Monthly Archives: May 2019

Twittering Tales #137 – 21 May 2019

Twittering Tales

About the challenge: Each Tuesday I will provide a photo prompt. Your mission, if you choose to accept the challenge, is to tell a story in 280 characters or less. When you write your tale, be sure to let me know in the comments with a link to your tale. This is important as I have noticed that some of the ping backs have not been working. If you would prefer to post your tale in the comments (some people have very specific blog themes but still want to participate), I am happy to post a link to your site when I post your tale in the Round Up.

A final note: if you need help tracking the number of characters in your story, there is a nifty online tool that will count for you at charactercountonline.com.

I will do a roundup each Tuesday, along with providing a new prompt. And if for some reason I missed your entry in the Roundup, as I have occasionally done, please let me know. I want to be sure to include your tale.

Finally, have fun!


Before we get into last week’s roundup, I found out that the ping back gremlins lost Graham’s post for TT #135 (the impending storm photo). Here it is. Thanks for letting me know Graham. 🙂

By Graham at Graham is Just My Name:
“It’s really down to a question of being in the right place at the right time. I often spend hours, even days, waiting for the ideal conditions.”
Final photograph of John Jones (7.5.1956 – 10.4.2018)
(198 characters)


Twittering Tales #136 -The Roundup

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Photo by NRD at Unsplash

Starting us off…
House Guests
They got a great deal! The house was close to schools and work, fenced in yard. It was perfect.When they asked the real estate agent about the low price, she told them some wild ghost story. They didn’t believe in ghosts.
But that changed. It’s been empty since that first night. ~kat
280 Characters

heat
The middle of the night was the worst, the fan couldn’t seem to make a dent in the stifling air in the bedroom. Careful not to wake the kids he often slipped down to the kitchen and stuck his head in the fridge just for a reprieve.
Characters: 231

By Hayley at The Story Files:
Open
The fridge door wouldn’t stay shut over night no matter what she did. She decided to replace the fridge, thinking there must be a fault. However, the new fridge door also wouldn’t shut.
‘Must be a hungry ghost in the night leaving it open!’ her boyfriend joked.
Little did they know…

By Di at Pensitivity101:
‘Come to me.
Sample the goodness within.
Reach into the light and touch…..’
DIANA!
Get you hands out of the fridge right now!
124 characters

By Larry at East Elmhurst A Go Go:
The Evil That’s In Style
It’s 1979. Disco and polyester have left their horrific mark everywhere. I walk to the kitchen in search of a much needed midnight snack. Suddenly I hear a knock at my door. “O no!’ I gasp. ‘It’s the infamous Disco Strangler, and even he wears polyester.’

By Na’ama at Na’ama Yehuda:
Echoes
They’ve left the fridge door open.
The cool pooled close,
Breathing light
Into the space
As if the halo of it
Could be
Mistaken
For the life
That no longer
Offered heartbeat
In these rooms
That still echo
With the sounds
Of “please don’t!
Oh please!
Please!
Not the kids!”
(256 characters)

By John at The Magic Shop:
Lo-Cal Spirit
Lou entered his kitchen planning to blow  his diet again with his routine nightly snack.  Vera and the kids were in bed.  The refrigerator slowly opened and a voice spoke.
“LOU, YOU’RE ON A DIET”. Lou rushed out not noticing the string tied to the refrigerator door or his daughter crouched in the dark.
(300 characters)

By Fandango at This, That, and the Other:
Did Not
Sue woke up in the middle of the night, went downstairs to the kitchen, and found the refrigerator door wide open. She ran upstairs, woke up her husband, and said, “You left the fridge door open again.”
Dan looked at her and said, “Did not,” and rolled over and went back to sleep.
(280 characters)

By Milly at Truly Milly:
Rich Meat
I opened the fridge. There was so much stuff inside. I have to clear everything so I can store this lovely meat I bought from the dark web. I can’t wait to experience the taste of rich human meat.
(197 characters)

By Regina at Help From Heaven:
Late-Night Urges
Waking in the night, as hungry as a bear,
Opened the fridge, and found nothing there.
Nothing that would satisfy my sweet tooth,
And if you want to hear my sordid truth,
Unless I see plenty of cookies, cakes, or pies,
I don’t find that my great hunger will die.
I know that beggars can’t be choosers,
But, without something sweet, I feel such a loser.
(272 characters)

By Deb at Twenty Four:
Marcus knew what had happened the moment he entered the kitchen, the open fridge door was a dead giveaway.
For a moment he silently fumed and then he yelled out loud enough to wake the neighbours, “Puss, where are you, you lousy milk thief.”
The cat, as always, declined to respond.
(280 characters)

By Namitha at The Dame Writes:
Open Fridge
“Oops! The fridge is open again!”
“I wonder what are these brats eating at midnight?”
“hmm.. Ice cream! Is it good to have ice cream at night. I might put on weight!”
“What the hell! Today is mother’s day, I definitely deserve it.”
229 characters

By Indhu at Always:
Who Was It?
The recent mysterious activities in the neighborhood bothered Jay. He turned around to see his wife fast asleep.
Suddenly, there was a soft music coming from below. Alarmed and scared, Jay slowly walked down the stairs.
It was the fridge door alarm.
But who left it open?
<272 characters>

By Sadje at Keep It Alive:
The fridge door was open and the room was lit by its faint light. He reached in and grabbed a drumstick and was about to take a bite when there was a loud crash. He turned around and was rooted to the spot in fright. The cat was staring at him, it’s eye like green flint.
Character count: 273

By Graham at Graham is Just My Name:
Harsh light escaped from the open fridge where rancid butter, wilted carrots and mouldy yoghurt beckoned.
Other pervasive odours lingered in the kitchen.
Was that a body hidden in the shadows?
As I approached the fridge, I glimpsed the gleam of a knife.
But it was already too late.
(277 chars)

By Tessa at Tessa Can Do It!:
“Bob, how many times must I tell you to stop leaving the fridge door open,” Madge yelled. “Our electric bill is astronomical!”
“I told you, I am not leaving it open.”
“Then who is? The kids are in bed.”
That’s what they think Robbie and Sue laugh out in the dark hallway.
268 characters*

By Oneta at Sweet Aroma:
Old Mother Standridge
Old Mother Standridge went to the ‘frig
To get her addiction a treat
And when she got there, the ‘frig was not bare
So way too much she did eat!
Oodles of noodles
Cheese, cookies, and cake
…Nothing left but dog’s Skoodles —
Feeling stuffed, she did not partake!
265 Characters

By Peter at Peter’s Pondering:
The egg had to be kept at 40° F for 2 weeks then sat on, by Mum, for exactly 17 days. Dad took no part in the process!
Mum had been asked to leave the light on overnight, so she had left the fridge door open.
Dani, the baby dragon was dying!
Just because she was afraid of the dark.
(280 characters)

By JP at JP the Wide-Eyed Wanderer:
Empty Refrigerator, Empty Heart
Solanj stared into the refrigerator. Bits stared back. Left over this, unused that. A memory stirred. “No love, no hate, no fear, no fate” she whispered her mantra until it passed. There was only the job. Solanj quickly shut the door and went back to cleaning her weapons.
character count 274

By Rob at Art by Rob Goldstein:
Sleep Eating
He opened the refrigerator at 2 am and grabbed a large banana cream pie. He didn’t notice the taste of bitter almond as he scooped the pie up with his hands. Roger was sleep eating again; Trina knew he would go for the pie. She was counting on it.
210 Characters


Well done everyone! It appears that your ping backs worked this week. Thank you for double checking and providing links in the comments as well. We only had one casualty for tt #135. Graham let me know, so of course as promised I have featured her entry at the top of this week’s roundup. Please let me know if I missed you in the round up. I want to be sure everyone sees your hard work!

For this week a mystery perhaps, inspired by broken glass in a door, photo by Paul S Barlow at Pixabay.com. Is it the result of an errant ball, or perhaps a rock? Maybe it’s the result of a criminal act. Or is it symbolic of brokenness. You tell me in 280 characters or less and I’ll see you at next week’s roundup! Have fun! 😊


Twittering Tales #137 – 21 May 2019

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Photo by paulsbarlow7@pixabay.com

Define Emergency

“911, what is your emergency?”

“I’m alone.”

“That’s not an emergency, ma’am.”

“Someone’s outside.”

“Are you in danger? What’s your address? I can send…

<CRASH! SCUFFLE!>

“Ma’am?! Please! Tell me your address!!!”

(Male voice) “Heaven maybe…or hell. Muhaha! Have a nice day. Bub-bye.”

~kat

279 Characters


Monday with the Muse

the strangeness of aging

after all these decades
maybe the pain that
tightens my body is
peculiarly perfect …

past memories
on yellow bones
getting small, hidden
away deep in my
body would’ve
driven me insane

~kat


A Blackout Poem inspired by the poem below:

Red with a Touch of Sulfur
by Zubair Ahmed

Isn’t it funny
when suddenly after all these decades
you notice a new part of your body.

Maybe the hamstrings—
entirely unused when lifting weights,
back used instead
which then pains for years.

Maybe the slight shoulder raise
that tightens those muscles
maybe for good.

I notice my body
slide through time.
It is odd and peculiar(ly)
genius of no one,
a perfect clock
making clocks
look simple.

Newness comes naturally.
Resisting it causes the past
to present memories on yellow
platters.

My age is a number.
Bones getting ready to play poker.
I will remain a small book
hidden away deep
in the library.

I love my body and this world!
Such a declaration
five years ago
would’ve driven me insane.

But now an appreciation arrives
with a fine taste of sulfur
and anywhere I look is born
a rose.


May Day 20

how
swiftly
the days pass,
gone forever
but for brief flickers of remembering

~kat


Poetry form for the month of May: Tetractys/5 lines/syllable count 1-2-3-4-10.


May Day 19

twinkle…twinkle

stars
are for
wishing on
but even more,
stars reveal our capacity for hope

~kat


Poetry form for the month of May: Tetractys/5 lines/syllable count 1-2-3-4-10.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 19 May 2019

I’m ranting today…if you’d rather not read it, jump below to this week’s reVerse. Peace!

You say impeachment like it’s a bad thing. Oh I jest…not! This past week was rough for anyone who is paying attention, and I admit, I pay far too much attention to what’s happening in the world. I can’t help it. I am a child of the radical 50’s-60’s-70’s. Being an activist and a participant is burned into my soul…like the bras I burned back in the day. But I digress.

It is no longer a mystery what the grand old party (aka, Trump’s party, formerly known as the Republican party) thinks of most of us. To be clear I’m speaking about the GOP, as in anyone who is not white, male, straight, rich, born in the US of A, unless of course your parents were here illegally when you were born, or you happened to be a true native who was here before the white scourge. They despise us.

They despise the children they continue to rip from parents at our borders with no plan to reunite them, they despise sick children whose parents have the audacity to expect healthcare for pre-existing conditions so that their children might have the chance to live, they despise the children that they force to be born, gloating, “you’re on your own now”, once they’re here, they despise school children who dare to come between them and their right to hoard arsenals of their beloved guns. It’s no secret that they also despise people of color, people of faith who are not bible-thumping, evangelical, so-called christian conservatives; they despise the outcast, the refugee and the prisoner, the sick and the needy. Don’t be fooled by their smug “family value”, pro-life drivel. They don’t care about any of that or us. They only care about the votes their lies get them from fools who believe them, thus keeping them in power.

Oh, and this week, they made it clear that they hate women. Unless of course they want to get their rocks off, engage in a little consensual rape (because no means maybe) or have a little fun, a little innocent assault, because boys will be boys, you know. Keep the viagra cheap and flowing like skittles, but not birth control for women. No make that expensive, inaccessible and for god’s sake don’t let insurance cover it, or pregnancy for that matter and make the women pay more for that insurance if they want to have a family…it’s only fair. Men don’t get pregnant. Appoint misogynist predators to the bench, elect them to high office, to the presidency even. And when nasty, uppity women dare to act like individuals, dare to expect the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, make life a living hell for them. Remind them of their place. Remind them that as long as men are in power, they own them. Because women, according to them, are only objects of lust, hysterical, and weak. They need to be managed and punished severely when they get out of line.

It is head spinning to see how swiftly patriarchy is making its last stand. It’s ugly. It’s terrifying. I am outraged that more of us are not outraged. But like climate change (oh they hate the planet too, which is obvious in the way they rape earth’s resources for gain), we will reach a point of no return if we don’t stand up to this evil and stop them. Complicity and ignorance are not options. Impeachment you say? That is the very least that we should do. Our democracy, all that we hold dear, hangs in the balance. Yes, it’s that bad. I took a break from the madness yesterday. We should all do that, to recharge before getting back to it. But get back to it we must. If not for us, then for our children and our children’s children.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 19 May 2019

petals bursting in brief, fragrant splendor
but for the leaves whispering in the breeze
it was perfect
deny their humanity at the gates
for tender hearts, anger oft’ turns inward
fated by the whim of a breeze
I won’t tell you why
patriarchy
is a lie
yep…it’s that kind of day
when Love rains like
like angel kisses on my face

~kat


A ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.


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