Cobwebs fill the hollows Places where the heart once beat Polished stone simulated warmth Lovely looks aren’t always welcoming Memory has cruel plaster coating Imperfections glide through life Perfection has its chains
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This week’s photo prompt is provided by shivamt25.
“I am not a coffee drinker anymore! Remember” Mia states as she places her sunglasses across the coffee mug.
“Ok… why did you want to meet here?” Myles looks puzzled
“Coffee is plantation stuff. Horrible labor conditions and chemicals.” Mia thumbs at her phone “Can’t believe anyone drinks the stuff”
“And we are here because…” Myles tries again.
“The Danish are to die for.” Mia talks at the phone.
“GMO’s in the wheat and corn. Hormones in the beef. You know that.” Myles contests ” There’s a reason we never go out to eat anymore.”
Gretchen wakes with a shudder. The eerie morning light paints unusual colors on the walls. Like fluid spilling from an opening can, her world changes back to real.
The room fills with echoes of her slowing breath. Her eyes search for a query to explain what happened again. She rubs then with open hands as if to wipe the scene permanently from her vision.
Her right hand rummages the table top of her nightstand. Fast fingers find the smooth surface of her phone. Its harsh blue light4hw telling of a number dialed.
“Hello? Hello! It happened again!” Gretchen yells in bursts. “I can’t take these dreams. Are you revenue?”
“Yeah . . .. I’m here. … It’s like 540AM.” Joel works feverishly to put who and what together.
“It happened again! I’m… I’m leaving my room through the window.” Gretchen draws lines in the air with her hand “I heard voices. Then footsteps…. My heart is exploding in beats. I can’t breath. My throat is choked up. Are you listening to me?!”
“Yeah.. Yeah. The footsteps draw closer and you go out.” Joel thinks of why his crazy sister calls him alone.
“But this time on a unicorn… Wait, I mean unicycle. There’s a cord running down to the beach. The ocean is turning muddy. And blackbirds… They call out to these people in the house where I am.” She loses her breath taking in a rush.
“Gretchen. Calm down. You decided to go to Clown school.” Joel looks back at the clock “You and that Therapist of yours decided it was the only way to get over your clown phobia. I’m going back to bed. Put your clown attire in the closet where you can’t see it!”
1. supplicant [A is a person who prays to God or respectfully asks an important person to help them or to give them something that they want very much.]
2. seraphic [characteristic of or resembling a seraph or seraphim|seraphim:an angelic being, regarded in traditional Christian angelology as belonging to the highest order of the ninefold celestial hierarchy, associated with light, ardor, and purity. ]
5. petticoats [a woman’s light, loose undergarment hanging from the shoulders or the waist, worn under a skirt or dress]
8. ecru [the light beige color of unbleached linen]
10. dramatic art
My role as supplicant squandered. My petition disastrous. The seraphic response hardly neutral. Leaving me with a tickle in the throat and a shot to the gut to polish me of. I appear bending like dramatic art.
All for the love for ecru petticoats.
These are some of the 1032+ identified petroglyphs at V bar V ranch. The historical site is located right off I17 at the southern exit to Sedona. It’s east of the freeway by about 1 mile.
The V bar V was one of many ranches in the area. The family preserved the petroglyphs and donated the land. Red Rocks pass (same pass used around Sedona) can be purchased here. Its a level trail that is about 1500 feet from parking lot to petroglyphs. Morning sun will get you best pictures. And don’t wait till afternoon the hours are limited. They are open Friday thru Monday, 9AM to 3PM
Distant winds whisper
Quaking branches sing
Green creeps yellow
Cobalt skies appear
Morning chills tease
Autumn is here
“Terrorist! Did you just call me a terrorist?” Paul slumps back into his metal folding chair. “You have it all wrong. No, no. Thingsdiseasesr5 aren’t like that…now”
“Your cell phone places you in a very bad spot. Frankly, there was noone but you there. Am I to believe in ghosts? Or maybe we failed to pick up a second signal?” Montague pushes his glasses back up his nose. His sharp features grabbing shadows from the dim stark room.
“You have it all wrong.” Paul runs his right hand against his receding hair. His right leg bounces slightly in a nervous twitch.
“You’re 45, recently unemployed, gun collector…. oh, yeah. Here’s a missing persons report from Olivia Stafford. Your wife? Correct?” Montague pauses and leans forward into the light. “Seems she thinks you might hurt yourself or somebody. Imagine that. You might hurt somebody.”
“She didn’t know. I mean the doctor told me but never mentioned about mandatory reporting.” Paul starts to panic. His eyes grow wide, needs ous sweat line up along his brows. “It’s cancer. They notified my employer! I was too expensive to insure. She had no idea. How do you explain that to your family? Fired because you need medical treatments.”
“Now the government provides opportunitiesfor people like you.” Montague smiles ” Ha, you didn’t care about the lifestyle that causes your problems.”
“I can’t support my family with those programs!” Paul’s mouth grows tight. ” Wait till it happens to you! You’ll see!”
“No excuse! Especially for what you and your kind have done!” Montague snaps a file shut. “Think deeply about what you have done. Grenade launcher with fingerprints. At the scene of the crime. And it’s all because your sick.”