The Bag Lady

Saturday, a day to sleep in, no worries about dress, hairdo, makeup, that’s what it’s supposed to be, right?

Then you get the call……because when you got home at one last night from watching Mission Impossible with your grandson and went to the ten o’clock show because the seven was sold out, you’d been babysitting all day Friday, tired, but really wanted to see the movie, and spend time with your grandson since he’s leaving for college in ten days and since he’s been working nonstop all summer you’ve rarely had any time with him, you know, the great one I’ve written about many times, you go, you have fun, but then it is Saturday and you wake up all warm and cozy, don’t want to move and you think you’d better turn your phone on, and of course it rings immediately, some horrid Samsung choice of ringer when other people with iPhones get to choose really neat rings like the GoT theme song, or even Knight Rider, remember that?

So it’s raining, nicely breezy and cool, and I have company for the rest of the weekend. Everyone else is at a soccer tournament in Denver.

A stream of consciousness, for sure, actually more like a FLOOD! Whatever, have a good day and a better one tomorrow. 🙂🙃👍🏻🌷

http://lindaghill.com/2018/08/03/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-august-4-18/

She swept in, white gauze dress flowing around her tanned body. More than one interested young man noticed the beauty that entered the bar.

Sand fell from her feet but no one seemed to mind. The afternoon was hot and most of the hotel guests had taken a break from the sun and gone inside. She walked up to the counter and the bartender asked her peference. “Nantucket breeze” she ordered.

He smiled a knowing grin, as she always had the same thing, every afternoon the past week. He fixed the drink in a slow manner, hardly taking his eyes off her, thinking “some days it does pay to get out of bed…” Bartending can be a dull job, especially at a resort like this one. It was only a few customers that made it worthwhile and she was one of them.

August Writing Prompts

Walking in the yard this day

Tripped and fell, I say

What could cause it. . .zounds!

Heard a whisper, “mysterious mounds”

Looked around to see them laughing

A bunch of moles, some even clapping!

Made their homes so indiscreet

Tripped my otherwise deft feet

It was time to seek revenge

Limped over to the henge

Grabbed the easiest stones to find

And peppered the little mole’s behind

Laughing, clapping all that stopped

When from their back a fox did pop

Walking on smooth lawn tomorrow

Moles are gone, I’ll feel no sorrow.

August Writing Prompts

He placed it to the side of his brow

Fedora style popular now

Brushed off his shoulders with a shrug

Tapped his shoe on the edge of the rug

Such a shine on them he thought with glee

It’s the little things she loves to see.

Looked in the mirror, gave a last glance

Not leaving any small thing to chance

Brushed his hands together, saying, “that’s that”

Grabbed his coat and left his flat.

👁👁

For Scott’s Daily Prompt: Flat

https://thehouseofbailey.wordpress.com/2018/08/03/scotts-daily-prompt-flat/

Rolling in from the sea, it moved up the shoreline, over the sand, and seemed to intensify in color and shape. Formerly a misty substance, now enveloping the low bushes and moving quickly to the trees.

Birds screeched, deer ran from the area, small rodents and lizards dug deep, finding solace from the heavy cloud. Only a few remained, choking on what seemed intangible, yet threatening. As curious gulls approached the darkening mass, they stopped short in midair, backing away and flying quickly back to the water.

There was one surviving observer, offshore, poised on a mast’s rigging. He was fascinated to see what happened as the sea opened up and spewed out this monstrosity. His fellow crewmen weren’t so lucky, or maybe it was their fate. They had been diving for forbidden treasure while he stayed aboard. As the bodies popped up to the surface one by one, he climbed higher on the ropes hoping to escape whatever evil was below the surface.

The mysterious mass disappeared over the hill and the crewman climbed down to a small rowboat attached to the ship. Now safe in a cove, saw the cloud return to its original place in the sea.

200 words

https://flashfictionforthepracticalpractitioner.wordpress.com/2018/08/01/flash-fiction-for-the-purposeful-practitioner-2018-week-31/

A stop sign

A stop light

Not unusual these days

Often asked to move along

No one stops to inquire

A man, a woman, a teen

Alone or with children

Sometimes a dog

Often a scribbled cardboard sign

Wanting help, a job, money, food

Weary, sometimes aged or worn

Sometimes sporting carts

The homeless

Or a traveler

These souls

No longer strange in the neighborhood.

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/08/02/tale-weaver-182-strange-things-in-my-neighbourhood-august-2nd/

You have to be careful with expression

You might need to use repression

Speaking without discretion

Might leave the wrong impression

〰〰

FOWC with Fandango — Expression

A fragrant fog obscured the secret doors on 75th street. Of course I had not been in London before and it had been a long journey. I had always heard about the iconic foggy London town but had been told it was also a myth.

However, the fish market odor was unmistakable, certainly one of my lesser favorites. I had come in secret you see, as most assassins do and found a willing harborite to sneak me onshore. A pouch of silver usually bought temporary silence and that’s all I needed. My job would be accomplished quickly and he was paid to wait.

Finding the correct house number I made fast work of the person within. One short stab right into his heart was all it took.

I made my way back through the passageway and was once again safe on the sea.

***

2018/08/01/August-writing-prompts/