9 a.m.: Welcome to my weekend coffee share, hosted by Natalie the Explorer. It’s gray outside, but the birds are singing. I’m enjoying some chai tea. Pull up a chair with your favorite beverage, and I’ll catch you up.
A gray Saturday doesn’t bother me.
It was a really busy week with work, two doctor appointments, and a dentist appointment. I had good substitutes who worked with my kids. The orthopedic doctor was happy with my shoulder progress; he gave me another cortisone shot in the anterior shoulder and prescribed 5 more weeks of physical therapy. This is good…I don’t want surgery!
Last sunday, as I drove back from the grocery store, I got inspired to write a short story about two aliens and their observations of humans during the Halloween season. I’d love it if you gave it a read: https://wp.me/p7aqV2-33e
While we’re on the topic of writing, I gave my boyfriend the 60 pages I have written of Ellie’s time travel story. It’s a disjointed mess, but I wanted to know what questions should be answered. So, he gave those opinions, which is good, but now I need the stamina and for my pain to subside. Maybe over the holidays, but if not, next summer.
I’ve had some new students join the news club at school, and many of them just don’t know where to start. So, I guess that’s my first job with them, giving them ideas on something to find out about the world or their community. They start searching and get interested, so they write, and I help them from there. I’ve thought about giving summer writing camps. It may be a retirement idea!
So, it being Halloween weekend, my boyfriend and I are going to the Zoo Spooktaculor event tonight. I look forward to it!
I hope you all have a great weekend, Halloween, or a blessed fall season!
The creatures hooked up their all-terrain space vehicle after landing on an airstrip. “Welcoming of them, isn’t it?” Eggbert chuckled. After a short drive They arrived outside of a Lou’s Best Pies diner.
Gawking at them by the door of the restaurant was a propped up skeleton. 👀 “Humans don’t look like that ” Venice commented.
“Well, but they do on the inside, ” Eggbert answered.
“Could they have become a cannibalistic society now? Is that a trophy?” Venice asked.
The sign said, “Prize-winning chicken dinner on special today”. Eggbert suspected Venice was wrong, but didn’t have the true answer. So instead of looking uninformed, he said nothing to debunk Venice’s theory.
“Activating invisibility shield,” he mumbled as a huge truck barreled into the parking lot. It had two skulls and a chain on the front grill. It seems humans now hunted humans for sport.
“Ready for human camouflage?” he asked as Venice gawked at the truck and it’s decorations.
“I guess,” Venice answered.
Soon they were in the restaurant, listening to two young and cocky teens banter back and forth. “Just wait till Halloween, Chad. I will scare the crap out of you.”
“Oh yeah? Well I’ll get you, man. You will just die!”
You will just die? What kind of sport is this?
The two aliens made sure to sit near the young teens. Eggbert had always been told to fit in at any cost, to do ” as the Romans do.” He was perfectly willing, but he wasn’t quite sure about Venice’s sensibilities.
“Are you okay with this, Venice?” he asked.
“Totally,” Venice answered, batting her eyelashes at one of the teens. She quickly shook her head as if to shake It off. “I think their hormones are polluting the air around me. You got to watch out for me Egbert. I mean, I can look out for myself, but if you think I’m starting to act foolish, tell me.”
Eggbert sighed. This had never happened on the job with Venice before, though she had formerly been a birthing creature. Perhaps her insides were trying to motivate her to procreate with a human. Ick, he thought. “Okay. I will.”
“I’ll snap out of it. I will. So, did we disguise our vehicle to look like theirs?”
“Yep. Good thing too. That gray minivan out there is plenty of ugly. Though I did see a miniature skeleton hanging inside of it. The trophies are quite prevalent around here.”
“Well, I think that gives us permission to collect a few of our own,” Venice said with a wink.
“Let’s stick with these guys and see what they’re about,” Egbert suggested. “If you can handle it.”
“Are you kidding? I’m ready to outfit our vehicle with chains and big wheels! Maybe this is how they deal with over-population.”
“Could be.” Eggbert smiled and two tens materialized in his hand as the two young men paid at the cas register. He moved up and got in line between the two , realizing that Venice had chosen to be disguised as a male. Albeit, a male with beautiful eyelashes. Ugh! Distraction was contagious around here!
Venice waited for him at their vehicle, holding two huge pieces of metal with her huge human arms. “These will mold into chains nicely.”
“Ah, yes. Maybe wait until we can get to an abandoned area.”
“That was my plan. I tell you, we’ll show those irritable humans how to play. And there will be trophies!”
Eggbert clapped a hand on Venice’s back as the young men passed them. ” That’s right brother. You’ll be an excellent hunter in no time.”
“Let’s hurry and get our set up before they get out of our range of scent,” Venice whispered.
Thirty minutes later they emerged from a path in the woods with a truck larger than an F-350 with chains on the front grill.
“The secret is aggression, ” Egbert said.
“Of course. We keep ramming them til they roll their vehicle and run out. Then we’ve got ’em!” Venice squealed, excitedly.
“Venice, these humans are really rubbing off on you,”Egbert stated. He smacked Venice’s shoulder in solidarity, revving his engine.
I don’t care if you believe in reincarnation or not. Either way, I was once a seasoned philosopher. People would come from miles and miles to hear me speak.
As public transportation became more popular, I resisted. What use did I have for a horse or chariot? I would walk everywhere I could. The sun would warm my face and the cool breeze would whisper around me, telling of the season. There would be happy children, dogs, or squirrels along my route. I was one with nature.
Now, I live a somewhat different life. Oh, there’s still plenty of time for philosophizing. I put other people at ease. There is obviously purpose in my life, if nothing other than to remind people to lighten up. But I await indoors, always anticipating that one word: Walk. I will lose my composure whenever it is uttered. She seems to understand and doesn’t get after me too much for lounging on her couch or comfy chair. All I long for is to hear those words.
“Want a walk?” She asks, like she doesn’t know the answer. I’ll immediately jump up and down, pawing her legs, begging.
“Do I want a walk? Woman, what do you think? Don’t make me beg!”
The moment we walk out of that door, I am me again, regardless of the leash around my collar.
**Every day there is a new prompt at Rag Tag Community in the form of one word. On RDP Saturday, the prompt is “walk.” This was my response. I hope you have enjoyed it. Check out other posts or the writing instructions at https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/03/09/rdp-saturday-walk/
I’d just rounded the corner to my street on the way back from a pleasant evening walk with Sparky, my dog. There it was in front of me.
This evening’s cold front was rapidly advancing. I wouldn’t make it home in time. The approaching air was thick as a blanket, appearing palpable and alien. My dog just looked at me with my gaping mouth, probably wondering if I’d feed him again when we got home.
Yes, if we make it home, I’ll fill your dish again.
I grabbed the leash more firmly and picked up the pace. It seemed like the wind was being knocked out of me.
Not only that, but the wind around me was really kicking up some dust. I started a slow jog then accelerated as much as possible.
Coughing and sputtering, I made it to the door. I fell in, the dog following me. Bravely, I reached into the rolltop desk for my weapon.
That old inhaler does wonders. I peered out the window as the dust demon hurried down the street, a cloud of fog on its heels. Survived, again.
No one knows where I am. They’re probably saying I’m crazy. That’s okay; I don’t expect most of them to understand.
I’m out here, all alone. Miles away, on another continent. The view is breathtakingly beautiful. The sounds are inherently calming. I don’t wake to an alarm; the slight hint of dawn and the chirping of birds is what wakes me every morning.
Chastity might understand. Maybe one day I’ll go back for her. Or maybe I won’t, if it could mean losing everything I have right now.
What I have now is freedom. Like the gulls cawing above, I have freedom from my uncouth boss, freedom from bills, the mortgage, that ex-wife and her constant prying for alimony. I have freedom from the stress. The only thing I have to stress about now is what I’ll eat. So far, I’ve been able to find a way, every time. This is a life of survival, and I’m doing it. I never thought I could give up that false security back home. Now, I know it’s totally possible.
The beach breeze brings a pleasant, salty smell to the air. Some days, I remind myself that the lack of a shower means a lack of interest–on my house, my credit cards, my car. I let them repossess it, and the house went into foreclosure. Some will say I was only trying to jilt my ex-wife, but they don’t see the larger monster that I needed to escape.
Money is what ruled me, and what was bound to kill me. I was working non-stop, fueling myself with caffeine, Redbull and barbecue. Now, I take my chances on a steep mountain or waking up in a hostel, not knowing if I’ll gather money to buy my next meal, but I am getting better day by day. Instead of getting heart disease, I will get leaner.
In a day or two, I’ll go to visit the monks on the next mountain. I think they’ll agree with my decisions. Learning to do without is really freeing.
*Every week, Sue Vincent posts a photo prompt and a challenge to fellow bloggers. Directions are: Use the image (below) as inspiration to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark, whatever you choose, by noon (GMT) Wednesday 16th August and link back to this post with a pingback.
Photo provided by Sue Vincent at scvincent.com
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