Judith and Claire
A curious pair
When told to share
A single eclair
One rose from her chair
The other did stare
“What would be most fair
To share this eclair?”
Said Judith to Claire.
“Cut the thing there?”
“No, Judith,” said Claire.
“If you’d compare
The halves cut from there,
One’s sizeable fare
While this one is spare.”
She pointed with flair.
“Let’s cut the thing there!”
“We can’t cut it there!
That cut is not square.”
Harsh words filled the air.
There was pulling of hair.
Such an awful loud scare.
They never did share.
That single eclair.
Category: My stories
When The Ghost
See this chair?
Yeah, it’s a pretty nice chair.
I still think of this chair as being her chair.
Even though she’s no longer here, it’s still her chair.
And, I suppose, it’s a whole new chair.
The old chair broke a while back. But it’s still hers.
And, I guess, the new chair didn’t look so good where the old chair used to be.
But it looked good somewhere else.
So I moved it there.
But despite her being gone…
The chair getting replaced…
And the new one moved somewhere else…
I still think of this as her chair.
Step on it
“Take me to the airport,” said the businessman. “And step on it.”
I looked at the businessman and put my tongs down on my hot dog cart.
“Um, I’m not a cab driver,” I said. “I sell hot dogs. Would you like a hot dog?”
“No,” he said. “I want to go to the airport.”
He handed me a hundred. “And step on it.”
So, I told him to climb on, and I peddled it as fast as I could to the airport.
He made his flight, thank God.
And I sold out of hot dogs at the airport, too!
The Inner Critic
Now that I’m serious about writing, I’ve been told to watch out for my Inner Critic.
So, I went to the hospital and asked for them to scan my brain to find my Inner Critic.
They did some tests, put me in a big noisy machine.
The doctor showed me on a chart where my Inner Critic was hiding out.
I thanked the doctor, and went straight to the hardware store for a hammer and a chisel.
The Inner Critic was telling me to do it. Almost shouting.
So, I picked up the hammer and chisel… and threw them away.
Advent
I never understood the concept behind the Advent Calendar.
To me, it was just an overpriced fancy package of candy.
Not really much of a calendar, because you shred the numbers to get to the candy, and once you eat the first one… there’s always the second one… and third… and fourth…
Pretty soon, you’re sitting there on the first of the month, face covered in chocolate, and the whole calendar’s been torn to shreds.
There’s supposed to be Bible verses in there, something to do with the shapes of the candy treats?
Whatever. Hand me another calendar.
I’m hungry.
The Not So Merry Go Round
Here we sit on the merry-go-round.
Where some aren’t so merry at all.
Some kids are reaching for brass rings.
Others hold on and laugh.
And then there’s those crybabies, clutching with fear and screaming:
Moooooooooommmmmmmyyyyyyyy!
I’ll just sit on the bench, wondering.
All those tattoos on the arm of the operator.
The smoke oozing out from the machinery.
The gears grind louder.
Which the music almost covers up.
It’s a lot happening at once.
I just want to sit here on the bench.
And watch everything go by.
And listen to the music.
With a few folks, humming along.
The Stone Church
We founded the church on Peter, commanding the funeral masons to shape and polish his remains into a single massive cornerstone.
The Ancestors are hauled from The Garden of Memories, and they are also used as building blocks for the church.
Soon, The Birthing Mine is producing more blocks for the church than children. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I saw a young stoneman walking about.
The Teachers, replaced by the priests as the authorities of our land, were commanded to volunteer themselves for quarrying.
Some resisted, and they were pulverized to provide pebbles for the walkways.
The Vault
I haven’t seen Mother in years, but one day I’ll remember the combination to the lock on the vault I put her in.
I thought about calling a locksmith, but that would just put him in danger of mother.
And me as well, I suppose, since it has been a while since I last drank.
She used to scream so loud, you could hear her through the thick iron door. But now, she’s far to weak and frail from the thirst to make a sound.
And if I let her out, I know I will be punished for this… naughtiness.
Timeshifted
When the time machine exploded, the research team told you I was dead, my atoms scattered throughout history.
I was badly hurt, sure, but there’s great medical care in the future. All kinds of advanced Star Trek stuff here.
You can hardly see the scars from where they regrew my arm, and this new eye is as good as the old one… even better, with the anti-aging treatments.
If only you’d have held on. They could have cured that cancer.
Instead, I wasn’t there to help you though it.
You killed yourself, and I’m laying a flower on your grave.
Charity Begins Somewhere Else
Every year, we set up a tent in the middle of the city.
The smell of freshly-roasted turkey, baked stuffing, and sweet potatoes fills the air.
This brings out the homeless, lonely, and poor in droves.
We invite them in and they sit down.
We make them wait for a while.
When they’re good and hungry, we ask them to bow their heads and then we feed them…
Into massive circus cannons.
We launch them everywhere… into the river, out into the dump.
Pretty much anywhere but here.
Good riddance.
Then, we sit down and eat our own Thanksgiving meal.