Three Line Tales #134

It was only at the beginning of the day, at the sun’s rise, when the miracle appeared. The indigenous population of the small forgotten island worshipped freely every morning. It was a tradition passed on from the earliest inhabitants of this undiscovered land.

The belief was held by all ancestors that this daily ritual was the secret to their unique way of life, living in harmony with no outside influences to harm them. The rising light through the natural tunnel was their life giving protector.

Outsiders heard rumors of such a place, calling it Utopia, but it was never revealed.

Three Line Tales, Week 134

MLMM Tale Weaver – Taphephobia

I had to add Michael’s list of phobias because I found one of them hilarious. . .any guesses? Thanks again Michael, for great prompts.

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She didn’t much care for the out of doors, being sickly most of her late adult life, chose to remain inside. Occasionally she would be forced to leave her small abode to take what they called therapeutic walks, a supposed therapy for her condition. Marie had caregivers in the way of two nieces who visited often, thinking they knew what was best for their aging aunt.

Their unwanted attention seemed to increase after a family gathering was held at her husband’s funeral. At this meeting, the remaining family members consisting of the two nieces, one distant nephew and an older sister all met to decide Marie’s future.

She didn’t need their intervention but seemed helpless to change any of the circumstances. Marie was “allowed” to remain in her home since the mortgage had been paid years earlier, and any other living expenses would be covered by her monthly benefit. She and her husband received the benefit after years of employment in a government office. Marie felt no remorse in accepting this stipend which was lowered considerably after her husband’s death. She got by, as the saying goes and was perfectly satisfied living by herself in her own home.

At the meeting it was disclosed that her husband’s will included a clause saying that if anything happened to Marie, the descendants–nieces and nephew, would reap the reward. Marie scoffed at the thought. There were no savings, no reward as it turned out, but a life well lived. After this misinformation circulated, the attention of the two nieces increased to the point Marie was getting frustrated by their visits.

Marie was a mentally strong woman even in her early eighties, strong and independent. However, she did have a couple of phobias: spiders and being buried alive. The fear of spiders she slowly overcame because living alone she had no choice, but the burial fear cause her to request cremation upon her death.

The nieces decided Marie was taking a bit too long in succumbing to old age and devised a plan. The walks were increased and Marie was getting more tired. Often stopping to rest on a log or boulder, the nieces would leave her to sit while seemingly busying themselves in conversation about the surroundings. They had previously set up a trap of sorts and were sure Marie was sufficiently tired to fall into it (by mistake).

Their plan worked, Marie fell into the leaf covered hole without a whimper as the two girls pretended not to notice. The local costabulary dismissed the whole event as an accident and the girls received no consequences.

Of course there was another will reading after Marie’s cremation. The girls could hardly hide their anxiety over the reading. The minister present read the will aloud.

“This is the last will and testament of Mrs. Marie Vanheusen….hereby revoking any previous wills and testaments as of this date ( a year earlier)….I hereby bequeath all my worldly possessions although meager, to the Sisters of Faith charity…

The nieces looked at each other in shock. They had hoped to enjoy Marie’s home and possessions for themselves. Now they only had each other and their miserable lives.

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https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/08/23/tale-weaver-185-phobias-23rd-august/

Daily Addictions: Decline

George was, well, let’s just say “large”

His private nickname whispered – “barge”

George liked everything he ate

Nothing escaped his large plate

Every meat or fish was pleased

Every bread and every cheese

Every drink of beer or wine

Every egg creme shake, divine

And that’s not all that caused decline

Refused to share claiming, it’s all mine!

Greedy George was his fame

He had no one else to blame

Hardly moving from the table

Was his fate, became unable

However, George was happy there

Continuously eating every fare.

RIP George.

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https://dailyaddictions542855004.wordpress.com/2018/08/23/decline/

100 Word Wednesday #85

Disguised females, sultry women, children at play, scenes of the forest and sea

All are present here. Art in many forms all for the world to see.

Whether the earth is your choice for beauty au natural

There’s also a need and a call

For art in cubes or squiggled paint

Or religious icons of a patron saint

Art is in the eye of the beholder

Appreciated more as one grows older

Graffiti is controversial art that’s new

But so was Dali in twenty-two

Art is loved and hated it’s true

But art carved on streets to view?

Is impressive!

100 Word Wednesday: Week 85