Sunday 160 - Don't Shoot!

The derringer fit perfectly

in her tiny hand.

She gripped it with a fury

as her temper seethed.

She ran screaming

and fired at her drunken rogue of a husband.
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For the original Sunday 160 post click here.
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A story told to me by my mother of a confrontation between her five foot tall mother and six foot five father. My grandfather was an enormous, carousing drunk of a man who worked the oil fields of Borger, Texas in the early 1930's. He came stumbling home to the family's one room shanty a bit too late and a bit too drunk one night, angering my grandmother. She was in her early twenties and took off after my grandfather screaming and firing the two shots she had in her little derringer. Fortunately for my grandfather the little gun only had enough fire power to shoot a few sputtering yards. I am so glad my mother saw humor in life and didn't hide skeletons in the closet to be forgotten by the ticking clock of time.

A New Life Part II - in 55

The cold bed of the truck

gave way to the early warmth of a Spring day.

The family bumped and bruised

out of the freezing mountain air

and dropped down

a long road next to the widest,

most beautiful river

she had ever seen.

Although it seemed near its end,

her journey was just beginning.
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This is a Flash Fiction Friday 55.
If you want to know what the hell that means visit g-man.
The challenge is on.
____________________________

Or if you want yet another challenge write a Sunday 160.
Like a text message, the Sunday 160 only uses 160 characters (including spaces)
Keep on schedule - post Sunday
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____________________________

This is part two in a series about my mother's travels by truck from Wyoming to Oregon. It is set in the early 1940's as her family seeks escape from the depression to find work in the Pacific Northwest.

What the Hell Wednesday - I saw it first!

Times are tough right now and everyone wants a bargain. According to this excerpt from the Modesto Bee, some are downright ornery about getting what they want. Check out the gentlemanly interaction of these two bargain hunters.

Yard sale shopper clobbers another
with a cornbread pan in Sonora

Yard sale etiquette apparently went out the window Friday in Sonora after a 70-year-old man hit another man over the head with a cornbread pan while the two were trying to get access to the sale items.

Jon Joslin, 70, was arrested and charged with assault with a deadly weapon. The victim, Joseph Brown, 64, suffered a head laceration but refused medical treatment at the scene, according to Sgt. Jeff Wilson, spokesman for the Tuolumne County Sheriff’s Department.

According to Wilson, Joslin arrived early at the yard sale and was told he would not be allowed to buy anything until 8 a.m. because that was the advertised start time.

Brown arrived a little later, at 7:45 a.m., and apparently the two talked about how other yard sales operated differently, Wilson said.

At about 8 a.m., the two walked up a long driveway to the sale, with Brown walking ahead of Joslin.

Wilson said Joslin didn’t like this, and tried tripping Brown. Not knowing what was going on, Brown continued, and Joslin tried tripping Brown again, Wilson said.

Now aware of what was happening, Brown told Joslin to stop and an argument ensued. Brown pushed Joslin, and Joslin — who had the five-pound, cast-iron pan in his hand — hit Brown over the head with it, Wilson said.

Deputies arrived, and took Joslin into custody, Wilson said.

First of all, I love this writer and would love to give him or her full credit, but there was no byline. So, Thank you, whoever you are at the Modesto Bee for your wonderfully written article. I could tell you were biting your tongue and laughing as you wrote this. ("yard sale etiquette apparently went out the window" I love that line - very deadpan - pardon the pun.)

I just pictured these two yahoos hobbling up a long rutted, gravel drive to tables full of crap that no one really wants, but these two had to get. One guy kicking away at the feet of the fellow in front of him in order to get first take.....of what??? If you have been to a garage or yard sale you know what I mean. What is there to fight over? The cast iron cornbread pan? Happy Meal toys? A broken chair? A VCR?

But what really gets me is, Jon and Joe are all buddy-buddy when it comes to bitching about the people in charge of the yard sale for being strict on the start time. Then when the clock strikes eight it's every man for himself. These idiots are those annoying people who start knocking on your door an hour before the sale so they can have first go at anything of "value". If you've had a yard or garage sale, you know the type - parked out in front of you home, peering out of their car, drinking steaming cups of coffee, glancing anxiously at their watches and looking for the first sign of movement in your house.

Personally, I think they both got what the deserved. But I am quite sure when the pan hit Joe Brown's head he immediately thought to himself "What the Hell?"

Signs of Fall - One Shot

In a sea of green,

the vine maple cried

in streams of yellow and brown,

tarnishing lush surroundings.

Heat curled leaves

while the confusion

of an impending Fall

drained life from its extremities.

As all around the maple

bowed and curtsied breezily

in awe of this soothsayer,

the tree stood shuddering

at thought of another

cold,

hard,

naked

winter.
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Follow this link for more One Shot Wednesday poems.

Sunday 160 - Last to go?

Pushed to live out their lives

under the care of others,

they sat listening to a eulogy

for an old friend.

Gray and hunched,

each pondered,

would I be the last?
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For the original Sunday 160 post click here.
If you wish to take the challenge, here is a quick look at the rules.
The Sunday 160 only uses 160 characters (including spaces).
Keep on schedule - post Sunday.
Let me know you have posted via a comment on my site.
Visit at least one other Sunday 160.
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A new life - 55

Rolled up in an old mattress for warmth
in the back of a 1930's Ford pickup,
three sisters said good-bye to Wyoming.
As they crossed snow covered mountains,
they remembered their dad saying,
“My brother said there’s work in the orchards of Oregon.”
What was an orchard?
Where was Oregon?
What would it look like?
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This is a Flash Fiction Friday 55.
If you want to know what the hell that means visit g-man.
The challenge is on.
____________________________

Or if you want yet another challenge write a Sunday 160.
Like a text message, the Sunday 160 only uses 160 characters (including spaces)
Keep on schedule - post Sunday
Let me know you have posted via a comment on my site
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Back Story - It was right around 1940 when a family of five, one of which was my mother, took off on a journey of self preservation. My grandfather's brother had found work in the orchards of the Hood River Valley. It was the height of the depression and even the Texas oil fields that had kept my grandfather busy for years, no longer offered security. So, he and my grandmother packed up their three girls and drove off on a 800 mile trek from Gillette, Wyoming to the Orchards on the edge of the Columbia River. Mind you, this was no 800 mile ride on super highways. This was a grueling drive in an old clunker of a pick up truck. My mother and one of her sisters rolled up in a mattress in the back of the truck to stave off the cold of the Rocky Mountains in April, then the snow of the Cascade Mountains of Oregon. None of them knowing exactly what to expect at the end of the journey. No home waiting for them. No hotels along the way. This was a hobo family's ride into the unknown. Only faith and hope to keep them on track.

If you like this tease, I will continue the story next week. First as a 55, then a bit more back story. It was a story my Mom shared with me during the last days of her life.

What the Hell Wednesday - I forgot what???

This week a small town outside of Buffalo, NY brings us yet another brilliant criminal activity. These excerpts where taken from a copyrighted Associated Press story. I credit them for their wonderful work in hopes that they don't go all litigious on my poor scrawny tail.

Eden, N.Y. (AP) (See - I give them full credit where credit is deserved) - Police said a robbery suspect had a dust mask around his neck but didn't pull it over his face when he walked into an Eden HSBC bank branch Wednesday afternoon.

The bank's surveillance video shows the man with his dust mask hanging from his neck, walking into the bank and handing a teller a note that police say demanded money.

While handing the note to the teller, the man answers his cell phone, grabs back the note and runs out of the bank.

Police speculate that the call came from the suspect's get-away driver, alerting him that he forgot to pull up his mask.

The suspect was not apprehended and remains at large.

Boy, they really planned this one out didn't they? Just forgot one minor detail. That's all. I just love trying to be a fly on the wall in these situations. Can't you just hear the conversation on that cell phone -

(Cell phone ring tone....probably something like "It's raining men")
Robber: Dude, I'm trying to rob this bank. What the eff do you want?

Get-away Driver: Uh, hey man, you forgot to pull up the mask. I can see your face and everything. Pull it up now and I'm sure they won't recognize you later.

Robber: Dude! Why didn't you tell me when I was getting out of the car?

Get-away Driver: I was too busy taking that last hit....

Don't' get me wrong, no one who has to resort to robbery of any kind to make a living can be accused of being the sharpest knife in the drawer. To not pull up your mask before a robbery is one thing, but answering your cell phone during the robbery??? What a dope. I am still laughing.
It's only a matter of time before these geniuses get caught. They most likely went to a local bar and got into a huge argument in front of other people about who was the most stupid. I'd like to judge that contest.

Can't you just see the police as they reviewed the security tapes. Laughing and saying to each other, "What the Hell?"

Thirsty - One Shot

Blazing sun strikes the green leaves
draining them of life giving moisture.

Trees bow under the weight of the sultry heat,

begging for relief.

Life giving water usually falls from
the swollen gray clouds so missing from the skies.

Are we now in the tropics?

Has our planet begun another life changing turn on it's axis?

Is it just a hot week in a typical summer with unnecessary
worries brought on by a society driven by a media ever on the
watch for more ways to thrill and frighten the masses?

As we hurtle through space on this lively,
spinning ball of mud
is there a plan?

Is there a guiding hand?

Is it all as random as the landing zone of pebbles thrown skyward
and left to plunk in the dust of a rain parched terrain?

There is only one certainty -

It's too hot to think deeply today.

Hand me the hose and a lemonade.
The trees and I are thirsty.

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Birthday Wishes - Sunday 160

Candles burned down
to the base of their wicks
as his wishes tried to include
all he had encountered.
So is his gracious outlook on life.
Happy birthday, Brian.
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This Sunday 160 is dedicated to Brian Miller on his birthday.
Go pay him a visit at Way Station One.
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For the original Sunday 160 post click here.
If you wish to take the challenge, here is a quick look at the rules.
The Sunday 160 only uses 160 characters (including spaces).
Keep on schedule - post Sunday.
Let me know you have posted via a comment on my site.
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A cutting 55

A carefully laid out selection

of steel instruments spread before him.

His eyes were wild with intensity,

his focus sharp.

His victim lay helpless, motionless.

With a blind fervor,

he plunged his knife into the breast.

Cleanly dissecting flesh like some mad scientist.

Never again would he pay such high prices for boneless chicken breasts.
____________________________

This is a Flash Fiction Friday 55.
If you want to know what the hell that means visit g-man.
The challenge is on.
____________________________

Or if you want yet another challenge write a Sunday 160.
Like a text message, the Sunday 160 only uses 160 characters (including spaces)
Keep on schedule - post Sunday
Let me know you have posted via a comment on my site
Visit at least one other Sunday 160