Might have been me,
but wasn't.
but wasn't.
A few times a year I take a $2 New York State Lottery ticket just in case it's my turn and despite that the odds of being hit by lightning twice are better than the odds of winning the Lottery.
Sunday
January Fifth
The day began under cool-grey overcast skies, but warm.
Contradictory conditions.
Bursts of sunshine in the afternoon and a fine blue.
However, chaotic winds prevailed.
I never left the apartment/cave of my comfort-zones and barely recall what I did with all that time between. Took many naps I'm certain. Weather pundits warn that we will dip into the twenties and Monday will ring chill with storms arriving in late the evening.
~*~
Monday
January Seventh
7:00 AM
Daytime was consumed by maintenance chores until I headed out for the trip to my weekly writing group.
6:00 PM
First prompt
'A complete story in Six Words'
My rescued rat died in peace.
X
Second prompt
'Where I Come From'
I'm from my mothers womb,
from the blood line of Celtic Crones,
from galaxies where stars explode.
I'm that longing answered again,
another message in a bottle
riding the storms of human being.
X
Third prompt
'Something about the Moon'
'Physics ruined the romance novel' Ellen ruminated, putting aside the book she'd been reading. She was thinking about Dannie with those unruly passions percolating like burned coffee in an old pot spilling over now and then. Her Eighty year old friend used to be in theater, but had always been a drama queen in need of daily medications, with frayed nerves and most of the rest of her systems fairly well shot, residing for the past decade in a supported living facility. She had stopped taking her medications and her unchecked paranoia had alienated most of the other residents and the entire staff. She could be mean too, so Ellen had stopped running to the rescue. Rescue was not an option.
"Dear Dannie" she wrote on one of her favorite note cards "I'm so sorry you are suffering and I wish you well in all things. Hang in there honey, I'll phone as soon as I can." She tucked a twenty in the envelope and sealed it. Of course she wouldn't phone and Danny wouldn't remember. The decades old relationship had been over at least eight years now. There had been no formal farewell, it simply faded like over-washed cloth. But, once in a blue moon, Dannie would suddenly remember the phone number, dial it and leave an incoherent message. Dannie was one of the reasons Ellen filtered calls via message machine and never simply answered her telephone.
Walking to the post office, following her shadow stretching out ahead on the pavement, projected there by the bright moon at her back. 'This,' she thought
'is a lunar metaphor'.
Gift
A New Year greeting cardmade by Liz York one of my dear 'pen pals'.
Home again.
Justice Ginsberg Interview was wonderful.
PBS
Rediscovered the post card I drew on this date 2015. If you were around, remember how we were all Charlie Hebdo for quite a while? Then, tragedies tumbled forward from one to the next through 2016, 2017 and 2018.
https://www.nbcnews.com/storyline/paris-magazine-attack/charlie-hebdo-shooting-12-killed-muhammad-cartoons-magazine-paris-n281266
~*~
Tuesday
January Eighth
Our problems are planetary and can not be solved with walls. Politics remains a down and dirty distraction from reality.
Love strolling through your days with you. Those prompts are great. I love those 6 word stories...and 'where you're from'...and your photos...
ReplyDeleteYou ARE a pearl my friend.
Love what you came up with to the moon prompt. Like all good flash fiction, there’s a beginning, a middle, and an end — a whole world in there. I love how you get the sense of the years rolling by and how this friendship changed over time.
ReplyDeleteNancy - you are strung on the same necklace!
ReplyDeleteDee, thought of you when I edited the 'friendship' piece.