It’s time again – it’s past time – for Friday Fictioneers. So here’s my story, an entire day and almost a half ahead of this week’s deadline…
I am a deep-sea diver.
I paw with clumsy hands through the debris of other lives, a vase, a rusty hammer, a discarded leg. Once somebody valued them all, or wanted to. Why? Who knows. Their meaning is lost now, whatever it was. But it seems important to study them one by one, lift them, consider them, watch the startled crabs scuttle away to a new hiding place, wait for the sand to settle.
There are no crabs. There is no sand. Only an empty cluttered house, and a figure searching for order. As hopeless as sweeping back the tide.
Haiku for Holy Week
Disaster. All’s lost. We mourn.
But – wait – how – You’re back?
Posted in Holy Week, Poems
There are strange creatures in my house. Not too long ago, I came across something I never expected to see –
the fearsome duck-billed sockosaur.
There’s only one thing to do when you’re invaded by sockosaurs: KEEP KNITTING!
And then take a few selfies.
Posted in Knitting
Another Friday Fictioneers story, inspired by the picture below. Make sure you check out all the other stories based on this picture, over on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ site!
She stares at the frayed decorations put up for the fiesta, before. The half-full bag in her hand droops.
“Where is she?” An irritated voice.
“I’ll go look. Again.” The woman who comes out of the dark doorway might be older, or just more worried. It’s hard to tell.
“Come and help,” the worried woman snaps.
“I was thinking.”
“Fill that bag while you think.”
The daydreamer sighs. “We’re looters, aren’t we? I mean, this stuff belongs to somebody else. Used to.”
“And they’re gone and I’m hungry.”
“Yes.” She follows the worrier into the abandoned store. “I wonder how long before the city falls down.”
Wow, it has been a long time since I posted anything. Back then it was still March, and if you parked anywhere along our main street, you had to clamber over piles of ice to get to the sidewalk. And now there are daffodil buds, and occasional flowers.
I’m still kind of disorganized, so I’m going to post an overdue reply to one of Ailsa’s travel challenges – statues – just because I happen to have various photos of statues.
Back in the seventeenth century, Signor Barbaro was a “wise man of the city” of Venice
This little Venetian water carrier – or water spiller – doesn’t look so wise
Famous photo? No, a statue. But that sailor is still VERY glad that World War II is over
And then there’s this sixteenth century French gentleman in Quebec
Of course, not all statues are images of people…
And some are completely abstract
But this one in Ephesus used to represent somebody
Some statues, like this little Athenian owl, stand alone
But parts of the Battlefield of Gettysburg are cluttered with statues, put up twenty or fifty years later by the survivors