Friday Fictioneers–Quite an interrupt-us

The Friday Fictioneers is a group of writers who weekly chose 100 of their best words to tell stories
based on a photo prompt.  The coordinator of our cadre is Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
Thousands of people compete weekly, maybe even pay bribes,
to supply the picture prompt. This week’s photographer is Sarah Ann Hall.

Anyone is free to either read and write or just read. If interested, go to Rochelle’s site:  http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/ and join in the fun.  If you just want to read (“likes” and comments are always appreciated by all authors), go to the end of the page and click on the little blue critter to access the rest of the stories.  

Warning:  stories will continue to be posted for some days, so check back often.
And now, without further ado, here’s the photo and my story for this week.

aqueduct-copyright-sarah-ann-hall

Quite an interrupt-us

Shade dapples us
as we lie in summer flowers.

I offer you prosciutto-wrapped melon,
place it gently in your receptive mouth,
lick the juice drops from your chin.

“The Romans were here,”
you elucidate.
My hand traces patterns across your body.

“They built this aqueduct.”
“An aqua duck?” I josh,
kissing your nearby ear.

The heat increases
as the afternoon lengthens.
I roll over, leaning into you.

You laugh as I tickle your nose
with a stem of grass and slowly
lower my face towards yours.

You sneeze.

A startled moment of frozen time…

then we collapse in helpless laughter.

Some days…

Haven’t we all had days like this?

Yeti?

The Dr. Seuss yeti, perhaps, and certainly not Bigfoot or, as Odo Proudfoot said in “Lord of the Rings” (sort of), “Big FEET.” 

Have a laugh-filled Friday.

“Tell me where to get more wax.”

Don’t tell me I’m burning the candle at both ends, tell me where to get more wax.”
That clever creature, “A nony mouse”

 As many scientists abandon the theory of global warming/climate change, I would love them to concentrate on an even bigger threat to humankind:  disappearing wax.

What is it?

Just for fun. What would you call this critter?

You make me feel like dancin’.

Spotted when we emerged from our lovely evening at Chef Amaury’s last week (http://sustainabilitea.wordpress.com/2013/01/29/a-little-cheesey-but-grin-and-beer-it/, in case you missed it.)  It makes me happy just to look at it.  And yes, it makes me feel like dancin’, something I love to do.

Grammar nazi sightings–signs of the times

I haven’t posted any Grammar nazi sightings for some time, which doesn’t mean I haven’t spotted any.  These three may not all be strictly grammar, but they’re certainly related to how to write precisely–or not.

Friday Fictioneers–Medley

“It’s that time of day, when you can say, ‘Head for the….beach, not mountains.’” (No Busch in my house, thank you!)  It’s midweek Friday, time to put on your thinking caps and trot out the old (or new) saws for everyone’s reading pleasure.  I really, really wanted to get away from feel-good stories, was looking for a good sci-fi type offering–even had the germ of an idea float by.  Float?  Beach? 

Then my mind was overtaken, hijacked even,  by not one, but many flashes from the past.  I admit; I succumbed.  As Boz Scaggs once sang on his Silk Degrees album (CD these days):

What can I say
What can I do

Three a.m. It’s me again
And wouldn’t you know
Things would have to end this way

That’s what I’m talkin’ about.  You’ll see.

Medley

 We took the last train to Clarksville,( ‘cause we’d been California dreamin’), and a big yellow taxi to the beach. The fog looked like smoke on the water. The morning sun was shining like a red rubber ball.

Ignoring the beach boys, I spied a long, cool woman.  (No black dress!!)  Now I’m a believer!

My wife protested, “But we were happy together.”

I retorted, “We had a good thing, baby. I know it’s kind of a drag, but I was born to be wild.  Let’s live for today.”

She swung the green tambourine like Serena. Everything’s a purple haze.

***********************************************

Can you find all the song titles?  There are fourteen plus one group name.  If you didn’t grow up in the 60′s. don’t remember the British invasion and all that not-jazz-but-rock-and-roll and didn’t see the Beatles for the first time on Ed Sullivan, you may refer to this page of 60′s song titles to see where I came from.  It’s not a definitive list (“Red Rubber Ball” is shockingly missing) but most of what I used came from it or from my memories:  http://largeflowerheads.com/id52.html.

It’s been suggested that I have a playlist, so here it is:

Last Train to Clarksville…..The Monkees
California Dreamin’…..The Mamas and Papas
Big Yellow Taxi….Joni Mitchell
Smoke on the Water….Deep Purple
Red Rubber Ball….The Cyrkle
Group–The Beach Boys
Long Cool Woman….The Holllies
Now I’m a Believer….The Monkees
Happy Together….The Turtles
Good Thing….Paul Revere and the Raiders
Kind of a Drag….The Buckinghams
Born to be Wild….Steppenwolf
Live for Today….The Grass Roots
Green Tambourine….The Lemon Pipers
Person–Serena Williams (not the 60′s, I know, but…)
Purple Haze…Jimi Hendrix

More or les

A little humor to end your week and start the weekend. This is a postcard of my favorite tombstone in Boot Hill, the cemetery in Tombstone, Arizona, the town where Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, Virgil and Morgan Earp faced the Clantons and the McLaurys in the gunfight at the OK Corral.

The Christmas bottle

I know some of you (Randy, Rich, probably Ted) have tuned in thinking, “Wow, a story about getting plastered at Christmas!”   Much as I hate to disappoint you, it isn’t that sort of story.  And no one even got pounded (fortunately.)