Tag: Drabble

In a Post-Truth World, Nothing Matters ‘Til It Does.

Scream (1895) Edvard Munch by The Metropolitan Museum of Art is licensed under CC-CC0 1.0
Apprentice reruns, Quanon posts, bread and circuses.
The Freedom Caucus thrives in a MAGA echo chamber.
Imagine them in heated debate over dancing angels on pinheads.
Rapture them up, please, before it’s too late.
Deliver us, oh Lord, from this theocracy.

They’re loyal to a simple truth: Truth Social.
Grifts, disruption, distortions, self-serving tripe, confounding
Crap written by cowardly charlatans.
What they say is different
From what they do.

His Darkness says, “I am your retribution. The future belongs to us.”
He lies.
Lured by a MagaVerse siren song,
They believe him. 
They break things with no thought for rebuilding.

Floating Island

Photo by Lance Reis on Pexels.com

The princess abided hiding away on an island. She kept hope alive for her people while her brother made his quest to free the kingdom from an evil wizard. Summer nights, crickets sang merrily and in the winter, deer fed on the hay she spread near her small cottage.

A loyal staff cared for the grounds and animals. They produced most things the household needed. The rest was magically delivered by an unmanned boat.

After he defeated the evil wizard, her brother arrived one moonlit night. They hugged, returned home to great acclaim , and the kingdom prospered under their rule.

Feather, Flute, Cloak

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(Continued from last week)

The Prince picked up the flute and played. Within minutes, a bird so large it blocked the sun landed in the field where the Prince stood. It said, “Put on the cloak and get on my back.” Invisible, the Prince flew to a drear castle where the bird left him to his fate.

He fingered the feather and the gate opened. An evil wizard greeted him. “Come to save your kingdom? First save yourself.” The feather became a sword. The prince flew at the wizard. His cloak protected him. The wizard’s anguished cry reversed the curse and freed the kingdom.

(Last installment next week)

A Hidden Prince

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As long as the children were hidden, there was hope. A tiny woman, nursemaid to the princess, spirited the girl away when an evil wizard tricked his way into the palace and cast a spell on the land.

The nursemaid, a witch, had warned the queen. At her behest, the prince was sent to live in a neighboring kingdom. He grew up to be that mage king’s most valuable assistant. When the time came for him to find his sister and break the spell, the kindly king produced  three magical items: a feather, a flute, and a cloak.

(To be continued)

What to Bring for Writer’s Workshop

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Packing list: 

Five outfits that try, but not too hard
Light jacket
Late night reading snacks
Late night reading
Extra pillow for maximum comfort
Decent sleep
Talking points
Listening ears
“Yes, and,” improv
Elevator speech for work in progress
Courage 
Pages and pages of stories, read and absorbed
Positive outlook
Notebook for lectures
Crosswords for downtime
Laptop
iPad
Paper
Pen
Yoga mat
Intention 
What will I bring to each day, what can I take from each day, what will I give to others each day
Small talk
Significant talk
Insight
Creative grit
Sturdy walking shoes 
Walk in others shoes
Breathe

Max

Photo by Monica McHenney

Max hopes that Kohnan might come back to live with us. He checks for him sometimes. He stands in front of Kohnan’s bed and sniffs the air. Kohnan’s toy hedgehog still smells like our little black friend. Sometimes, Max seems quite puzzled. Everything is the same; but Kohnan is missing.

Max comforts us by licking our feet in the morning while we eat breakfast. Perhaps it’s because the warm weather has made our skin salty. But I remember that for months after Max moved in, he licked our feet and our knees. This is the way dogs say, “It’s okay.”

It’s Been Nearly 250 Years

Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

It’s time to come together. It’s been nearly 250 years since those guys in Philly signed that treasonous document, declared those self-evident truths. Yesiree, we’ve had a good run. Gone from hick colonies to hip leader of the free world. Freedom of speech, freedom of the press, freedom of association. Exercised any rights lately?

Rights are a muscle. You need a dig-your-heels-in protest mentality when rights are taken away. Don’t take your rights for granted. Check to see, empty your pockets, are your rights still there? What about your neighbor’s and their neighbors? We need each other in these times.

Hedgehog, Harlequin, Hummus

Photo by Davide Rotondi on Pexels.com

The falafel place got hopping around seven. All sorts would come. Teens in balaclavas and tweens blasting K-pop. Some had coffees, particularly the matrons who clustered in little groups and read the menu.

At the end of the line, the harlequin stood in a multicolored silk suit, a hedgehog perched on his shoulder. 

“Is it all prickly?” A child, barely twelve, looked up at the painted face of the man and the sweet animal on his shoulder. 

“Not really.” Harlequin cupped it in his hands.

“Can I hold it?”

The hedgehog was amenable. It sniffed.

“I think it smells hummus.”

Creating a Movement on Flag Day

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Signs from the 7×7 stand-in along El Camino from Palo Alto to Sunnyvale: “IKEA has better cabinets,” “No Kings, More Queens,” “…and to the republic for which it stands…,” “We can all hang together, or we shall surely hang separately- Ben Franklin.”

A beat up World War II jeep sporting a sign: “Fighting facism since 1943.” Honks and thumbs up galore from cars decked out with flags and signs declaring love and approval for the exuberant display of democracy filling the streets. This is what democracy looks like. To would be dictators and syncophants: the people have found a voice.