She opened the cookie
And peered into her mind
Unscrolling her secrets, her dreams, her life
How did they know her?
“You are prone to flights of fancy,” it read.
“Visions of fairies and stars in your head
Imagination and dreams rule you, yet some things fill you with dread
And you scream inwardly at your own imperfections
Oftentimes, you compromise and change direction
Your brain is, at once, playground and haunted house
Befriend the ghosts. Thank them for the growth they have aroused. “
Popular Opinion, copyright 2019 by Pamela Schloesser Canepa
“According to popular opinion, these humans are good for nothing but space fuel, or an after-dinner snack. Not much substantial about them at all.” Dorf looked down at the landscape that grew closer and closer to them.
Mifkus just shrugged. How could he convince the ogre any different?
“I mean, we’ve been visiting and observing for centuries and they don’t even suspect. Politicians concern themselves with little more than the production and consumption of green legal tender. I don’t see humans as worthy of a friendly greeting. Destruction should be our goal.”
Mifkus zoomed his eyes into focus. “Slow down.” A dot on a city street below became visible. Slowly, he pushed the share button and an image came to the big screen.
“There. Someone knows we’re here. She’ll be the bridge toward peaceful acclimation. Destruction is not needed.” He sighed in relief.
“Nonsense. Those daft care-takers will erase any hopes of sensibility in that child.”
“Not if we make our appearance now. A peaceful hello, to just this one. Please, hear me out. We’ll make a vote.” He looked pleadingly at the others.
Peaceful appearance won out over hostile Earth takeover. And today she lives to tell the tale of the odd green creatures that presented her with her first daffodil. Tomorrow, who knows what may bridge us toward universal peace.
*You know what they say about popular opinion… Find the Fandango One Word Challenge and follow for your daily prompt at https://fivedotoh.com/2019/12/27/fowc-with-fandango-popular/
Why is my life such complete, utter crap? Jackie pondered.
Santa would be coming soon for many boys and girls in the neighborhood. Santa did not like coming to Jackie’s house when she was younger, because all that was left for him was an empty bottle of bourbon and cookie crumbs. She had tried to tell her teacher that in second grade, much to her later regret. A stay at Aunt Charlene’s house for two weeks was the result. Even Charlene tired of that situation.
Dad lay on the floor by the couch, already passed out. Mom was out with her new boyfriend. How Mom and Dad could be separated and still under the same roof was beyond seventeen-year-old Jackie. She wasn’t sure when Mom would be home.
Would he wake up and vomit? Jackie wondered. Will Mom be home when he does? Footsteps and cheerful voices approached outside the door.
“Hallo!” Jackie’s mom walked in with a man in tow. “I thought you should meet Tex. Oh,” she stopped short, as if surprised Jackie’s dad was on the floor. He obviously had started early, which was not unusual.
Please, don’t wake up Dad, Jackie thought. “You all should leave. I mean, it’s nice to meet you and all, um, Tex. But I don’t want him to wake up.”
“Nonsense. This is my house too,” Mom claimed. With that, she sat down on the couch, and Tex on the chair closest by.
“Okay. Suit yourselves. Merry Christmas.” Jackie headed for the door, grabbing her coat.
“Play cards with us?” Tex called.
Jackie shook her head. “I’m headed for Marissa’s house.”
Outside, there was a frost on the ground. The first frost always held hope for Jackie. Weather change meant to her that other things would change too. She felt in her pocket for a twenty dollar bill and her toothbrush. Tonight, at Marissa’s house. And one day, she would leave for good. I create my own reality, she chanted mentally, feet crunching on the frosty grass as she made her way.
*Posted for Fandango One Word Challenge, found at https://fivedotoh.com/2019/12/25/fowc-with-fandango-frost/ 12/25.
Poem by Pamela Schloesser Canepa, (c) 2019
Either you walk out the door,
Or you stay in
Either the problem is someone else
Or it lies within.
Either you’re just aging
Or drastically sick
Either you break free
Or get beaten with a stick.
Either you’re plowed under,
Or you rise above
You are either the war monger
Or the peaceful dove.
I mean this, my child, please listen to me.
Either you choose,
Or you cease to be.
There’s no half-existing, you see.
Either is a word, that is dear to me.
-Mother to Daughter
If I had a daughter…I’d hold nothing back. I’d tell her the truth, so she’d live better than I did. I have had a son. He knows the unique history of women; he would never hurt a woman. I’ve shown him to respect a woman and treat her as an equal. I have done my best. (Photo found at Pixabay).
*Posted in response to Fandango’s One Word Prompt found at https://pamelascanepa.wordpress.com/2019/12/13/either-fowc/
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