What She Ought

monika-grabkowska-ECxiHN817xE-unsplash

Photo: Monika Grabkowska on Unsplash

 

She looked so fraught

I thought she fought

For what she brought.

She apparently did not

But then still she almost forgot

To tell me of some fish she’d caught

And how distraught

The worms she bought

Were at the thought

That she decided that she ought

Just put potatoes

In the pot.

 

 

 

For Linda Hill’s SoCS challenge: “ght”

 

Doomed

Photo: Sue Vincent

 

“I will stand here, then slowly scoot in and get us tickets. No one will notice.”

“Are you kidding me?!” I tried to keep my voice low. Fortunately, it wasn’t difficult to do, muffled as it was already.

Doug shrugged, scattering orange and yellow.

It was a bad idea. This whole thing. I never should’ve let Doug talk me into it.

“It will be so much fun!” he’d said. And … anything did sound better than being cooped up in a hospital bed, my face swollen and bruised and covered with bandages after reconstructive surgery, while everyone else went partying.

Doug’s initial idea was to bandage the rest of me like a mummy, but I wasn’t going for it. I had enough of bandages. So Doug ‘borrowed’ his brother’s bike leathers and brought along some plastic ‘armor’, a roll of fake cobwebs, and a helmet that he somehow managed to fit over my post-surgically-wrapped visage. It was a bit too snug in places and as soon as he’d pulled it on I knew I’d regret it when we tried to remove the thing from my poor head. My noggin was five tons of throb.

We’d gotten through the nurse’s station undetected, and were now trying to crash the doctors’ party at the end of a hallway off the lobby. There seemed to be tickets involved. Or invitations. Or IDs of some sort. Now what?

Music crashed against my ears. I was tired. I wanted to be back in bed. I should have gone as a mummy. Preferably in a sarcophagus. At least then I could lie down. It wasn’t even three full days since my surgery. What was I thinking?… Clearly I was not.

“This is stupid!” I hissed.

“You’ll see,” Doug, undeterred, maneuvered his wrapped wheelchair into a corner, shedding more leaves, “People don’t notice trees.”

Oh, I could see already. And more than I wanted to.

“They would notice this one,” I grumbled.

Already Doug’s stick arms and bony torso showed. Someone should have hold him that being a potted tree in fall was doomed to leave him sitting in the nude.

 

 

 

For Sue Vincent’s WritePhoto Challenge

 

Gregory Green

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Photo: Keith Kreates

 

“You have to save me!”

She looked at him, filed her nails, and licked her lower lip thoughtfully. She said nothing.

He hated when she did that, pretended that she didn’t hear him, or that what he said wasn’t even worthy of a reaction. Sure, he leaned toward the dramatic, but that didn’t mean his feelings didn’t count!

“Daisy!” he breathed, “I know you heard me.”

She tilted her head in his direction, her nails continuing to move as if of their own volition. Truth is, sometimes he wasn’t sure they didn’t. Have their own volition, that is. These things could come at you uninvited and without warning.

“I’ll give you my special treat …” he begged. Defeated. He loved his Sunday treats.

At that she deigned to flick her lashes in his direction. She knew she won. She always did. Her patience outpaced his excitement. Every. Single. Time.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she purred.

He breathed. It was as good as done.

Once Daisy got her claws into the yarn, he would be spared the indignation of being made to wear another stupid knit thing. It took a full year from the last St. Patrick’s day for the others in the dog park to stop calling him Gregory Green.

 

 

For Keith’s Kreative Kue 234

 

 

 

Nick’s Shtick

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Photo: Alexander Dummer via Unsplash

 

I nicked Nick

With a stick

After he picked

And tried to hit

Me

With a brick.

He should not try

Such a sick

Kind of shtick

If he doesn’t like

Being tricked

And summarily pricked

By a royally ticked

But quick thinking

Chick.

 

 

For the dVerse Quadrille challenge: Nick

 

 

Fixer Upper

Photo prompt: © Penny Gadd

 

“It that better?”

“No! You made it worse!”

“Sorry. What direction?”

“To the right! No, the left. I mean, to my right, not your right! There. No! Stop! You over did it. Now it’s worse again.”

“Fine. I’ll go slowly. Tell me when.”

“When. I mean, not yet. Stop! No, a little more.”

“Are you sure it isn’t straight? You’re a little lopsided yourself. Have a sip of water, maybe.”

“I’m fine. Stop micromanaging me. I’m concentrating. Shush and let me see …”

“Go ahead. Take your time. Don’t mind me. I’ll just perch here and twiddle my vines.”

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

 

The Key

The Key SmadarHalperinEpshtein

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

 

The key to every

Good adventure,

And a day out

To sights see,

Is a how to prevent a

Misadventure

By finding a good place

To pee.

 

 

 

(Note: I know I took some liberty … with the concept of “the key” … And, yes, I’ve used the photo before, but sometimes you just got to have another ‘go’ … 😉 )

 

For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Key

 

Garden Gnome

Gnome1 DvoraFreedman (2)

Photo: Dvora Freedman

 

“You can do it!

Go higher!

Almost there,

Almost there!”

Garden Gnome,

Will inspire

Every bug

On stem’s stair.

 

 

 

For Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: Lawn ornaments

 

Nimble Nelly

selective focus photography of tomatoes

Photo: Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

 

Nimble Nelly

Bought a deli

And made a menu

With mashed yam.

She wrote in cheese

Hot from the oven

And sculpted bread rolls

From cold ham.

 

 

For RDP Monday: Nimble

 

 

We’re Ducky!

not quite ducks in a row

Photo: Atara Katz

 

We’re no ducks but still wish

To get

In a row.

There is no law against it.

So there,

Now you know.

 

 

For Nancy Merrill’s Photo a week: ducks in a row

 

 

Keen Green

Praying Mantis Dvora Freedman

Photo: Dvora Freedman

 

Hello there,

How are you, Ma’am?

I’ve missed a spot?

Oh well, oh damn.

There’s no perfection

On the lam

And I’ve really

Got to scram.

Have you seen some

Elves around?

I’ve been told to

Look for rainbows

At the end of

Traffic jams,

(And yes, I know the

Gold’s a scam

But I’ll still give it

An exam).

 

 

 

For Terri’s Sunday Stills: Green