’m dying here!” Marsha gripped the arms of her own seat and lifted herself off it a few inches in agitation.
“Well let me see.” The doctor sat up, stared down his nose through his bifocals and flipped through a folder that lay on his desk. “There is something. But it’s going to take some money.”
“I’ll do anything! I’ll even go down to the bank for you myself!”
“Fine,” said the doctor. “Get me three cases of your Girl Guide cookies. I’ll give you a cheque.” He closed the folder. “Damned mothers and their little girls,” he muttered under his breath.
A Serious Joke
Pauly’s nerves threatened to cause his dinner to reappear as the tip of the knife pierced the skin on his throat.
“You couldn’t tell a joke if your life depended on it, could you?” the Master of Ceremonies asked.
Pauly should have known better than to enter Richard Bachman’s “The Funny Man” contest.
***
“Joke” is the one-word prompt on The Daily Post.
Luxury – a poem
Luxury is defined
entirely dependent
upon the beholder;
a perspective of riches.
For some luxury means
pounds of gold
and mounds of caviar
upon crackers divine.
Some see a boat
a home
or a trip
to faraway lands.
For me luxury involves
only fresh sheets
upon which to rest
my weary bones.
Painting is Hard Work
It was late December and all the elves were busy painting eggs when Santa came stomping into the factory.
“Shut down the production lines!” Santa bellowed from the middle of the floor.
“What for?” asked the grumpy foreman elf.
“The Easter Bunnies have overestimated their order again. We won’t be needing them.”
A groan went out somewhere in the back corner and from the front line, an Easter egg came rocketing through the air and hit Santa smack dab in the forehead.
Thus began the great Easter egg food fight of the century. When it was over and the last of the elves were leaving the factory after sweeping up the mess, someone commented that it was lucky the eggs were hollow, though it would have been more satisfying if they weren’t.
And that’s how Creme Eggs were invented.
***
Paint is the prompt word of the day at The Daily Post.
#SoCS – The Dog Days
I want to accept,
except accepting means
having to walk away
from having to walk
a mile in somebody else’s shoes
and let’s be honest here:
shoes don’t fit me.
I’m a dog, you see
although my owner thinks
I’m soft
I really don’t need
those rain boots she
keeps shoving on my feet
and the rain hat and cape?
Give me a break!
How does any
self-respecting dog
go out dressed like a human
and not expect
the other dogs not
to laugh?
Is that the front door?
My leash?
My… oh no, don’t tell me it’s raining…
I want to accept,
except accepting means
having to walk away
from a walk…
The shame!!
This unexpected poem is part of Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click here and join in! https://lindaghill.com/2016/08/05/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-aug-616/
Linda G. Hill 