I Did Not See That One Coming

Inspired By The Danse Macabre Prompt: Just Seven More Minutes

Melt a Smartie

Make French Toast Sticks

Fly a Tiger Jet helicopter after it’s been charged

It takes  seven minutes at the speed of light to reach the surface of the Sun

If I could spend seven minutes with someone I loved and lost

I’d probably want to do one of these things

with those seven precious minutes

because

Eternity is a long road with no rest stops

Death is a brutal cheat

and memories that make you smile

make you smile forever.

 

A Little Danse

Inspired by the Danse Macabre Prompt: Cemetery Exploring With Akari 

Photo A.M. Moscoso

One year, just a few days before Halloween I took a tour of some local haunted sights and I even visited a graveyard.

It was nightfall by the time we got to the remains of the cemetery- and I call it the remains because some graves and most of the headstones had been moved.

Apparently the cemetery had fallen into disrepair, it wasn’t being cared for and it had been over run by blackberry and sticker bushes- from what I understand some of the headstones had been stolen and vandalized too.

But then the community rallied and some changes were made.

I’m sure the process of cleaning the area up was done correctly and with the dignity required because this cemetery is located in a part of town where gentrification is taking place and nothing spells decorum and dignity like not making homes you want to sell to well to do young families come across as that development with all of it’s issues  in ” Poltergeist”

You can see the very little cemetery from decks tricked out with  plants and fancy outdoor furniture and  in couple of cases, dining room windows.

I’ve never seen this cemetery by daylight- and I’m not sure I want to now.

Something about that sad little place touched this former Cemetery employee’s dark little heart and I want to remember it as it was-

just before Halloween, at nightfall  when the air was cold and the  sky was full of  clouds and stars.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

We Touched The Sky

Inspired By The SFC prompt:  Creating with the heart of a child.
Ideas springing from kindergarten art.

I don’t know who the sidewalk chalk artist in my neighborhood is- but I am sensing a theme.

At first they were drawing people standing next to things that looked like planet- here’s one.

Welcome to Earth it seems to say.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

A few months ago they drew dinosaurs- good ones too.

Photo: A.M. Moscoso

 Below is a cheesy picture where I posed Hamish so that it would like the dinosaur  was biting Hamish’s backside.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

This morning I was out walking my dog, Hamish and lo and behold there it was-

our solar system.

I did adjust the contrast to bring the colors out because colored chalk is pale- plus it gave it that outer space vibe.

I am a science geek, so seeing this really made my day. I hope they draw more because I will enjoy it and so will Hamish.

Please take the time enjoy the art, it really is beautiful.

amm

PHOTO A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo  A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Hamish posing next to his favorite planet and what I am sure is his heart felt belief.

Photo of Hamish Macbeth by A.M. Moscoso

The Roomates

Inspired by The SFC Prompt: The Lonely Ones

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

” Do you know what I would really like, right now even if it’s just for a little while?” The lady who lives next door to me said last Thursday.

We were in the garden watching the birds and dragon flies gliding around the flowers and trees that were in need of some attention.

” No. What would you like?”

The truth is I did know because she always brought it up on our walks. But the poor dear only ever wanted to talk about her room, which she hated because she had to share with not one but three other people.

It is pretty disgraceful situation.

” I’d like a room of my own, one that I didn’t have to share because our home is running out of space. I want a room of my own where I can paint and read and watch birds and a room of my own so I don’t have to worry if I pass gas.”

Personally I think she was only worried about the gas thing because I never saw her do anything  except for talk about how awful her situation was.

She sighed and sat down on our favorite bench. ” I want the kind of room my Grandmother had. Oh, it was so lovely. She slept under a handmade quilt that her Mother made her for her Wedding day and she had fresh flowers brought to her every morning. Her room  still smells like cinnamon.”

” The Devil you say.”  I said in disbelief.

” It’s true Mavis. Her room still doesn’t smell like disinfectant or old clothes or old people. Her room still smells like cinnamon.”

” How did she managed that?” I asked my neighbor- whose name is Daisy- in case you’re curious to know.

Daisy leaned close to me and whispered, ” I think it had something to do with the cookies she baked in her kitchen. The smell you know. She used a lot of cinnamon to mask the smell. She’d boil it in water day and night on her stove top.”

Daisy’s Grandmother  was famous in her hometown. And it wasn’t for her cookies. It was more for what, or specially who she put into her cookies-which ranged from her nosy neighbor to her children’s dog to the men she rented rooms to and robbed for their pitiful few belongings and the money they had in their wallets.

” Her brother said that smell was her mark, pretty much like the one Caine had.”

” But her room, really. You can still  smell the cinnamon from- well, from her? ”

” You still can.” Daisy said.

I shifted a little on the bench. ” So, does anyone else  use her room now?”

I suppose I was lucky. I don’t share a room but that could change at any moment because I  couldn’t imagine Mrs. Flynn, the President of the Company that owned our home and several others not using every square inch of space that she could dig up. She is as greedy as she is shifty. I can’t stand that piece of wreckage.

If anyone deserved to be baked into one of Daisy’s Grandmother’s cookies it is Mrs. Flynn.

Daisy and I looked down the rows and rows of tombstones marking the spots where the coffins below were stacked like cordwood. ” She’s all alone down there.”

I thought about that and then I said,

” Lucky Devil.”

And Daisy agreed.

Photo by Daian Gan on Pexels.com

Inspired by The SFC Prompt: The Lonely Ones

Reference Material:

Bodies to be stacked double in old graves

Coffin stacking idea in Banwell Cemetery to save space

Hanging coffins of Sagada in Philippines

The Temporary Companion

You can stay with me

for a night or two

before you move to the other place

where it doesn’t matter if your eyes are closed or you hands are cold.

Does the darkness shine like the Sun, to you?

Is it bright, in it’s own somber way?

I used to wonder about that after I turned the key and walked away from

my tenants in those quiet new homes of wood and stone and marble.

 

You can stay with me, here

until it’s time for you to go.

Sometimes I listen to music, sometimes I talk about my herb garden and my cat

I wear bright color and sometimes I wear perfume that smells like Cotton Candy.

I think we’d both like to remember

together

what it’s like to be alive.

 

 

The Hiker and Her Dog

I went on a hike

deep in the woods

I went on a hike

with my dog.

I went on a hike to see a little of the world.

I thought I was so quiet, a shadow among so many others.

I thought nobody knew I was there-

except for maybe some birds

a poet looking for inspiration

Did he really see me?

I didn’t think he did, I did not think anybody did.

I would have sworn to it.

But I was wrong.

They saw me,

the trees.

I didn’t see it until later, there in the pictures I took.

The trees were reaching out towards me,while I was looking through my camera

unaware, preoccupied, vulnerable-

They were so close to catching me

with their dark and twisted hands.

They didn’t hook me with their claws but they followed me home.

I’m looking at them right now.

Just pictures. Only pictures. Locked in my computer.

Still

I’m not sure I should look away.

Right now.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Writing Prompt: Give Them a Hand

Write a scene about a conversation or another interaction, and include a focus specifically on the characters’ hands. Include the appearance of the hands, as well as the way they move and gesture. What do the hands say about the personalities involved?