Here I am, walking through another endless antique mall as the folks look for yet another obscure piece of glassware. At least it's one of the more interesting malls. It's a little junky, which means I might have a shot at finding something really quirky and neat.
I see an old, black rotary phone sitting all alone on a table a few booths ahead. I have to admit to a bit of nostalgia when I see it. We had a rotary wall phone when I was a kid - complete with the party line we could hardly ever use because of old Ms. Carr constantly gossiping to her friends. I see this phone doesn't have the phone line that connected it to the wall jack.
I walk closer to the phone, curious about the price. Just as I reach for the tag, imagine my surprise when the thing rings. Out of curosity, I can't resist answering it.
"Hello?"
I hear a deep, ominious voice on the other end. "You better watch your back." it says. I'm so startled, I don't know what to say.
"I know what you've done. Did you think you could commit such a blaphesmy and not be noticed? You can't hide from me, much less the entire celestial army. I will make damn sure you will burn in the deepest depths of hell for this travesty, Leonard Trapaski."
Are you kidding me? I get a phantom phone call and it's a wrong number? I finally find my voice and say, "Who?!"
There is a startled silence on the other end of the phone. "Who is this?"
"Definitely not Leonard Trapaski," I say in my unmistakable for anything but feminine voice.
More startled silence.
"Oh....um....uh...my bad. I...um...have a...uh...haveaniceday."
I hear a click and then the silence of a dead phone. I find myself looking at the handset, down the phone and back to the handset before I put it back into the cradle. Maybe I'm not as interested in the old phone as I thought. Of course, now I'm wondering why exactly Leonard Trapasky has an entire celestial army of angels after him.
Perhaps I'll just let that one pass. Who knows who - or what - will be calling next.
Showing posts with label storytelling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label storytelling. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 04, 2013
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Drunken Chaos Reigns in Sumner County
Joannie Higgenbotham, Staff Writer
Firefighters and Emergency Rescue were called to a residence outside of Portland today. What they found when they arrived was unexpected and put several of the respondents lives in danger, as well as the surrounding neighborhood.
T. Phineas Rex, of Portland, had been drinking when he fell off the table he had been using as a sundeck. Mr. Rex fell two feet, injuring his left arm. When Emergency rescue arrived, Mr. Rex was in a drunken rage, yelling "It's the extinction all over again, man!" He then proceeded to lunge at EMTs and firefighters while claiming they were "out to get him." During the melee, Mr. Rex snapped his teeth and swiped his tail at those present, knocking down one EMT and ripping the coat of a firefighter.
Mr. Rex then entered a neighbor's yard where he proceeded to climb onto a dog and ride it as it ran, frightened, around the neighborhood. After several minutes, Mr. Rex fell off the dog and passed out in a nearby yard.
One of Mr. Rex's neighbors, who would only identify herself as Azra, witnessed the episode. All she would say about the incident was, "Been hitting the cider again, has he?"
Mr. Rex is now resting at home. No one was injured but charges of Public Intoxication and Endangerment are pending.
Firefighters and Emergency Rescue were called to a residence outside of Portland today. What they found when they arrived was unexpected and put several of the respondents lives in danger, as well as the surrounding neighborhood.
T. Phineas Rex, of Portland, had been drinking when he fell off the table he had been using as a sundeck. Mr. Rex fell two feet, injuring his left arm. When Emergency rescue arrived, Mr. Rex was in a drunken rage, yelling "It's the extinction all over again, man!" He then proceeded to lunge at EMTs and firefighters while claiming they were "out to get him." During the melee, Mr. Rex snapped his teeth and swiped his tail at those present, knocking down one EMT and ripping the coat of a firefighter.
Mr. Rex then entered a neighbor's yard where he proceeded to climb onto a dog and ride it as it ran, frightened, around the neighborhood. After several minutes, Mr. Rex fell off the dog and passed out in a nearby yard.
One of Mr. Rex's neighbors, who would only identify herself as Azra, witnessed the episode. All she would say about the incident was, "Been hitting the cider again, has he?"
Mr. Rex is now resting at home. No one was injured but charges of Public Intoxication and Endangerment are pending.
Wednesday, June 06, 2012
A gardener's tale...
I've been harvesting the seed from my arugula and purple kale plants. I have to, especially after the last time. I didn't know. I just. Didn't. Know.
I was looking forward to huge bowls of salad when I first planted them. All those purple and green leaves. Gourmands called them 'spicy,' but most folks I knew just said they were bitter. My plans worked well - bowls and bowls of salads came out of my patch. Arugula, kale, romaine. Sweet lettuces too, to balance the bitterness: oak leaf, grand rapids, black seeded simpson. I had them all.
When the arugula bloomed, I daydreamed about even more salads. Same with the kale. The plants were prolific, putting out thousands of seed and dispersing them before I even realized they were ready. Again, I didn't think much about it. I just thought I'd find plants in strange places for the next few months.
Then the people started disappearing all across northern Sumner County. One or two at first then more. It soon spread to southern Kentucky and beyond. No one knew what to think about it. The people were just...gone.
Someone soon noticed there was arugula growing in every place a person had disappeared. A few plants by a front door. Several hidden beneath the weeds by a hiking trail. Later, people noticed purple kale growing in some of those places as well.
They had gotten smart. They had gotten hungry.
The authorities got curious and dug up some of the plants. It was horrible. Bits of synthetic fibers, rubber soles from shoes and tiny bone fragments were found tangled within the roots. No one knows to this day how they managed to dig the them up without becoming a part of the debris. Especially now that we know how the plants fed themselves.
You see, somehow what they were getting out of the ground wasn't enough anymore. They needed more. Somehow, both the arugula and kale developed facile roots. They were certainly strong enough to grab any passing animal, including humans, and drag them beneath the loose soil and feed on at their leisure. It was no surprise when several horrified people in a local park caught them on film, on the move to their next feeding grounds.
After that, the extermination program began. The plants were attacked with extreme menace whenever they were found. New plantings of arugula and kale were banned. It was a hard fight and we almost lost. Like I said, the arugula is very prolific. The kale isn't far behind.
So I've found some of the plants trying to hide in my garden. I trapped them before they could feed on anything. In my mind, turnabout is fair play and I'll eat as many of them as I can find...and keep them from spreading more seed throughout the county.
That's why I have to stay on top of harvest.
I was looking forward to huge bowls of salad when I first planted them. All those purple and green leaves. Gourmands called them 'spicy,' but most folks I knew just said they were bitter. My plans worked well - bowls and bowls of salads came out of my patch. Arugula, kale, romaine. Sweet lettuces too, to balance the bitterness: oak leaf, grand rapids, black seeded simpson. I had them all.
When the arugula bloomed, I daydreamed about even more salads. Same with the kale. The plants were prolific, putting out thousands of seed and dispersing them before I even realized they were ready. Again, I didn't think much about it. I just thought I'd find plants in strange places for the next few months.
Then the people started disappearing all across northern Sumner County. One or two at first then more. It soon spread to southern Kentucky and beyond. No one knew what to think about it. The people were just...gone.
Someone soon noticed there was arugula growing in every place a person had disappeared. A few plants by a front door. Several hidden beneath the weeds by a hiking trail. Later, people noticed purple kale growing in some of those places as well.
They had gotten smart. They had gotten hungry.
The authorities got curious and dug up some of the plants. It was horrible. Bits of synthetic fibers, rubber soles from shoes and tiny bone fragments were found tangled within the roots. No one knows to this day how they managed to dig the them up without becoming a part of the debris. Especially now that we know how the plants fed themselves.
You see, somehow what they were getting out of the ground wasn't enough anymore. They needed more. Somehow, both the arugula and kale developed facile roots. They were certainly strong enough to grab any passing animal, including humans, and drag them beneath the loose soil and feed on at their leisure. It was no surprise when several horrified people in a local park caught them on film, on the move to their next feeding grounds.
After that, the extermination program began. The plants were attacked with extreme menace whenever they were found. New plantings of arugula and kale were banned. It was a hard fight and we almost lost. Like I said, the arugula is very prolific. The kale isn't far behind.
So I've found some of the plants trying to hide in my garden. I trapped them before they could feed on anything. In my mind, turnabout is fair play and I'll eat as many of them as I can find...and keep them from spreading more seed throughout the county.
That's why I have to stay on top of harvest.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
A small prayer
A while back, I got an idea for a story about a devotee, complete with a prayer woven through it. As the story progresses, we find out exactly what said devotee will do for his gods. Maybe the story will be ready to be born...someday.
Two lines, "Invisible to mortal eyes, let my cry come unto you," I can't claim but I also don't remember the source of them.
Here then, is my small devotional effort:
Prayer
Oh Lord,
Invisible to mortal eyes
Let my cry come unto you.
Take, O Lord,
My hands and
use them as you will.
Take, O Lord,
My mouth and
speak your wisdom.
Take, O Lord,
My heart, My mind
and my will.
Fill my soul, O Lord
Grant me sweet oblivion.
IA! IA!
Hear me,
O Priest of the Elder Ones!
IA! IA!
CTHULHU F'TAHGN!
Wake.
(What? Who'd you think it was going to be for? ;-) )
Two lines, "Invisible to mortal eyes, let my cry come unto you," I can't claim but I also don't remember the source of them.
Here then, is my small devotional effort:
Prayer
Oh Lord,
Invisible to mortal eyes
Let my cry come unto you.
Take, O Lord,
My hands and
use them as you will.
Take, O Lord,
My mouth and
speak your wisdom.
Take, O Lord,
My heart, My mind
and my will.
Fill my soul, O Lord
Grant me sweet oblivion.
IA! IA!
Hear me,
O Priest of the Elder Ones!
IA! IA!
CTHULHU F'TAHGN!
Wake.
(What? Who'd you think it was going to be for? ;-) )
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Storytime
This untitled thing still needs to be tinkered with a bit (oh yeah, I have delusions of grammar all right) but I wanted to post it anyway.
___________________________________________________
That is one ugly saucer, Margaret thought as she picked up the old piece of pottery from the table. As saucers go, it wasn’t even really, well, round. As she turned it over in her hands, she could see it was only about six inches across at the widest part of the rim and about and inch and a half deep. Its plain brown clay surface was slightly pitted in places, except where it fit snugly in her hands. There, the surface was worn smooth from years of handling.
Margaret carried her find to the cash box. She hoped the people were willing to let the thing go for cheap.
“I’ll give you a nickel for this.”
That afternoon, the saucer was in its new place on the floor next to a blue, fish shaped bowl filled with kibble. Buttons, Margaret’s seventeen year old white Persian, didn’t seem to care how ugly the thing was as long as it was full of water.
In the weeks that followed, Buttons began acting like a much younger feline. Her once thick fur filled out again and her gold eyes sparkled. She became death on four paws to the dust bunnies hiding under the sofa. One morning, Margaret even caught her chasing butterflies out in the garden. Buttons had jumped two feet in the air after a particularly huge swallowtail and the dear old thing hadn’t been able to do that in years.
As she watched the acrobatics in the garden, Margaret wondered what had gotten into the old cat. She hadn’t changed Buttons’ food or introduced any new vitamins. Nothing, as far as she could figure, was any different. More than once, she caught herself wishing she could have a little bit of it of whatever it was.
And that is how the Grail, when its last protector died at the age of a hundred and fourteen, came to reside at 1475 Anderson Way.
___________________________________________________
That is one ugly saucer, Margaret thought as she picked up the old piece of pottery from the table. As saucers go, it wasn’t even really, well, round. As she turned it over in her hands, she could see it was only about six inches across at the widest part of the rim and about and inch and a half deep. Its plain brown clay surface was slightly pitted in places, except where it fit snugly in her hands. There, the surface was worn smooth from years of handling.
Margaret carried her find to the cash box. She hoped the people were willing to let the thing go for cheap.
“I’ll give you a nickel for this.”
That afternoon, the saucer was in its new place on the floor next to a blue, fish shaped bowl filled with kibble. Buttons, Margaret’s seventeen year old white Persian, didn’t seem to care how ugly the thing was as long as it was full of water.
In the weeks that followed, Buttons began acting like a much younger feline. Her once thick fur filled out again and her gold eyes sparkled. She became death on four paws to the dust bunnies hiding under the sofa. One morning, Margaret even caught her chasing butterflies out in the garden. Buttons had jumped two feet in the air after a particularly huge swallowtail and the dear old thing hadn’t been able to do that in years.
As she watched the acrobatics in the garden, Margaret wondered what had gotten into the old cat. She hadn’t changed Buttons’ food or introduced any new vitamins. Nothing, as far as she could figure, was any different. More than once, she caught herself wishing she could have a little bit of it of whatever it was.
And that is how the Grail, when its last protector died at the age of a hundred and fourteen, came to reside at 1475 Anderson Way.
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