Five Photos, Five Stories Day 5…Calgon, take me away.

My five days of story telling are at an end, at least for the purposes of this challenge.  I hope you’ve enjoyed the stories as well as the photos and, as always, thanks for taking the time to read and, often, comment.  Today I’m nominating any of you who would like to participate.  Remember the rules:  Write a story each day for five days, based on one of your photos, and nominate someone else each day.  Of course, there are no enforcers here, at least not that I’ve seen, so you may participate in whichever way you choose.  Above all, have fun and, whether or not you participate, have a marvelous weekend.

 

Calgon, take me away.

For me, it’s lavender.

The scent takes me back to the fields in which we lay
after our lunch of pate and wine,
hidden from the road,
scented with love.
My fingers run through your dark hair,
yours caress my lips.
You murmur French nothings into my ear.
I purr with pleasure.

I inhale again deeply,
take another sip of wine,
channel my inner author,
and continue writing.

Friday Fictioneers: Get Your Kicks (a romance in 100 words)

It’s the start of a new year, a year filled with opportunities, including the opportunity to write flash fiction once a week.  If interested, join the authors at Friday Fictioneers.  The photo prompt is posted in the wee hours (if you’re in the U.S.) of each Wednesday morning and you may post your story until the end of the following Tuesday.  Of course, you’re free to simply read, if you prefer not to write.

This week’s photo prompt is from Jean Hays and copyrighted to her.  My story follows. Other stories are linked by clicking on the little link critter at the end of the story.  Like the snowflakes driven by the winds that have pushed our windchills into the too-much-below-zero range this week, my story is light, something to hopefully bring a smile to your face to start the new year.

Get Your Kicks (a romance in 100 words)

The heady aroma of dark roast tickled her nose, her thoughts floating up with the scent. She was tired of being alone, of only finding losers. She stared out the window…

and there he was, standing on the sidewalk, looking lost. Drop-dead gorgeous, not too tall, built, but with gentle eyes, just what she’d been looking for all her life.

Go for it, girl! Abandoning her brew, she rushed out, approaching slowly, not wanting to be pushy, but not wanting to lose him, either.

“Hey there, good-looking. Are you lost? May I help?”

Tail wagging, his nose nudged her hand.

Summer Heat–a haiku with photos

Apologies to anyone who read this on Poet’s Corner, but I wanted to share it with my friends here with the addition of several of my photos.  This poem my response to a challenge from Whimsy Mimsy (http://whimsymimsy.wordpress.com/2013/03/21/group-challenge-prompt-kind-o-thing/) to write a sensual or romantic poem using the words tea, twill, coalesce and plural.  I will repeat my annoyance that WordPress won’t allow formatting without a great deal of effort and a dark background, so my original formatting isn’t here.  Hopefully the content of the poem stands up to the loss.

Summer Heat

Twill sleeve
brushes my cheek
as I pour your tea.

Love and desire
coalesce like the condensation
on the china lips of the teacups
The plural heats of tea and summer
kiss you.

I follow their example
while the scent of jasmine
wafts gently through the still air.

But the greatest of these is love

Monday at 1:30 pm, CST, my husband emerged from his three days of isolation following the ingestion of several  I-131 pills which started the iodine radiation treatment for thyroid cancer; no longer a glow-in-the-dark guy.   An “I-131 Therapeutic Regime” it said at the top of the page of “Instructions for Releasable Patient”, instructions about how not to get radioactivity on anyone else when said patient is released into the world.  Sounds pretty innocuous, doesn’t it, but au contraire, especially when right after taking the pills, the Geiger counter picked up radiation from 6’ away.

The radioactivity leaves the body mainly through the kidneys (i.e. waste products), but a small amount  (how small an amount of radioactivity is OK???) leaves via sweat, spit and so forth.  Unfortunately, those sneaky little pieces of potential badness don’t really obligingly glow in the dark or anywhere else, so it’s tough to see them when trying to clean up any that remain behind, lurking, looking for bodies to glom onto.  Hence, thorough cleaning must be done, but only after the three days of isolation.  Today that time was over; more than over, really, since it was Tuesday at almost noon and his isolation had ended almost 24 hours ago.

I called Nuclear Medicine in the morning and found out how to clean the room, etc. and now it’s all done.  And I do mean all!  I wore gloves and a mask (went through two sets of each so I could reassure my husband that I took all precautions), cleaned every surface and object in the bathroom with the Clorox wipes:  the floor, inside the tub, the shower walls, the toilet, the scale….every single thing. Or as in current parlance ….Every. Single. Thing.

I did the same for the bedroom:  every cord, every magazine, every PlayStation game box, every piece of paper, wastebaskets….well, you get the idea.  The rest of the bedding and the pillow went in garbage bags in the garage, along with the shower curtain.  At the end of a week, we’ll wash what we want washed and pitch the rest.  I wiped the top and sides of the bed (it’s a pad, so we can also toss it if desired) and when I was done vacuuming, I wiped the vacuum, wiped the inside of it and the roller, removed all the fuzz and got rid of the vacuum bag, the gloves and the mask in another garbage bag.  Believe me when I tell you that room is clean.  It’s also aired out because I had the window open and the door shut the entire time. Take THAT, nasty radioactive particles!!

The clothes he’s worn since Monday at 1:30 pm can be washed regularly and today’s load is done, although I washed them twice and the washer once empty afterwards.  The clothes, sheets, towels, etc. that were used during the three days reside for a week in garbage bags in the garage until they can be washed (the twice-washed routine, followed by a washing for the washer with detergent and hot water but no load.)

So we’re all set for being in that room again, as free of radioactivity as it can possibly be without a haz-mat team coming in.  That was Valentine’s Day.  What valentine or gift could be more precious?  Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.  I love you.