Category: Bladder cancer

“Hey, Harry, who’s idea was this photo shoot anyway? It’s not like we’re showing the product!”

“Well you look dapper enough, holding that cane; don’t worry about it.”

“Just a few more gentlemen” the photographer explained. “Remember not to smile, you’re supposed to be serious executives.”  

“Talk about fancy, Joe, with that gold watch bob on your belt. Showing it off?” Jack liked to needle him. Joe was the youngest and smartest of the group and everyone knew it. It was Joe who had the original idea, and it turned out to be successful for all of them. The other three men invested in Joe’s idea, and he was thankful for their support.

The gentlemen posed for a few more and grew restless. Suddenly Joe said, “Okay, enough. The beer’s on me, boys.”

https://allaboutwritingandmore.wordpress.com/2017/02/26/prompt-2012-visual-prompt-the-gents/

You might know this lady.  She does a lot on WordPress and has been taking over MMM for a time.  This week she is not feeling well, so please give her some lovely get well wishes.  She usually adds a tanka poem to her weekly submission, so here is my very simple attempt as a feel better note.

Dear Kiwinana

So sorry to hear that you’re ill

Our get well wishes

Hope they’ll  sustain you until

You’re feeling better.
🦋🌸🌺🌼💐🥀🌷🌸🦋

https://ramblingsofawriter.wordpress.com/

Did you hear the rumor

WP has a sense of humor

It must be true

With today’s prompt view

I couldn’t help but giggle

When I saw the prompt, jiggle.

Now being older

I have to admit

Parts of me do jiggle a bit.

Okay, a lot…..

But here’s a thought

When you’re younger 

You take it for granted

That everything will stay

Where it’s planted.

Sad to say this just isn’t true

Especially after age 52

Or so, depending on exercise

Or activities, to be precise

Smoking and drinking also come into view

Wrinkles and sagging in your mirror, too

But really, no need to fear

Personality still holds dear

Everyone ages, I’m not lying

Just face it, better than dying.

I can write that and sit here smug

Lying in bed under a rug

I’ll close with the daily prompt jiggle

Which won’t happen if you don’t wiggle.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/jiggle/

I suppose in the land of Herod

The air would seem quite arid

But in the land of Tom Beauchamp

The air is humid and damp.

If you like your mountain air thin

You could always visit Tuptim.

If you like it sweaty and warm

You might like the springs of Palm.

But me, I’m an aficionado

Of good old Colorado.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/arid/

The stranger stared at Dora’s package. Not surprising, since it was so oddly shaped and had a bloody handprint on the side. Dora kept on walking, ignoring him as best she could. She had to hurry. The bus being late for her usual pickup was bad enough, but to be dropped at the wrong corner…well it was almost too much. She would be late arriving home, late having dinner, and all because of the bus.  

She hated the fact that Joe made her take the bus. He didn’t think women were capable of driving. But it was 1958 and lots of women drove. He didn’t need the car, he would be right where she left him this morning, sitting on the porch drinking beer. It was his usual pastime on a hot day like this.

She shifted the weight of the package and blood started dripping out of the soaked brown paper. She tried using her apron to stop the leak, but it wasn’t much help. She didn’t usually wear her apron to the market, but this morning she was in a hurry. 

Almost home, she could see her husband where she knew he’d be. She walked up the steps and quickly dropped the package on his lap.

“Here’s your bloody dinner!”

Prompt #2011 First Line of the Week – Linda Cargill

Standing here I’m mesmerized.

The mountains so outsized

Their beauty, all beyond compare

Cannot believe it as I stare

It’s much too pretty and majestic

Purple and blues, almost mystic

And velvet green of the grass

Such beauty in this mountain pass.

Mother Nature won’t be outdone

I feel I’m a privileged one 

To see all of this in the sun.

https://allaboutwritingandmore.wordpress.com/2017/02/25/daily-picture-prompt-77/

How am I supposed to read anything on WP when my app sends me to a constant blue screen that doesn’t go anywhere? If I go to the Reader that is at the top of my own site, it lets me read one post and if I like or comment I am kicked out of WP altogether. I am having a whole week of these problems. I’ve lost three posts as of this moment. If this one goes through I’m not sure why or how.

https://lindaghill.com/2017/02/24/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-feb-2517/how

It’s almost the time for Mardi Gras

When people in New Orleans take pause

To dress in costumes, beads and masks

And dance, sing and parade on mass

This an old Christian tradition meant

To celebrate before the season of Lent

It started as a pagan festival

But now it’s celebrated by all

Getting wild, throwing beads on strings

To bare breasted women strutting things

You could call it a contest of sorts

And some might think a nasty retort

It’s just a celebratory party there

Music, and dancing with a flare.

May not be for all

It’s just a yearly festival.

https://allaboutwritingandmore.wordpress.com/2017/02/24/daily-word-prompt-21-festival/

Looking out again, I still didn’t see him. How many times I have waited for him like this. He’s not just an easy mark, money for a night. But it gets me by, for a while. He is one of many, so why am I constantly looking for him, waiting? He’s so different from the others. Just because he never hits me or abuses me….I guess that is what makes him different. I wonder what he comes for, if he has a wife, or even a family? Why would such a decent man come to me?

She tips the blinds another time, he still isn’t out there. She will wait, though, she will wait all night. She wants him to come, to talk to her, hold her in that soft, gentle way he has. He is unlike the others, the rough, the lonely, the unattractive, that frequent her services. But they are all the same, in one way or another, nothing like him. 

She walks the floor, throws on a dressing gown, and pours a drink for herself. She wonders if he’ll come tonight. It is their usual night. She wants to see him again. He makes all the others disappear for the time he’s with her, if only for the night. She foolishly imagines a life with him, as if it were possible to leave the life she chose. Chose is what she thinks, belittling herself again. If she chose, she would be married to someone like him, have a real home, and he would love her forever.

If she chose this life, it was because of how she was expected to act. Her father taught her how to please a man. She didn’t think she had a choice then and not now, but to live like this.

https://allaboutwritingandmore.wordpress.com/2017/02/24/photo-fiction-77/

Such soft skin you just need to touch it

Feeling warm, sweet breath nuzzling in your neck

Tiny fingers wrapped around your finger

Holding, cuddling, such a wonderful experience

Take it all in, for it

Comes and goes quickly.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/baby/