To the saint, it is a travesty that there is no Heaven.
To the sinner, it is a relief that there is no Hell.
I walk through Eternity’s mist, looking for a sign of anything… anyone…
But there is nothing but the light and the mist.
I am walking on something, aren’t I?
The mist doesn’t just settle on vast emptiness, does it?
I kneel down, and feel what I think should be the ground.
The mist bothers my eyes.
I have eyes. And hands to feel, legs to bend with.
So I keep walking through the mist, never stopping.
Aretha
I remember that I once met Aretha Franklin, but I don’t remember when or where.
Bossy. Rude. Unpleasant.
Maybe it was her health bothering her, she was unhealthy and sick most of her life.
That can take a toll on a person’s psyche.
Some stranger, bothering you for something.
Even if they’re just saying hello or thanking you, but giving you your space.
I’ve met others who were gracious and pleasant and friendly.
Dom DeLuise was an absolute sweetheart.
He was unhealthy and sick most of his life, but he loved life and people.
Unlike that bitch Aretha, I guess.
You’re being awfully quiet
A coworker gave me a baseball bat.
Engraved on the side is “You’re being awfully quiet today.”
There’s some days I don’t feel like talking.
And when people notice, they say I’m being awfully quiet.
There’s no good response to that.
Because if I answer, I have to talk.
Kind of defeats the purpose of staying silent.
Usually, I’ll raise an eyebrow.
Or just ignore them.
It’s not them, really.
It’s me. I don’t feel like talking.
Not specifically to them, but anyone.
No particular reason.
No particular feeling.
I just don’t feel like talking.
Or talking about it, really.
Uncle Bob
You don’t say that a guy’s getting divorced.
Instead, you say “He’s moving in with his Uncle Bob.”
We load up the truck with whatever he thinks he’s going to get to keep, and we head down to Bob’s Storage Facility.
Pick up a key from Bob in the office, enter the gate code, and drive down the alley until we get to the right unit.
“Hey, we’re neighbors!” says one of the guys. He’s got the next unit over.
We unload the truck, lock the door, and head down to the bar.
“To Bob!” we shout, and we drink.
Plant-based
Ted’s doctor ran a few tests, and the numbers weren’t great.
“You’re fat and your cholesterol is too high,” said the doctor. “You need to go on a plant-based diet.”
Ted started a food diary.
Every time he ate an animal-based product, he’d buy a plant-based substitute for it the next time he went to the store.
After a year, he lost a lot of weight, his numbers were much better, and he felt great.
Until the heart attack that killed him.
Three weeks after the funeral, Ted’s grave began to sprout something.
The cemetery gardeners pulled up the weeds.
Weekly Challenge #732 – PICK TWO: ecology, rash, aberration, plinth, mnemonic, wrought
NOTE: Yeah, I messed up the file this morning. Fixing it now… thank you for the heads up, Tura… we cover each others blind spots. Teamwork!
- Lizzie
- Richard
- Serendipidy
- Tom
- Norval Joe
- Tura
- Planet Z
LIZZIE
Lessons in Ecology? No one would dare. He knew far more than all of them put together. He’d spent decades studying the subject. He was “the expert”. And he was damn proud of that too. He’d lectured all over the world. He had written so many books that he’d forgotten most of them. These books had been translated to languages from all over the world.
So, when that rash started, he blamed it on the new exotic plant, a gift from a colleague.
He was certainly not an expert on Psychology. He didn’t count on something as simple as jealousy.
RICHARD
Anaphylaxis
Howard scratched irritably at the rash. What had started as a small patch was spreading, and now covered the better part of his body. The skin was raw and red, and the more he scratched it, the worse it got.
He felt his tongue swelling, and knew that he needed to get help: Unfortunately, here in the middle of the forest, he knew that help was too far away to be of any use.
With horror, he felt his airway constricting… He wasn’t going to make it.
His last memory: his mother’s words, “Ecology… Now, that’s a nice safe hobby!”
SERENDIPIDY
I have been called many things.
A criminal: Inhuman and evil. An aberration.
But I’m not any of those things; dig deep enough into any person’s psyche, you will find they’re just the same as me. The only real difference is that I choose not to hold that aspect of my character in check.
I remember one day in art class, as a child, my teacher said true greatness could only be found in unfettered self-expression.
I took her words to heart.
And now, as I look upon the destruction and pain I have wrought.
I see…
An artist.
TOM
An Audience of One Magic in the Time of Corona —
Since you asked … I’ve been doing a deep drive into aberration mnemonics: characteristic that deviates from the normal type using elaborative encoding, retrieval cues, and imagery as specific tools to encode any given information in a way that allows for efficient storage and retrieval. I’m work on peg words to build a magical card stack. So far I have 52 pairs that mark position with in a deck of cards. Simon Aronson the late Chicago Card Master came up with the stack. Among magician this is a Jedi level under taking. If done deftly one can do the Impossible.
NORVAL JOE
“Rub Marissa out?” Billbert exclaimed. “That’s a little rash, isn’t it? Besides, I thought the Albriagettis were the ones in the mob. Where do you get that idea?”
Linoliumanda didn’t hesitate. “It’s only reasonable they receive justice equal to the near catastrophe they wrought.”
Billbert laughed. “There’s an aberration in your thinking. If they nearly caused a catastrophe, they should nearly be rubbed out. How do you suggest we do that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe, shoot at them but miss?” Linoliamanda suggested.
“How about if we consider it for a moment, then decide it is not only illegal, it’s insane.”
TURA
Wrought; plinth
———
I conceived a magnificent sculpture in wrought iron, a maze of twisted and interwoven members, featherlight in appearance, massive in substance.
The base was to be of architectural granite. I searched all over Europe for a quarry that could provide stone of the quality I demanded, and travelled to the likeliest candidates to inspect their workings. Eventually I made my choice, and drew out on the rock face a block to be cut for me and shipped.
But then lockdown happened, and no-one knows when they’ll start work again. I can only hope that one day my plinth will come.
PLANET Z
It started with a rash.
Janet rubbed aloe vera on it.
But it didn’t go away. It got worse.
When she tried to make an appointment with her doctor, there was no answer.
There was an app for remote doctor consultations, and she loaded it and signed up.
And she waved the camera over the rash and sent still pictures, too.
The result.
“Go to a clinic,” said the doctor, and her credit card was charged.
The clinic was closed, so she went to the emergency room.
She sat in the waiting room for hours.
And caught coronavirus and died.
Carry Over
I can’t carry over vacation days from year to year, so I end up using a bunch of them at the end of August and beginning of September.
I’d rather use them in October or April when the weather is nice, but my work anniversary is in early September.
I could use those days in October or April, but what if I need time off between April and September?
I don’t want to chance it. So, I save the vacation days up.
I thought about quitting and getting rehired in late October.
But I don’t want to chance that either.
A Crash
On the way home from the store, I witnessed a car collision.
One car was going West on Westpark.
Another car was going East.
The car going East tried to turn left without a protected arrow.
The sign says left turn yield, but they didn’t yield.
They steered right into the other car, and they hit each other.
The driver going West got out of their car. They were fine.
The other driver… well… who gives a fuck, really?
They were a stupid asshole and idiot for turning without a protected left into the other person.
Fuck the stupid asshole..
Dan’s store
Business picked up at Dan’s neighborhood bike shop around the holidays.
He mostly sold assembled bikes, but some fathers insisted on doing it themselves from the boxes.
Those were the ones who called Dan on Christmas Eve, and Dan would charge them a lot more for a house call.
Kids would want to try their bikes Christmas morning, on the icy sidewalks and roads.
Dan would make a few more bucks from repairs.
And the restocking and scratch-and-dent fees for returns.
He’d get them fixed up for the next holiday season.
He also sold rollerskates and rollerblades.
And wheelchairs, too.
Why can’t we do both?
Hillary Clinton had the most votes, but lost the election.
Some people say she deserves to be in the White House.
Others say that she deserves to be locked up.
I say let her in.
The media can watch her walk the red carpet and cheer.
Waving to the cameras, smiling wide in her favorite pantsuit.
Bill at her side, with that shit-eating grin.
Then put her in chains, drag her into the basement, and lock her up.
As for Bill, he can visit, if he wants.
When he’s not collecting bribes… I mean charitable donations.
Or fucking his mistresses.