Monthly Archives:May 2012

Telling Stories

May 9th, 2012 / Categories: Moose Nuggets / 8 Comments »

“Annie, I need you to look at me. You need to tell Mama the truth now, you hear?”

The six year old girl’s big blue eyes filled quickly with tears. “I will, Mama. I didn’t mean to. It was me. I picked your favorite white rose.” Annie swiped her sleeve across her face leaving a long trail behind.

Mama drew Annie close in a hug and whispered into her hair, “Why do you protect him so? Why do you insist on telling stories?”

Annie looked at her brother. “He’s so little, Mama. He didn’t mean to. Please spank me instead.”
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Lance’s 100 Word Song pick of the week is Tracy Chapman’s Telling Stories. If you, like I, have not seen/heard this music video, please gp and check it out.

There were so many ways I could have gone with this, but I have a child-like heart and a Gramma-like love for littles who have bigger hearts than mine. So, here’s Annie. What fiction do you have in your life? (looking at myself in the all-telling mirror)

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An Enigma Named Marty

May 7th, 2012 / Categories: Moose Nuggets, trifecta / 10 Comments »

Marty liked keeping them guessing: wearing clothes fit for a man or woman; a body that was slender, but muscular; crossed legs demurely at ankles or (sometimes) at a manly 90 degree angle; gray hair cropped cleanly.

Marty’s voice was gravelly, the product of too many years smoking cigarillos. That could also be the reason for the creases scored deeply into Marty’s face. Years of wind, sun, and hard living added to the aged, but ageless, face looking back from the mirror across the bar.

Marty seldom left with another person. When someone had the balls to guess – or ask – on which side of the fence Marty rode the answer was short, sweet, to the point, and no-nonsense: “I’m an enigma. Got the nards to find out?”

That generally put an end to the conversation. Marty would raise a finger with nonchalance to the server and a beer would appear. All was right in the world Marty traveled.
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Have you ever walked into a room – a bar, the train station, your pick – and wondered “is that a man or woman?” Did you then decide it was nonaya? (That is, none of your business.) Yeah, me, too. Here’s to the Martys in the world – godspeed and safe journey. I love your right to be an enigma.

Trifecta tossed down yet another challenge. The above is my answer. Where is yours?

Sam

May 7th, 2012 / Categories: Moose Nuggets, words / 8 Comments »

Thriftless, shiftless, spitless Sam mutters as he ambles along.

I have no dollars, not a penny to call my own today. So I wander where e’er I will, seeking whate’er I may.

Toothless, hairless, grizzled old man. Suspenders falling down. Laughed at. Pointed at. Seldom asked what – who – might help.

Just call me Sam. Or Joe or Bill. Whoever reminds you of me.

Hungry? Why yes I am. A loaf of bread? I thank’ee kindly

I’ll be just on my way now. No need to fret. Thanks for the handout. Thanks for talking to me. May you be ever blest.
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She’s back! and as challenging as ever. This is for VV’s 100 Word challenge: Thriftless. Go and write your words.

Dead Man’s Gun

May 5th, 2012 / Categories: Moose Nuggets / 1 Comment »

Enough!

I’ve nothing left to give you
This day I call shotgun
Dead Man’s Curve
a’coming

Stop the car
Stop the flight
Stop the war
It stops tonight

You think I’ve got
Nothing left to give
Nothing left to fight for
You’re WRONG!

See me
See my eyes
Hear me
Hear my cries

You’ll be looking back
As I raise my hand
Holding daddy’s last gift

He’s dead and gone
The steel is cold
But my heart is colder

It’s enough
Long enough
Short enough
Enough!

My heart is my own
Take what’s yours
And be gone!
This ends now.

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Lance challenged us with Dead Man’s Gun – writing 100 words. I’ve been pondering what to write ever since it was posted Tuesday night. I reached for a pen a few minutes ago and this is the result.

Anger issues? Me? Nahhhhh

My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog

3 Lies and a Truth

May 5th, 2012 / Categories: Moose Nuggets, trifecta, words / 5 Comments »

I dabble at writing, but am no author. I have no byline, no book on a shelf. I worship at the throne of those who can and wonder, why not me? I read, forget, read again, and forget anew. I write of winsome things and heartfelt joys and pains; then wonder who reads, forgets, reads again, and forgets anew. I have words pounding in my skull that spill onto laptop, onto paper, into hearts. But still I know. I dabble only. I cannot write. I can only pour out my soul – for me. Where’s my pen? I must write.

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A reversal of the Trifextra Challenge. There are at least three lies there. And at least one truth. 99 words – because lies take so many more.

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