Write a piece of prose that incorporates the given set of words and they have to come in exactly the order given, but you may break it up with punctuation.
The maximum number of words is 144 (which is a gross) including the given line. Many try to hit that mark exactly, but it’s not mandatory. “It is a moon wrapped in brown paper“
As I looked on, the butcher wrapped the raw heart in waxed paper… then into a brown paper bag. There was more than the usual blood about, so the burly man grabbed a mop and scoured the area under furious pressure. He growled through clenched teeth, “I promised you the moon, Gladys? It is a moon wrapped in brown paper, now! Tell me again how you should have given your heart to that sailor, Darling. What? At a loss for words once in your life! TELL ME!”
All I could do was watch.
The butcher tossed his tools in a closet then scrubbed his crimson hands.
I raced toward the bright-lighted exit as the room got all fuzzy, then heard the slamming freezer and my husband screaming.
” Gladys!!! How ’bout I give ‘sailor boy’ YOUR damn cold frozen heart on-Valentine’s Day?! He’ll love THAT!”
Without hesitationshe threw her body between the child and the oncoming speeding car. The young officer was brushed aside, as the vehicle screeched to a halt, sustaining a cut to her forehead from the sideview mirror. A possible tragic scene was altered to a ‘near miss‘ because of her quick reflexes. The facts that led her to be at this place at an exact moment to save a life would surely wake her up in the night for weeks. A call about a possible rabid raccoon -out during the day- in the area had her roaming the quiet neighborhood alone and on foot. She’d raced to the sound of frantically barking dogs and the rest was history. After sending the child on her way, the officer cautiously approached the driver’s side window of the errant vehicle. Perhaps the recent rain downpour had been a factor for the swerving or was the driver texting? The window squeaked as it slowly lowered. Immediately smells of marijuana and alcohol assaulted the officer. She knew she’d be nailing this guy for something! After wiping blood from the still leaking laceration, away from her right eye, she drew her revolver and shouted to the driver, “Get out of the vehicle with your hands where I can see them!”. Suddenly her body was vibrating! As she dropped toward the pavement, she saw the flashes from the gun but never heard the shots. The officer was dead before she hit the ground. The car and occupants raced away. Before the ambulance arrived, a female raccoon rushed from nearby bushes with her rescued lost baby and disappeared down a storm drain.
The alligator rose as slowly as the moon. At first, only a few bubbles gave away his presence, then a sucking sound, followed by rings that grew larger-pulsating- as they spread until the ragged twenty foot log of a monster emerged on the river’s silver mirrored surface. Two lifeless eyes glowed as the beast effortlessly moved toward the lantern signaling a meal. Diana was used to the ritual but inaudibly gasped as she sat hypnotized by the gargantuan reptile easing toward her. Her chore had become mundane but this prehistoric crescendo never ceased to excite her. This one had been a bit difficult. A married man, totally sloshed, who ran around showing off photos of his six kids. What the hell was he doing at that place? That convention didn’t usually appeal to ‘family men’. But Briggs had nodded at him sealing his fate. She lured him into the alley and the ‘boys’ did the rest. This time, she hadn’t watched. Briggs handed her the envelope containing her fee, stuffed four trash bags in her pick-up, then slapped the tailgate saying,” Tell the Big Guy, thanks again.”.
They’d just met on a tour of the local most haunted property. It was the place where a jealous man named Darren Jacobs had stabbed his adulterous wife to death and then, in utter despair, had thrown himself off of the building’s roof.
Claire had appeared beside him in the ticket line and their shared interest in the occult tied the knot. But, the ‘getting acquainted’ playful chatter started to annoy the others who were there for the ‘story’, and hopefully a glimpse of an apparition, so he slipped her his address with an invitation to prepare her a home cooked meal that evening. She nodded in acceptance and they ducked away never finishing the whole event. Ralph, feeling like a giddy teenager, went straight away to the market and collected ingredients for the perfect meal including a crown rib roast.
Precisely at seven, there was a knock at his door and there stood Claire with the prettiest smile and the deepest brown eyes he’d ever seen. She sipped on wine as he set the table listing his own impressive ghostly encounters. He was certain his departed wife was hiding the TV control in his couch, on a regular basis, and making his keys hard to find! The meal was a great success and after three glasses of wine set the mood for his romantic advances, he reached across the table taking her hand. Ralph was trying the tacky ‘line’ that her eyes ‘touched his soul’ when the carving knife stood up on its tip spinning furiously! Only seconds passed before it sailed forcefully at Claire’s chest sticking deeply into the back of the wooden dining chair. Claire had vanished! Just before Ralph fainted from fright, he thought he heard Claire shouting, “Darren! Why must you follow me EVERYWHERE?!”.
There’s a scary lack of humility plaguing posts about the “evils of not wearing masks” including claims of fellow citizens ‘murdering’ others or having a nonchalant intention to ‘murder’ others. First, most authors claiming that ‘anti-maskers’ (cute label) are primary spreaders and therefore primary ‘killers’ aren’t scientists or even paying attention, IMO. They’re borderline hysterical. No courtroom trial could prove what they’re charging others with, yet, they deem themselves judges and juries at a time we ought to be united. Try answering these questions, then decide whether the charge of murder holds up beyond a reasonable doubt. [That is still the standard for such a vile charge, isn’t it?] 1. Did the scientists first encountering this virus wear masks? Was it still able to spread? 2. Did nursing home staff, where the majority of lethal cases centered, wear masks? 3. Can the small size of this virus pass through the ‘everyday’ masks of ‘maskers’? (Hint: Yes.) 4. Are masks universally expected to stop the spread? How about people who keep adjusting their masks with bare hands or ones wearing bandanas? Are bandanas anti-masks or masks? 5. Does the virus infect people through the eyes or in ways yet to be detected? (some totally house bound people have gotten it and many unmasked people haven’t, in documented cases) 6. Are frequent hand washing and ‘social distancing’ more or less effective than masks? If more, then does a frequently hand washing, socially distant, person serve as less of a risk than a masked person not observing those measures? Who really knows how careful others are about exposure, cleanliness, or the reusing of dirty masks? Might masks just be visible signals not foolproof protections? 7. Are these ‘anti-masker spreaders’ helping expedite herd immunity which will keep everyone safer? Far more people, who have gotten the virus, have lived than died. 8. Once vaccinated, people are asked to still wear masks. Why? Who are they protecting in that case? I don’t directly know the answers to any of those questions and could ask dozens more without reaching a guilty verdict of murder for anyone. Two choices available… We can take precautions that we deem best for ourselves and leave others to the freedom of choosing theirs. We can stop the constant labeling of our fellow citizens as stupid, or worse, evil, when we don’t agree and have some humility about what we don’t actual know, Or, we can keep posting about ‘murders’ in our midst who are not wearing masks thus exposing more about the lack of humility of those accusers than any credible evidence to convict those accused.
The link above is to the recent news article about the tragic killing of an Australian young man by some “punks” who were reportedly bored. The news media has offered many reasons for this atrocity. To name a few:
The US gun culture…
A racial hate crime…
Violence inspired by game playing…
I believe that I stumbled upon the real deeper cause when I commented in a reaction to this horror … “We need a “war on punks”!”
A punk, in my mind, is a young male who is striving for manhood by means of intimidation and violence.
Sadly, and dangerously, our society has lost the traditional definition of manhood.
Some of the reasons are economic but many stem from a “watering down” of the roles men play. Confused? So are our sons.
Back in the day, men were the providers of protection and the essentials for family survival. Since caveman times, the males had a clear role and spent (testosterone inspired) energy to fill that position.
Enter the women’s movement, government assistance, modern conveniences, absentee fathers and unemployment and you have idle time in the hands of males without direction.
Remember, to every action comes an equal and opposite reaction?
The women’s movement was a GOOD thing. This is not a puritanical conservative documentary, in the least. It is, however, a thoughtful wondering about the male experience in an attempt to shed light on a grave predicament in our culture.
“What makes a man?”
Punks seem to believe it is an adrenaline rush inspired by a dangerous act.
How did that happen?
First, we have taken the pointed scissors away from kids. That’s right. This cushioned, ultra-safety oriented, society has had a hand in making boys into sissies. Their confidence and male bravado has no inspiration.
I asked a 10-year-old to help me with lawn mowing, the other day. He said he’d never been asked. There must be a warning label, somewhere, which claims that my suggestion was illegal! (ATVs have labels too. “No one under twelve can operate them.” Funny though, the youth-sized ones are generally too small for most twelve-year-olds.)
Secondly, fatherhood is a duty not a choice. Modern society has lost sight of that in a nutshell. Boys need quality men to show them how to become men of quality.
Thirdly, Idle time and video game playing are not allowing for physical exertion. Scientifically, the lack of physical exertion MUST have an adverse effect upon testosterone fueled adolescents! I’m sure there is a study somewhere which would verify that adrenaline is a necessary drug in a young man’s life.
There must be a way to counteract the poisonous conditions of our sons’ environments.
Sports teams are one way. But many have not the means, nor interest, to take part in sports.
May I suggest, that in dealing with boys who have been expelled from or have dropped out of school, who have had scrapes with the police or are members of gangs, that we seriously entertain a type of boot camp. (Yes, those who have no pre-existing disability, only.)
Of course, the boot camp would be the bottom line but they could be exempt from going if they entered a mentor program or volunteered in community service opportunities.
NOW, the race card would be thrown at this idea. The chances are, the black community would be in high attendance. (Unemployment and absentee fathers the catalyst.) BUT, instead of thinking this was an effort to marginalize minorities…why wouldn’t we consider it helping where the help is most needed?
These are just infant ideas for a possible cause and solution for a deep problem that just won’t be going away. What do you think?
There’s so much outrage these days. Something has stirred up our emotions and I’m at a loss to find one single cause. The overall theme of this simmering pot is misunderstanding with a big helping of mistrust on top. The visible combatants, via our sensationlizing media, in these divisions are claiming the ability to divine the intent of anyone who has a differing opinion. The core element to the outrage seems to be a misguided philosophy that assumes, those who differ, do so from a purely mean-spirited inspiration.
I’d like to offer a true story that helped me to realize that most prejudice comes from ignorance not an evil agenda.
A few years ago, I witnessed one of Nature’s violent “goings on”. I was alerted to a “bird battle” in my back yard by dozens of squawking crows. As I watched the commotion, there was a flailing of wings and seeming screams coming from a gang of large birds on my lawn. One red-tailed hawk emerged from that pile, and flew off, followed by more crows than I could count. My curiosity brought me straight to the, now abandoned, crime scene to discover three dead fledglings on the ground. My human heart was saddened but I returned to my daily routine.
A few hours later, my neighbor had taken up the task of burying the victims and joined me at my doorstep with his tale of the tragedy .
Before I tell you about his understanding of the bird “murders”, I’d like to point out that most people have a small knowledge of birds, and Nature in general. In fact, until my curiosity of natural things had awakened, I was among those folks who could identify only Robins, Crows, Blue Jays and the, occasional, Cardinal. These birds are of the highly visible type that most people come to know. With that commonness , there also comes wide-spread folk-lore about them. Blue Jays are brash and bossy, Robins are sweet, Cardinals are special and Crows are murderers. In fact, a group of crows is referred to as a “murder of crows”. (In defense of crows, they are actually primarily scavengers and highly intelligent to boot. I’m sure, the common place sightings of these fellows eating carrion was the impetus of the “killer” label.)
Now, back to the story:
My kind neighbor broke into a tale of murderous crows who attacked a red-tailed hawk nest, leaving baby hawks littered in our shared yard. It was true that we witnessed the same event but ignorance was there too.
I proceeded to tell him my version. The dead babies were crows. I showed him the straight beak of one of “the fallen”. It was easy to understand his confusion though. Crows are big birds and are about the size of many hawks. The dead babies were very close to leaving the nest, therefore, they were almost full-sized.
My tale continued with the murderous intent shifted to the hawk. By the time I had finished, his sympathy had done a one-eighty. My tale ended with an admiration for the community and brotherhood which had brought so many crows, out of nowhere, to aid in the rescue attempt.
So you see, my neighbor was not being mean-spirited in his inaccuracy. It was his ignorance that perpetuated the prejudice.
I’m hoping this story, inspires you to take a moment to explain yourself when someone has a different opinion and refrain from judging others as mean-spirited. Overall, the most important message, here, is to stay informed and curious.
This is perhaps the least specific blog you will find. A variety of DIY projects, book reviews, health tips, yoga poses, fashion ideas, recipes or something altogether different depending on my current mood. I've never been pigeon-holed into one category so neither is my blog. Strap in and enjoy the ride!
Lipsa de comunicare este mai profundă și mai nocivă decât orice altă lipsă. Prețuiți ceea ce aveți deja! Pornesc într-o nouă zi din viață…fie ca aceasta (și toate celelalte)să fie o zi bună Pentru Tine LUME!