Tag Archives: life

Trifecta Challenge: On a quiet farm in Paraguay

The Village Boy.

Trifecta Week: Fifty-one: Write a 33 word response to one of the three pictures provided. If you click on the linked picture, it will bring you to the Trifecta Writing Challenge homepage so you can see the other two!  I chose this one.

Pablo watched his father argue with the stranger from his position on the dilapidated tractor. He pretended to drive the mammoth entity with childlike amazement, despite the obvious bad news his family received.

Advertisements

Trifecta Challenge: Chasing Benedict

             

 Trifecta: Week Fifty-Nine write a 33-333 word essay/poem/story etc. using the word Intention as your prompt word. This short action/suspense story is my submission for the week, it is exactly 333 words. I hope you enjoy!

“Well sweet one, this is what we Americans call the last hurrah and I believe a toast’s in order! To those with perfect lives, or those under the illusion of perfection, I drink to you. But we must not forget the other creatures that grace the landscape of this planet, those bottom feeders, and those aptly titled plebeians. Their battle is for survival, they’re the lucky ones because they’ve unknowingly escaped the bewitching spell of vanity! I drink to fat stomachs and greedy souls who marginalize the poor and shove them into corners. I drink to you sweetheart. Your beauty is refreshing among all the ugliness in the world. Cheers!”

The belligerent man shot the warm tequila and wiped the remnants on his cheap windbreaker. He wrapped a fatty arm around the Spanish cupcake to his right, the one with the olive skin and nice legs, but she rebuffed his advance with a piercing gaze. Her rum and coke began to sweat through the glass, causing small drops of water to cascade down her fingers. She wiped her hand on a cocktail napkin and pretended to ignore his nonsensical diatribe.

“I’m sorry mi amor. I have no ulterior motives, no hidden agenda. My intention with you was nothing short of noble. I’m leaving this tropical nightmare tonight and you’ll never see me again. I was a good man once. You wouldn’t know it now, but there was a time… I understand you have no idea what I’m saying and that’s for the best. No one knows I’m here. They think I’m buried six feet underground talking to worms.”

She shrugged her shoulders without blinking and gave him a confused smile. He looked down at her large chest and was caught in the act. But she didn’t care; if he wasn’t the target she would let him have his way with her. He had stolen millions from her employers, and they had sent her to do the dirty work everyone else wanted to avoid.


Hello Walter, goodbye Jack

Authors note: I love fiction and have been writing a ton of it lately. For some reason I have been sticking with the romance genre. I hope you guys enjoy this short story of life, memories and lost love. Please feel free to leave some comments. Music to read by: “Claire de Lune” by St. Marks philharmonic Orchestra

The old man hobbled softly towards a bench situated along the mighty Atlantic and took a seat. He held a bag of seeds in his left hand and a rolled up newspaper in the other. This is where he had first met her all those years ago, before cancer took her from his arms. God it must have been fifty, no, sixty years ago if it wasn’t a day. He remembered how she looked on that chilly, February afternoon. Her black hair was tucked into her wool collar and she wore a dark green scarf that accentuated her hazel eyes, her cheeks were rose-red from the bitter sting of winter. It had no effect on her personality because her laugh overpowered the noise of crashing waves and pissed off taxi drivers honking their horns in the background.

He removed a handful of bird food and gently threw it on the concrete sidewalk. The pigeons and crows would come, they always did. Food was scarce this time of year, the flying creatures ate whatever was available. They weren’t picky eaters, they were vultures. But he loved them dearly because no one else did.

He sat down and tried to remember what she had worn that day when she came trotting out of the woods like a lost angel. It was a black skirt, he was sure of it, a black skirt and a grey coat with ruffles on the hem. She was wearing red lipstick and brown buckled shoes. She was holding her school books and heading towards some study group he had long forgotten. She was extremely adamant about doing well in school and in the years to come, she pressed him to further his education. He had no use for school, but because she was the reason his heart beat, he wanted to impress her and in the process, become a better man.

Several pigeons made their way over to the stale pellets and decided hunger was the lesser of the two evils.

“BAH!”  The man shouted and swung a leg to scatter the herd. He laughed gingerly at their purple and silver bodies and tossed more feed on the ground with the hope of enticing other species to come and join the feast. He turned around and looked at the park where he had first encountered her. Two giant oaks to the left, a green cresting hill in the center, two more oaks on the right and the small waterfall cascading down the middle of it all. The town had erected a playground near the park’s entrance some years ago but other than that, not much had changed. She loved feeding the birds and in her memory, he made it a daily habit to befriend them.

He exhaled and a puff of smoke jutted out from his wrinkled jaws. It was cold, colder than he remembered and zippered up his fleece to stay away pneumonia. He laughed at the thought of getting sick because at this moment, and at this time, it mattered not.

His life had grown short and he had come up north to visit this special place one last time. He closed his eyes and pictured his darling in his mind. How precious she was to his heart, how beautiful and sweet and unforgettable. The woman had changed his life, gave him meaning and something to take care of. He cared little about himself and could have lived a bachelor’s life. But when he met her and saw the twinkle in her eye, he knew without a shadow of a doubt, this was a once in a lifetime happenstance. Oh how he loved her!

“Hello Jack.”

Jack bowed his head and sighed.

“Hello Walter.”

“What are you doing up here? You promised me you would stay put. What am I going to do with you?” The man with the devious smile questioned him without any emotion whatsoever.

Jack ignored him. He looked back towards the oak trees and tried hard to remember which one they had carved their names into. They were foolish romantics when they were young, and did silly things kids do when they first fall in love.

“Just wanted to get away for a few days, visit the old neighborhood. See some old sights.”

The invisible man sitting next to Jack reached down and grabbed a seed from the ground and popped it into his mouth. The thing pretended to enjoy it and rubbed its’ belly in mock fulfillment.

“I see you’ve chosen the cheap brand this time. I enjoyed the breadcrumbs you wasted last week. Have anymore?”

Jack remained silent as he pictured her ice skating for the very first time. It was their first date and they both had fallen more than once.

“I didn’t come here to feed you Walter. The birds need food this time of year, it’s cold and they have nothing else to eat. Giving food to hungry birds isn’t a waste. But then again you wouldn’t know about compassion, would you?”

Walter tilted his head skyward and chuckled. He was wearing a short sleeve shirt and dark jeans this time. A pair of sunglasses sat tilted on the bridge of his nose and a devilish smile formed on his whiskered face.

“Nonsense Jack, compassion is another flaw in the human species I will never understand. It’s a waste of time and effort and when it’s all said and done, you are deeper into poverty than you were at the start! And all in the name of helping someone else! Come off it old man, there is no room in this world for the likes of you.” Walter said matter-of-factly as he picked at his fingernails.

Jack thought about the day he purchased the ring and asked her to marry him. It was a happy day, a glorious day. She’d put it on her finger with tears streaming down her cheeks, and with quivering lips agreed to become his wife.

“Walter, if it’s all the same to you, can you just shut the fuck up and get on with it? I’ve been listening to your crap for the last seven years and to be perfectly honest, I’m tired of it. I want to see her.” The old man said with little anger and much hope. Her face was becoming much clearer now.

Walter glared towards his prey and took off his glasses, its’ eyes were pitch black with rage.

“So be it.” With one finger, Walter touched Jack on the neck and the lonely old man began to fade into eternity. Seeds fell to the ground and the pigeons began to fill their stomachs.


Trifecta Challenge: Rebel without a cause

The rebellion began once the fuses were set on fire. A great cacophony of explosions invaded the quiet atmosphere and turned the peaceful town into a graveyard. Great and small alike died valiantly.

Trifextra Week: Forty-Four: For the weekend challenge, we’re asking you to write exactly 33 words about rebellion and/or revolt.  Interpret it as you will, just keep it to 33 words.


Trifecta Challenge: 33 words and several more

Triextra week: Forty-Three: Write about a favorite thing in 33 words… Authors note: On this weekend challenge I decided to write a small collection of very short stories, all of them 33 words of course 🙂 But as for the challenge itself, my submission is the first one. Please enjoy them all and let me know what you think! 

 

The Rocky Mountains spiral horizontally across the earth unopposed, causing the vertical to become distorted and make you dread mortality. Early sun cracks the atmosphere and unveils its mighty peaks and ferocious pitfalls.

—————————————

She sat quietly on her throne and watched the full moon scatter beams into eternity, the Chianti swirled around her belly and she remembered kissing him. She blamed the wine and grinned playfully.

—————————————-

The fire was lit to keep the herd alive. Cold had fallen suddenly on Tucumcari, freezing everything exposed to the elements. Old men searched the desert for sustenance, terror struck their beating hearts.

—————————————-

She picked up his new book for a third time and marveled at the name etched on the cover. Her eyes danced with excitement as she scanned her wardrobe for something to wear.

—————————————-

Storm clouds congregated over the small town without mercy or grace. An invisible blade split the sky; large pellets began to assault villagers. They ducked and dodged and shook their fists towards heaven.

—————————————-

The old mutt jerked its lazy head and sprinted towards the knock. Feel free to answer the door, he almost yelled. He watched her smoke the cigarette without a care in the world.

—————————————–

The fire alarm roared above the nurses as they scrambled to regroup the geriatric wing into some semblance of order. Sam tried to escape amid the chaos but was tackled by his wife.

—————————————–

Nausea was rampant among the fleet. Rogue waves enveloped the sea and nothing could quell the turmoil. The people below deck buried their heads and sang miserable songs to forget the trouble outside.

—————————————–

The baby elephant trotted towards Lucy who stood in complete awe. The pachyderm had been a surprise birthday gift and she loved him instantly. The animal blew its trunk and her heart melted.


Lost on Thanksgiving.

The greatest show ever made.

Sometimes, during the dark of night when I can’t sleep, I listen to the wind crash against the window of my bedroom. The street lamp standing guard on the sidewalk births thick beams of artificial sunlight into my room which are hushed and distorted by the glass, causing streaks of yellow to cascade past the physical attribute of the pane. When the light hits the wall, it disburse’s and ricochet’s around the room until whatever molecules make up light vanish into nothingness and a soft glow is left behind, making the darkness less terrible and the solitude a little more tolerable.

When I find no comfort in the warmth of my room, I will get out of bed and go for a walk and ponder the meaning of this world. If I’m too tired and my brain is too fried to think deeply, I will power up my aging laptop and go on YouTube to find something funny to laugh at or watch short clips of movies I used to enjoy.

I was a huge fan of the hit series “Lost” and lately I’ve been watching snippets of it on my computer. I loved that show. I still do. I mean, I loved the characters and the plots and subplots and back stories and the scenery and how the creators managed to piece everyone so perfectly together with flashbacks and flash-forwards. I miss the adventure and the soundtrack and the way Kate looked when a lock of brown hair would fall across her cute face. I love adventure and this is what the show gave me whenever I watched episode by wonderful episode. A few years ago I purchased all the seasons on DVD and I would watch them over and over again. But last year I ended up selling my precious collection for drugs when I ran out of cash.

My favorite character was John Locke. Yes he was bald and aging, crippled and crazy, but he was courageous (Just for the record I am well aware the show was purely fiction, I mean come on they were chased by a black smoke monster) and he believed in something greater than himself and when no one believed in him, he kept on truckin’ and said the hell with it. He believed he was special and he did what he had to do in order to figure out the meaning of his puny existence.

I did something like that a few months ago. I mean, I never crash landed on a cursed island with a bunch of strangers, but I did manage to get out of Dodge for a while. I dropped what I was doing, I put my life on hold and packed up my Grand Van and hit the road. I searched for the inner strength I knew resided in my heart. Although I came out wanting and poorer than I was at the start, I returned with unforgettable memories and beautiful pictures. But I did it. Some people will call it failure, and to be honest, I don’t give a damn what they think. For the first time in my own puny existence, I grabbed life by the balls and dared to do something out of the ordinary. It’s not over because as long as I remain six feet above ground my own adventure will continue, the story of my life is just beginning even though there are dark, bleak nights I feel as if the end is near.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. It’s a day to spend with relatives around tables full of food, laughter, good wine and better company than ghosts on a dark night like the one I described earlier. It’s a day to crack walnuts and watch football and if you are so inclined, retreat to a small, quiet place and bow before the Lord to thank Him for the many blessings He has bestowed upon you. But if you’re not one of the lucky ones, hell, do it anyway.

I don’t feel like a thankful person anymore. I seem to curse Him more often than not and I find myself OK with doing it. We have issues, He and I. Something tells me it will be many years before He gives me any straight answers. He remains silent to my wonderings and questions, but so be it. If it weren’t for my being mortal, I believe I could go on forever in my stubbornness until I get my well deserved answers. Yet even in my unabashed contempt, I will thank Him nonetheless, because I know there are many people who haven’t a place to spend this wonderful holiday, and when push comes to shove, He is still good to me know matter how much I bitch and moan on the inside. Have you ever felt this way?

I want to wish all of you a wonderful and Happy Thanksgiving and remember that no matter how dark the night becomes, the morning will always arrive on schedule and this dear friends, is a good reason to say thanks.


Trifecta Challenge: Three copper pennies

An old man walked slowly towards the mysterious well. He carried three copper pennies representing three wishes he had been granted. Without her, riches meant nothing. Life empty, love gone, he jumped in.

 

Trifextra: week thirty-eight: write 33 words exactly about three wishes that come at a high price to the wisher.