The Bag Lady

Have you ever just craved something so strongly you would give or do anything to get it? This was my plight. After spending months with no sleep until seven to ten in the morning, losing all urges to rise at all, finally it came to an end last night. I awoke feeling rested at six this morning. I had tried everything, heavy comforter, extra pillows, and headphones, which by the way are uncomfortable when you sleep on your side, therefore defeating the purpose.

I live in a first floor apartment and my upstairs neighbors seem to awake at ten at night and do various household chores such as vacuuming, washing, drying, and moving furniture. I understand people have different schedules, but I wish they had chosen a first floor residence instead of the one over my small apartment.

Their nighttime activities really start to take off around eleven when they choose to roughhouse with their dog, playing catch with what must be a pretty large ball, playing music and having the occasional screaming session. I admit I’ve had a screaming session or three but that was in a home, with no close neighbors. I mean I was married, it comes with the territory for most. It is every night. So I did the horrible thing.

I wrote a complaint letter to the apartment management at twelve-thirty at night and said I was angry that nothing had been done to either quiet or move these people. The next morning, yesterday, I received a reply. They were served with a noise and pet violation. Last night the dog activity started at ten, and I thought great, nothing’s changed. But a miracle happened, at ten-thirty it was quiet.

After a good night’s sleep I feel like a new old woman!

Prone to prevaricate, the lonely old man, a former malefactor in his youth, loved to amuse his fellow nursing home inhabitants with stories of the city before dawn, when the purveyors of peccadillo were on the streets.

“The days of reliable safeguards walking the streets were not about. There were no patrolmen constantly walking the streets to protect you. If a foe had to be vanquished, you needed to rely on a black suited superhero to fly in and save the day. His name was Batman. If his image was cast upon the wall of a tall building or even from a lighted glass image to the stars, he would come to your aid.”

The regulars at the nursing home, although bored of his fantastic accounts, had nothing better to do. It was either him or listen to the boom of the constant television being watched by the hard of hearing residents. The old man reveled in his story telling, which were the only moments when his eyes truly sparkled with fun.

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/02/05/bonus-wordle-super-hero/

“Eureka! I see the tracks! We’ll find it soon, my friend. No more worries, your wife will be pleased!”

It had been three days that Mona had been confined to her bed. Three days of Charlie waiting on her hand and foot, and he was tired of it. Husbandly duties aside, Mona was a constant complainer. A good old roll in the hay once a month was all she required. The rest of the month she would shuffle around the house in those sandles, the floppy ones that make that flap noise with every step. Charlie always stayed out of the house during the day so he wouldn’t hear it.

While Mona couldn’t possibly step outside her bed without the sandal, Charlie confessed he didn’t miss the flapping.

“Found it!” Charlie’s respite of noise over.

141 words

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2018/02/05/fffaw-challenge-week-of-february-6-2018/

Rose shaded cheeks start

Her head is bowed discreetly

Shyness shown by blush

RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #187 Shy&Blush

I guess when we’re born, we are automatically enrolled in this big mess that is LIFE, like it or not. We didn’t ask for it, plan on it, or want it. It was decided for us by our parents and whatever they decided to enroll in before becoming parents. You would hope people who decide to become parents would take a bit of time to make that decision. It’s another life you bring into the world, it’s your responsibility, your choice, not theirs. So before you make that choice for this new innocent life, think!

I wanted children and so did my husband. We were lucky, and they turned out well. Ultimately they had to choose what life they would lead, but we were responsible to do our best while they were under our care. Today the family dinners, the closeness, is interrupted by machines, an old fashioned term. Cell phones, computers, tv, all take some of that responsibility away from parents, and that is irresponsible parenting. Everyone works in or out of the home, is tired, frustrated by whatever problems come up. The lives you create need nurturing by you, not a texting friend or electronic screen.

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

Is this my karma

Endless sleepless nights of noise

Puzzled as to why

Upstairs lives create havoc

Exhaustion muddles my mind

Colleen’s Weekly 2018 #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge, No. 70: “DESTINY & CHALLENGE” #SynonymnsOnly

“It was an accident ” That is all Mary kept repeating, crocodile tears running down her face. Meanwhile her little sister sat across the room, on a stool, with an innocent smile. Being only three, she didn’t know her big sister was in trouble and just enjoyed the attention.

“You know better than to use the scissors without me and now look what you’ve done!” Mary’s mother was very upset as she swept up the beautiful blonde curls she adored. Her daughter Lizzie’s head was now a mass of medium length stubble.

Mary looked up for a second and winked at Lizzie. She really did love her sister, but hearing every day how beautiful her long blonde locks were, it was time for a change. She wiped away the false sadness and told her mother she was sorry. Mary then retreated to her room which was her punishment. Looking into her mirror, she slowly brushed her long brown hair.

Time To Write: Sentence Starter 42

I live alone but not a hermit

Most any visitor I permit

Of course my door has a few keys

So one can enter if they please

This is needed in case I fall

And find I can’t get back up at all

Thank heavens for portable phones

Otherwise I’d still be laying alone

If for some reason I might not answer

They’ll be here quicker than a hip hop dancer

Making light is the way I feel

Humor always my hoped-for appeal.

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

Hey, it’s February, lots happening! Presidents’ birthdays, Valentines Day, Cancer Awareness Month, and more. Anniversaries and birthdays this month for my family which means, my friends, that dreaded word. . .shopping!😂 But never let it be said I don’t love hanging out with my 18 year old chauffeur, and he’ll be picking me up this afternoon for just that!

As I put on the badge above, I realized maybe some of you don’t know, but it’s just a symbol, no actual joining required, no fees–everyone is invited by ceenphotography.com to Share Your World! A partial copy of her post below, so come on down! No money or prizes to win, just fun! And make sure to visit cee’s blog at the link below:

My answers:

1. Sorry, I have to keep this top secret. Let’s just say a cabin, fireplace, and warm quilt would be involved. ☺️

2. There are more than one, but on the top of the list would be the lady I wrote about last week, the former nun. She is the most generous person I know with her time, love, and talents.

3. Tag, Duck Duck Goose, Hide and Seek, Dress up, Cowboys and Indians, Scavenger Hunt, Milkman. The only “toy” I remember is a swing, my absolute favorite thing to do.

I am certainly grateful that my family is getting over pneumonia, bronchitis and the flu. Looking forward to my daughter and her husband’s 25th wedding anniversary tomorrow! Congratulations, you so deserve it!❤️

http://ceenphotography.com/2018/02/05/share-your-world-february-5-2018/

Fumbling with the tubes of color, so many unnecessary items cluttering up the desk, she pushed them all aside. Frustrated, she yelled aloud, “where are the reds? I wanted reds today!” Marion looked everywhere, almost frantic in her search. “I’m done with these sad blues and greens, I want bright red and orange, golden yellows! That’s what I need today. . .please. I can’t take another sad day.”

Marion was pleading with someone, only she knew who or what it was. Asking for help, asking for a remedy for her sadness, her depression. She used to be a jolly fun loving person, but now, hidden away in this ancient abode, with only her work to keep her company, she was drifting into a deep depression. Always having artistic talent, Marion was a sought after painter until tragedy struck her life. Her usually uplifting, sometimes even amusing work had turned dark. Her regular followers started disappearing, and her profitable career came to an end.

A recluse in her now dilapidated home, Marion painted constantly, striving every day to get back the happiness of her youth. She only had an occasional visit from the local art gallery owner, who brought her new painting supplies. He had watched her demise, but seemed unable to assist her in recovery. Michael continued to display her work, but Marion’s sadness was revealed in her work and lost its appeal.

Michael knocked and Marion answered with a plea, “I can’t find my reds, can you help me?” Of course Michael was startled after her only requesting blue hues for months, he hoped this was a good sign.

“Of course, Marion! What are you painting today?” He took the opportunity to open the heavy curtains to shed light on the empty canvas. “I see mostly blues and greens here, let me look further. ” Marion was hiding from the light, but let him search. He noticed dark canvases covered with blues and black. If he could only find the brighter colors, maybe this would be a turning point. He looked everywhere and found them.

Ending 1: He gave the tube and some other bright colors to Marion and watched her create something beautiful, at last. “You’re back, Marion!”

🤔🤔🤔🤔

Ending 2: Not finding the red or any colorful tubes of paint, Michael told her he would be back straightaway with the needed colors. While Michael was gone, she looked around at the lightened room. There were cobwebs in the corners, dust laden furniture everywhere except the painting desk. The sun glinted off a mirror across the room. Marion went over to peek at herself, something she hadn’t done in months. Her reflection took her breath away, realizing she had grown old and haggard. Reasoning to herself she needed some color, red of course, she searched but could find none. There was only one thing to do.

Michael returned and rushed into the studio. He was so excited to think Marion would be painting again, recovered from months of sadness. “I have the new colors, all your favorites!” He saw the canvas, splashed with red, an odd brownish red. Then he saw Marion, on the floor, wrists draining blood, red blood.

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/02/04/sunday-writing-prompt-240-collage-prompt-39/