Author: R.

Weekly Challenge #952 – Red Wine

The next topic is PICK TWO Pebbles, Shiny, A monkey’s wedding, Footlights, Listen, Birthday cake

NORVAL JOE

“It sounds like your dad is getting pretty bad.” Billbert paused before he asked, “Has he hit you?”
“No,” Mandi said, sadly. “Not yet, at least. If he starts to get too worked up, Mother gives him some red wine.”
“Wine!” Billbert gasped. “Is giving him alcohol a good idea?”
Mandi waved her hands. “No. It’s non-alcoholic. Daddy imports it from a vineyard in South Africa.”
Billbert stood. “I gotta go. You need to convince your parents to let you get back to school, or they’re going to send someone looking for you.”
Mandi nodded. “Right. That wouldn’t be good.”

SERENDIPIDY

I only grow grapes for white wine in my vineyard. Something to do with the soil, I believe, but I’m no expert, I just run the business.
However, I do know that red wine is far more popular with those who know their stuff and I can sell it for far more than the white.
All of which leaves me with something of a dilemma.
Nevertheless, I’ve come up with a solution: A secret ingredient that not only turns my wine red, but also enhances the taste.
It’s ferrous and deep.
You could say, it adds ‘body’ to the wine.

TOM

First Hangover

In my friend Tim’s backyard his Dad an otherwise homicide monster, build his son the coolest wooden fort. Later it became the home for 100 tumbler pigeons but that would be a different story. A shitty story that. Well, we 18 and we had moved from comic books to girls. And what better way to interact will the fairer sex then the introduction of red wine, Andre Cold Duck. The four of us squeegeed into the fort, four Dixie cups. Both Cindy and Helen nursed a single cup. Tim and I dusted off the other 700 ml. Morning came hard.

862

What happens next?

The what happen next of this story, is the phone call my roommate got, from his mother. It starts out with an excellent idea: we were going to perform a Moving Moon in front of the girl’s dorm. Let’s call him Jim, Jim is leaning out an open door as he drops his pants. The driver hits the gas. Jim tumbles into the street. We gather him up and head to the hospital. The med tech looks at Jim in confusion. “How is it you ripped your ass, but not your pants?” Bummer his mom was that hospital’s administer.

LIZZIE

He looked at the menu.
“Any red wine?”
The waiter shrugged.
“Any pizza?”
The waiter opened his eyes wide.
“Pizza?!” The waiter shook his head. “Here, Japanese food. If you want pizza, go to Italy.”
“How rude. I’ll just use my phone translator.”
He fired up the app and pointed the phone at the menu.
“Lots of dishes. Oh, wait a sec. Waiter!”
The waiter got back.
“Four bodies for 130 yen?!”
The waiter sighed.
“Yes, the other three are in the freezer. We’re just waiting for a fourth one.”
That’s when he decided to tiptoe out of there asap.

RICHARD

– ​An excellent vintage –
I always choose a bottle of wine from the menu by pointing, I tell the girls it’s because I don’t like to sound pretentious, so I keep it nice and discrete.
That’s not to say I don’t go through all the expected motions, giving it a good swirl, eyeing the depth of colour, checking the bouquet, and – of course – taking a good slurp to assess the palate before I’ll even think of accepting the bottle.
I know it doesn’t fool the sommelier, but it sure fools the girls.
And I always go for the cheapest house red.
Don’t tell them!

LISA

A Ritual Sacrament
Part of our ceremonies had a kind of communion aspect. We’d always sit in a circle for chants and singing. These assemblies made us feel like we really belonged. The rest of the world felt very far away from our safe little gathering.
He had a different cape for these sessions. It was white and long, skimmed the grass as he moved among us. They were often at night; lit by the stars. At the end we opened our mouths as if taking a wafer and red communion wine. He’d place a pill on our tongue as a drum banged.

PLANET Z

I don’t know what wine goes with what food.
I’ve never been a connoisseur or gourmet or any of that.
I know that I liked Chateu St. Jean’s cabernets, but only the even years.
The person at the store or the restaurant tells me to buy this or that.
And, yeah, they were right.
Too bad about the food I’d cook, it never quite came out right.
So I’d rely more on the restaurant than the fancy grocer.
These days, I don’t drink. (Health reasons, let’s leave it at that.)
So nothing goes with nothing. Just water, maybe iced tea.

CHATGPT

Anna swirled her glass of red wine, watching it catch the candlelight as the party buzzed around her. She was at her best friend’s engagement celebration, but her mind was elsewhere. The rich aroma reminded her of last summer in Tuscany, where she had met Marco. Those days were filled with laughter, late-night talks, and a promise to see each other again. But life had other plans. Now, as she took a sip, the bittersweet taste mirrored her memories. She smiled, knowing that every glass of wine would forever be a toast to love found and lost, but never forgotten.

The Temple of Dreams

Once a year, we go to the temple of dreams to dream.
The priests welcome us in, past a crowd of stumbling people
Sitting out in the hot sun, sweating out our sins.
Writing our prayers on strips of paper.
Lighting the sacred lamps, filled with sacred oil, and burning our prayers.
The smoke, rising to the gods.
As the sun goes down, we pass out, and we dream.
The gods tell us things, things for us and us alone.
Waking up the next morning, thirsty and hungry.
The priests usher us out the gates and welcome more pilgrims in.

Princess and the Frog

We should have never read “The Frog and The Princess” to Melanie.
Every night, she wants us to read her that story.
And now, her room has frog pillows, lilypad rugs on the blue carpet, and a frog night light.
She even made me put up frog wallpaper.
One night, Melanie snuck out to the swamp, looking for frogs.
I don’t know if she was trying to kiss them or put them in a bowl to keep as pets.
The sheriff found her, and it took her a while to shake off that pneumonia.
And longer for her frog obsession.

Deadbeat dads

Han Solo became a deadbeat dad.
Luke Skywalker, a failed teacher and pathetic hermit.
Willow… whatever that midget’s name was, a squib of a sorcerer.
While the hero, Mad Mordigan, dies offscreen of toxic masculinity.
The last of the heroes, Indiana Jones, a sad, worn out old man, dragged across the world by his goddaughter, until shot in the chest and begging to be left to die.
Queen Kathleen looks over the graveyard of Lucasfilm heroes and grins.
Her plan complete.
Bob Iger taps her on the shoulder.
Shows Kathleen the balance sheet, and says: “Get the fuck out, asshole.”

John makes a wish

It didn’t matter how long it took John to get back from the liquor store.
His parents would beat him with a belt for being so slow.
So, he’d sit on the curb and watch the stars.
And when he saw a shooting star, he’d made a wish.
One day, that wish came true.
The house was gone. Just a flaming crater.
Years later, he made a ring from the meteorite.
Proposed to his girlfriend with it.
She handed it back.
Nobody’s seen John since them.
Not at school, not at church, not at graduation.
Maybe he made another wish?

Sagan

I thought back to the days when I watched Carl Sagan’s Cosmos, all the wonder and hope and fear and challenge.
So much potential our species has… had…
Hearing the sirens blare, the warnings on the television.
It started with one bomb… then another… and then… too many to count.
Cities, countries vanishing in flashes of light and heat and fire and the most powerful winds to sweep across the world.
So few survived… so few wanted to survive.
All the hopes and dreams for the future, gone in storms of hate and greed and anger.
And the endless night.

The circus comes to town

The circus train comes through Rockport twice a season, but when it stops at the station, it just takes on coal and water.
Kids are kept in school that day, the sheriff’s orders.
Still, some manage to sneak out, and they see roughnecks wave through the windows, lions pace in their cages, and elephants trunks reaching through the bars.
The sheriff fires his shotgun in the sky, and the kids scatter.
A letter falls from a window, DEAR FATHER, I MISS YOU.
The sheriff doesn’t look, just crumbles it up.
The whistle blows, and the train starts back up again.

Weekly Challenge #951 – Screen

The next topic is Red Wine

RICHARD

+ Part of the team +
I frequently work from home. It’s no big deal, I don’t need to be in an office and I can get far more done, and far more efficiently than if I had to waste time and effort to get there.
Some people struggle with the concept though – I can tell by the looks they give me during meetings on Teams. Even when I use a background, it’s clear that they know. And they resent it.
So, I took a picture of the office wall, and I use that as my background now.
Looks great, but it still doesn’t fool anyone.

SERENDIPIDY

We screen all applicants before we allow them to join the coven.
People seem to think that being a witch is now trendy, and it’s all gone very New Age and woke.
We can’t have that.
So, if you’re a vegan, hippie, environmentalist, wear flowers in your hair and are into that handfasting thing, you can forget it.
We only want people with hairy warts, missing teeth, cackling voices and a fondness for pointy hats.
Cats and broomsticks are optional, but preferred.
We just think it’s important to maintain standards.
It’s a vocation and calling, after all, not a hobby.

LIZZIE

She had just left everything behind. Her home, her family, her friends, her job, her money. She needed money. Desperately. As she walked through the cobbled streets of the old town, people stared at her, a sense of strangeness brewing their uncertainty. A multitude of colorful flower pots decorated their open windows and their doorsteps. And here she was, black clothes, black eye-shadow, black nail polish. She carried a bag full of books and nothing but doubts on her mind. She smiled. Perhaps this place could become a home. Someone smiled back. Yes, this place could definitely become a home.

LISA

I’d never been particularly religious. I’d been raised a Christian but hadn’t been to church outside of weddings and funerals for an age. When we got together it felt like a religious service. I’m not sure how often it happened: more often than weekly but definitely not daily.
We sat behind a screen to chat about how we were feeling and any thoughts about the outside world. It felt like a confessional booth. He was always the one that took these sessions; he’d be wearing a kind of cape. Incense burned which would mix with the smoke from his cigarette.

TOM

In the Oddest Places

Sue Ellen had finished the laundry. Started dinner for Earl and the kids. The day had grown quite hot, so the front door was pull inwards letting the screen door filter in the hint of a breeze. She sat for sometime just looking at the front yard through the screen. At one point the mesh of the metal and the colors of the trees gave off a notifiable shift in the 4000 ag. That shift got Sue Ellen to thinking. She got out a note book and scribble out a few equations. A year late she won the Noble in physics.

Far far away 861

Bill was tired of the rat race. Sure, he had a Lotus in the driveway of the house overlooking LA, but what joy did all this stuff bring him. So, Bill called Remote Adventures. Frank the Booker for R.A. asked Bill if he was totally committed to the Extreme Package. “I’m in.” reply Bill. An hour later the front door exploded and six guys in black dropped a hood over Bill’s head. The next 20 hours all he heard was the rumble of the engine of the plane. When the plane touched down the hood was removed. This was Jungle-land.

NORVAL JOE

“Did your dad hurt his head in the car crash?” Billbert asked.
Linoliamanda closed the screen door and stepped over to a bench on the broad veranda and sat.
“He did and they wanted to keep him in the hospital for observation, but he refused to stay. Now, he gets angrier every day and shouts at my mother and me a lot.”
Billbert sat by her. “You could get a counselor or the school nurse to come talk to him.”
Linoliamanda sat up straight. “No! He would be so angry if he found out I even told you about him.”

PLANET Z

We screen job candidates through an online service that runs background checks and drug testing.
And we had a perfect success rate with the people hired and their performance.
Until last month.
Sure, the people who the service suggested as good hires were good, but they weren’t the best available.
So we did a few checks and found that they had lied on their resumes.
All of them were working for the online service and looking to get out.
Instead of rescinding the offers and terminating them, we’re keeping them on.
Who knows when such skills will come in useful.

CHATGPT

Lena stared at the cracked screen of her laptop, which flickered with a dim, ghostly light. For weeks, it had been her only connection to the outside world during a turbulent time. The emails, news updates, and virtual meetings all flowed through it, serving as a lifeline to her distant family and friends. As she closed the screen for the last time, she felt a strange sense of liberation. The sun was setting outside her window, painting the sky in hues she had almost forgotten existed. Lena realized it was time to reconnect with the real world, beyond the screen.

The kite-hating tree

Every day, Charlie Brown would get a new kite, and without fail, it would end up in the kite-eating tree.
He never gave up. He kept trying. And he kept failing.
One day, he flew a rainbow-colored kite, and the kite ate it.
“This tree is a LGBT-hating tree!” shouted Charlie.
Peppermint Patty and Marcie showed up with axes, and they chopped down the tree.
Yes, I know, there’s no such things as a gay-hating tree.
Marcie the Genius should know better.
However, Charlie had borrowed her kite, so she was a too angry to think straight at the moment.

Give a man

We all know the old adage: Give a man a fish and he eats for a day.
Well, if you give the man other animals, strange things happen.
If you give a man a goose, he’ll punch you and tell you to stop.
If you give a man a slug, he’ll punch you back harder.
If you give a man a ram… well… I’m not getting into that.
And if you give a man a fly, he can finally take a leak without having to pull down his pants.
Just in case you were thinking about giving him a ram.