Flash Fiction, Random Rants, tutto e niente

Who’s Counting

Three days. It had been three days since they delivered the box. Technically, three days, four hours, and 37 minutes. But who’s counting.

She knew he was there. The gate squeaked. It had been over two weeks since he’d left. Technically 15 days, three hours, and 22 minutes. But who’s counting.

Or 14 days, 21 hours, and 13 minutes since he’d returned. Drunk, sunburned, screaming multiple profanities at her window. But who’s counting.

Maybe he’s dead. Like Benjamin. And Lila. One more makes 213,323. But who’s counting.

Alone. Still. 197 days, three hours, and 23 minutes. But who’s counting.

(99 words. But who’s counting.)

the-gate

PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

Thanks to Rochelle and her Friday Fictioners Challenge.

Channeling my negative energy into words. At least I’m writing. UGH!

Flash Fiction, Haiku & Other Poetry, tutto e niente

his first barber

boy sitting trimmed by man holding scissor
Photo by Thgusstavo Santana on Pexels.com

no more comic books

or picturing his first shave

no more sneaking drinks

or pretending not to hear

two ten main street is no more

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Thanks to Fandango for the thought-provoking photo. It reminded me of the sad Covid-19 reality that some things may never come back. Not sure why my mind went to barbershops, but … it did. So here’s my story that’s also a poem or poem that’s also a story? You get the idea!

Stay safe! Where a mask. Be a kind human person. We’re all going thought something.

Haiku & Other Poetry, tutto e niente

trampled

disguised by deceit  

as they race for the dollar

unmoved by our pain

18mag-trump-superJumbo

Photo Illustration by Erik Carter

Thanks to Ronovan Writes for today’s haiku challenge. Our words were cloak (for which I substituted disguised) and race. The challenge inspired me but the opinions are my own. And my apologies to elephants everywhere. They are smart and very empathetic creatures. They deserve better than to be linked to the orange one and his minions.

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Haiku & Other Poetry, tutto e niente

love in the time of covid-19

as the world transforms

two minds and two hearts connect

synchronicity

beverage break breakfast brown
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Thanks to Colleen. This week’s challenge required a poem using synonyms only for the word prompts of transition and harmony so I substituted in transforms and synchronicity. Head over to her page for details and some great writing.

History, Random Rants, tutto e niente

Is that wallpaper moving or have murder hornets invaded (my mind)?!

Today, Fandango asks us to consider whether we think it’s premature for states to be lifting the stay-at-home, shelter-in-place, and social distancing restrictions? Or do you believe that it’s about time they were rescinded? Once they are removed, how quickly are you likely to resume living your life as you did in the pre-pandemic days?

Short answers:

YES!

NO!

Uhhhh … never?  

Read on for longer and possibly less coherent answers.

It might not be the best day for me to tackle provocative questions. Thanks to Susie Dent (@susie_dent over on Twitter) I now know that I am crapulent (decidedly hung over) AND (as confirmed by my mirror) crambazzled (prematurely aged from too much drink/food …).

covers_yellow-wallpaper

This self-diagnosis may explain my fuzzy vision and the buzzing in my head but these symptoms might also be a by-product of my anger/despair.

OR … NEWS FLASH the murder hornets have invaded!!

Seriously folks, I know I’m not the first to make this observation but the murder hornet thing is just one step too far! Giant insects that decapitate bees and then feed the bee’s thorax to their young! It’s too much. Haven’t bees suffered enough!? Or maybe it’s not just about the bees. Maybe Mother Earth decided that her quest to remove the worst invasive species of all (us) isn’t moving fast enough; thus the plague and the hornets.

But I digress … I was considering Fandango’s Provocative Questions and I promise this rambling screed will circle back to those questions!

I’m a writer. Normally, I write to earn money. But I also write for fun and catharsis and clarity … but lately (as in 55 days and counting), I’m struggling.

As Charlotte Perkins Gilman* noted:

Personally, I believe that congenial work, with excitement and change, would do me good.

But what is one to do?

I did write for a while in spite of them; but it does exhaust me a good deal—having to be so sly about it, or else meet with heavy opposition.

I sometimes fancy that in my condition if I had less opposition and more society and stimulus—but John says the very worst thing I can do is to think about my condition, and I confess it always makes me feel bad.

 I also want to “believe that congenial work, with excitement and change, would do me good” but I also know that those things could possibly kill me (or vice versa). Also, like Ms. Gilman’s tortured protagonist, every effort I make to write exhausts me. And to make matters worse, much of my “heavy opposition” seems to be coming from inside the house!

The “house” being the inside my own mind.

Luckily (HA! Sarcasm alert) my job I is on a “pause” so I don’t have deadlines but instead of using this time to work on my own stuff, I spend enormous amounts of time scrolling social media and ranting. Then I nap. I’m even struggling to maintain the concentration needed to read, so I’m re-reading old favorites instead of tackling my “to-read” pile. This strategy is what brought me back to an old school fave, Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper. As I re-read it, many of the passages resonated.

We have been here two weeks [or six plus weeks], and I haven’t felt like writing before, since that first day. 

I am sitting by the window now, up in this atrocious nursery, and there is nothing to hinder my writing as much as I please, save lack of strength. 

I think sometimes that if I were only well enough to write a little it would relieve the press of ideas and rest me.

But I find I get pretty tired when I try.

It is so discouraging not to have any advice and companionship about my work. 

I don’t feel as if it was worth while to turn my hand over for anything, and I’m getting dreadfully fretful and querulous.

I cry at nothing, and cry most of the time. 

  It makes me tired to follow it. I will take a nap, I guess.

So … my point is that (like many many people) I am desperate to get out of the house and return to my life.

To write. To dine out. To sit on a patio and have a glass of wine and watch the world go by. To wander around Target aimlessly for hours. TO BE!!!

But! But but but …SCIENCE!!!

The numbers continue to rise and we have insufficient testing. A vaccine is far in the future and we (as in the U.S.) are suffering under the so-called leadership of an incompetent and uncaring administration. As Gilman put it, I would “as soon put fire-works in my pillow-case as to let me have those stimulating people about now.” So, I’ll be staying in even though my state is beginning to “restart.

I hope I’m wrong. I hope that we don’t see a big spike in three to six weeks. But again … SCIENCE!

So, in conclusion, if a Real Genius tells me it’s OK then I’d consider reentering the world but as long as we’re stuck with the so-called “stable genius” I’m staying home!

Plus, murder hornets!

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*On a side note, reading Gilman’s work today, brought Reena’s Exploration Challenge to use the phrase “outlasting the fickleness of fame” to mind. Like many figures from the past, Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s legacy is not straightforward. She is considered by many to be a feminist icon but her views on race are (to put it mildly) deeply problematic. So while I appreciate both her writing and her progressive ideas about women’s roles, her notion that some African Americans belonged in a system of enforced labor cannot be ignored. Some would argue that reassessing her legacy is “revisionist” and insist that historical figures should be allowed to “outlast the fickleness of fame.” We’re not supposed to dwell on the parts that might damage their (our) “exceptional” status. Nope. Charlotte Perkins Gilman is not Paris Hilton and interpreting her legacy in a truthful manner is more important than maintaining some a static idea of fame.

Real History: That’s Hot!

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