Get Up Now

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2016/03/20/picture-it-write-88/
  

“The box says it time to feed me.  I’ve been staring at you for hours.  I’ve poked your pillow with my claws.  It makes that sound you really hate. …. You can get up and feed me now.  Really….. You aren’t just going to sleep there all day, are you?…  Great.   I’ll just reach out the paw again.  Hmmm, maybe a loud purr.  Paw to the hair, why didn’t I think of that earlier!  Hey, you’re awake!  Meow.  Meeeeooooow.”  Ella Rams her head aganist a semi conscious  human.

“Ella! It’s 6:45! You sleep all day. An hour of sleep once a week!  You sleep all day.” Paula looks into the eyes of a wild looking animal, hungry wild animal.

“I’ll just stare at you then!” Ella quiet cat voice responds.

Natalie

“I have always felt like a fish out of water.   Even on the beach, people stare.   Am I really that different?!”  Natalie looks at Frieda.

“I’d kill to have that hair of yours!  Maybe they like how you look.  Your at the beach relax!   God, girl live a little! It wouldn’t kill you.”  Frieda smiles and points out the boys on the surf boards. “The tall one keeps looking over here. …..I think he likes one of us.   I wonder who?”

“He’s just starting.  I’m not sure that’s sick or like on his face.   I bet he doesn’t even see us.   Yep, he’s after somebody else.  Wait, he’s really coming over here.   Don’t look at him!” Natalie starts to raise her voice a but.

“Oh you caught yourself a man, Natalie!  Look him in. .. don’t let this one get away.” Frieda giggles.  She hopes it goes well this time.

Scott finds his way toward them.  About a hundred feet out he comes to a stop.   He stands slack jawed.   Blinking eyes to clear his mind.

“Whoa, she’s got a tail.  I knew she wasn’t from here!” He speaks softly.

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2016/02/07/picture-it-write-84/

snake Eyes

  
The roll of the dice.  Lives and loves take tragic turns .  The one bouncing over another to become a six.  The thrill of winning.  The jealousy of the loser smacks the air around the table.  The dice dance is the air of possible outcomes.  Senses bounce through the people looking on.

The score of a lifetime is riding on the soft green table top.  Intricate lines convey messages to the players.  The are no breaths taken.  The pause of existence until the next bounce.  Then another halt of time bounces.  Seconds are years long.  The green felt demands it.  The pass line demands it.  The shooter can only watch life come to an end or expanded another roll.

The world surrounding the dice, stacks of plastic.  Worth is only an illusion when the dice are bouncing. Bouncing. Spinning, Bouncing.  Every eye tries to stop them in vain.

“Two rolls a two!”