Total Pageviews

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Three Five-Sentence Stories

GBE 2: Blog On


"Eat that pickle or I’m gonna turn the football game on”. Grampa peered at his five year old granddaughter over his glasses, watching for her reaction.  Entranced, she lovingly gazed at the television set as My Little Pony pranced across the screen. Brows knit together, lips pursed she eyeballed Grampa with determination. Her resolve put to the test, she quickly downed the pickle.


“I grew up around farms, that little Shetland pony will be good to have for the kids”.  Standing in the middle of the dirt road, the two men were surrounded by every neighborhood kid over the age of three and younger than 20.  “That pony is strong, he can carry me,” Dad hopped onto the back of Tonka, the pony looked around at us kids and proceeded to buck.  Dad when end over teakettle onto his back, sputtering he attempted again with the same results.  I always respected that pony.


Sitting in the rocking chair, television blasting a cartoon, Grampa was being “taught” how to play her games on his i-pad.  He rocked back and forth as the six year old rambled on, taking in every instruction with earnest and deliberate care.  Sipping his coffee, he smelled her hair again and drank in the joy of her presence.  “Grampa, I love you”.  The day was complete. 

Sunday, October 6, 2013


GBE 2: Blog On
Week # 125


He bent over the fallen deer and thanked it for sacrificing itself for his family.  Deftly, he pulled his knife from its sheath and began the process of cleaning the venison before taking it back to his family.  Swiftly, he pulled the heart and took a bite.  The blood ran down his arm.  He grimaced.

Flaring Star did not care for eating the heart immediately, but it was expected of him.  He felt it was too soon after the animals death.  He felt to truly respect the animal, one should wait until its soul had completely left the body and even the area.  But, tradition/religion/past practice dictated that he should eat the heart immediately for all to see. The rest of the hunting party soon encircled him as he hunkered over the felled stag. They too were starving.  The sight of meat began a stomach rumbling heard throughout the thicket.  The venison was loaded onto the makeshift cart with the other carcasses; squirrels, rabbits, ducks and blue jays.

At the camp, the women divvied the meat among the families.  Times had become difficult with an early harsh winter.  Many of the hunters had come back to the camp with only tree bark of the birch to feed the tribe.  Many children and the elderly had become sickly.  The tribe’s women took care to divide what little they had among all the families.  The cook pot over the fire was mostly warm water and herbs.  Foraging daily for roots and vegetables, the women took care to stay away from the hibernating bear caves, respecting the ire they may encounter should a sow be awakened by their chatter. 

Honoring one another.  Caring enough to be grateful.  Thoughtful of others well-being.  



Friday, October 4, 2013


GBE 2: Blog On
Week #124  

Standing at the back of the room.  Arms folded and leaning against the wall.  I wear a smile on my face to hide the emotions which have begun to roil in my torso.  My stomach churns, my heart beats a little more quickly and my palms have begun to sweat.  My mind takes me back to that fateful day. 

One of the children squealed returning me to the “here and now”.  Gala decorations adorned nearly every once empty space on the walls and ceiling.  Bright colored ribbons and wrapping paper whispered hints as to the contents they held hidden.

Children gathered around the table, expectant looks upon their faces as they turned towards the door leading into the kitchen.  Someone dimmed the lights.  The glow of the candle festooned cake as it was slowly presented to the room, lit every child’s face.  All eyes widened.  All smiles became full.  And nearly all licked their lips in anticipation.

Me, I was taken back. I was one of the children at the table that day.  I had widened my eyes and licked my lips.  I had wished.  I had squeezed my eyes shut and wished the wish. “Please let me have a thousand more birthdays”.  I said it over and over to myself.  If I had been older, or perhaps at least thought through just what I was wishing for.  I never would have put it so simplistically.  It was a simply wish with great complications. 

After eating my piece of cake a couple of my buddies and I decided to get out our skateboards and roll, at least until it was time to open presents.  I could tell my Mom was certainly ready for some of us to burn up some sugar powered energy for a few minutes and let her clean up. 

Reggie and I were best friends. He lived three houses down and across the street.  He had a fenced back yard and a dog.  I don’t know why I didn't wish for a dog, I suppose because I could play with Reggie’s dog anytime I wanted. And I sure loved his dog. 

My skateboard was yellow and green swirls.  Reggie’s was blue and gold.  We were fiercely competitive on our skateboards. Down the sidewalk, jumping broken pieces, dodging the old lady walkers, smiling with our mouths shut to keep from swallowing too many bugs. 

To say that we egged each other on would be an understatement.  Maneuvering our boards to the top of the hill, we grinned at one another in a silent challenge.  We had already been severely chastised for racing down the hill.  Reggie had been “grounded” from playing with me for a week.  I was spanked and sent to my room.  But, this was a special day which in our minds required a special celebratory challenge.   Down the hill, through the neighbor’s drive, jump the broken sidewalk near the squirrel filled oak tree and back into my house without detection. 

First to fly down the hill…first to be hit by the car.  That pain was now over 400 years ago.  The doctors operated for hours on us.  I got to keep most of my usable parts, however, there weren't many.  I’m 410 years old now.  I’m lonely for people who get my jokes. 

It’s difficult keeping abreast of all the changes, and yet, if I do not I fear I will have 600 years of greater isolation and depression.  These beautiful children are guarded by loving parents.  They have their friends nearby and a good life expectancy of around one hundred.  The medical community disbanded the experiments I underwent.  They have long passed on and out of the memory of the general public.  I don’t stay anywhere for very long, lest I create a panic at my longevity.  Wherever I am I do caution those with birthday wishes, “be careful what you wish for, as it just may come true.”