Flash, Short Story, Very Short Story

It’s Just How Guys Talk

Written for Sammiโ€™s Weekend Writing
Prompt #421
using the word โ€˜limerenceโ€™.
In exactly 91 words, this is my take.

Continue reading “It’s Just How Guys Talk”
Music Blog

April 24, 1981

This week at Glyn Wiltonโ€™s Mixed Music Bag,
heโ€™s asking us to write about a song in which
the title or a line mentions the current month. 
Hereโ€™s my featured April artist and his song.

Continue reading “April 24, 1981”
Short Story

The Letter

Written for Kevinโ€™s No Theme Thursday 10.24.24,
Fandangoโ€™s Story Starter #172 (#FSS), Eugiโ€™s
Moonwashed Weekly Prompt (pretend), and
Gerry C & Sue Wโ€™s Weekly Prompts Wednesday
Challenge
(fascination). This is my story.

Continue reading “The Letter”
Music Blog

Like Father, Like Son

The topic today at Song Lyric Sunday is to write about a song(s) dealing with children and/or families, two themes that clearly go hand-in-hand.

We have a serious tune today, a classic song thatโ€™s a lesson and a warning to parents everywhere. The song sends a powerful message which needs to be heeded before everything slips away and is lost forever. Sounds ominous, doesnโ€™t it?

My featured performer today is Harry Chapin, born in NYC in 1942 and cousin of Mary Chapin Carpenter. Music was always in Harryโ€™s life and his three siblings also became musicians. His wife, Sandy, was a writer and todayโ€™s song is based on a poem which she wrote. At first, Harry wasnโ€™t crazy about the poem but after the birth of his son, he decided to give it another look.

The result was a song of regret, the sad tale of a man who only had time for his work and put everything before the needs of his young son who emulated his dad and eventually grew up to be โ€œjust like himโ€. That song is โ€œCatโ€™s In The Cradleโ€ which was a huge hit for Harry Chapin in 1974, being his only #1 song. It was nominated for a Grammy in 1975 and was inducted into the Grammy Hall Of Fame in 2011.

Music magazine Cash Box called โ€œCatโ€™s In The Cradleโ€ a “lyrical delight, a tender story of a father and his son and a perfect representation of how roles change in the relationship over the yearsโ€. Record World said that the song “deals with the preoccupations plaguing parenthood” and that it โ€œbridges the generation gap by pointing up mutual faultsโ€.

The chorus of the song repeats the phrase “Cat’s in the cradle,” which is a reference to a child’s nursery rhyme about a cat sleeping in a cradle. The phrase serves as a metaphor for the passing of time and the changing relationship between father and son. 

Sadly, on July 16, 1981, Harry Chapin died at the age of 38. He was killed in an accident on the Long Island Expressway when his Volkswagen Rabbit was rear-ended by a tractor trailer truck. He was on his way to perform at a benefit concert when the accident occurred. In addition to being a singer, songwriter and multi-instrumentalist, Harry Chapin was a philanthropist and hunger activist. As a dedicated humanitarian who fought to end world hunger, he was a key participant in the creation of the Presidential Commission on World Hunger in 1977. In 1987 he was posthumously awarded the Congressional Gold Medal for his humanitarian work.

There are many different videos for โ€œCatโ€™s In The Cradleโ€ but this is my favorite. Letโ€™s have a listen to Harry Chapin.

In keeping with the theme today of children and/or dfamilies, here is Harry Chapinโ€™s daughter, Jen, performing his song.

Heavy metal band Ugly Kid Joe also released their own cover; while staying faithful to the original, they chose to remove the apostrophe from the title. Interpreted literally, there is more than one cat in their cradle. This is Ugly Kid Joe with โ€œCats In The Cradleโ€.

Lyrics

My child arrived just the other day
He came to the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch, and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
And he was talking ‘fore I knew it, and as he grew
He’d say “I’m gonna be like you, dad”
“You know I’m gonna be like you”

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon
“When you coming home, dad?” “I don’t know when”
But we’ll get together then
You know we’ll have a good time then

My son turned ten just the other day
He said, thanks for the ball, dad, come on let’s play
Can you teach me to throw, I said-a, not today
I got a lot to do, he said, that’s okay
And he, he walked away, but his smile never dimmed
It said, I’m gonna be like him, yeah
You know I’m gonna be like him

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon
“When you coming home, dad?” “I don’t know when”
But we’ll get together then
You know we’ll have a good time then

Well, he came from college just the other day
So much like a man I just had to say
Son, I’m proud of you, can you sit for a while?
He shook his head, and they said with a smile
What I’d really like, dad, is to borrow the car keys
See you later, can I have them please?

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon
“When you coming home, son?” “I don’t know when”
But we’ll get together then, dad
You know we’ll have a good time then

I’ve long since retired, my son’s moved away
I called him up just the other day
I said, I’d like to see you if you don’t mind
He said, I’d love to, dad, if I can find the time
You see, my new job’s a hassle, and the kids have the flu
But it’s sure nice talking to you, dad
It’s been sure nice talking to you
And as I hung up the phone, it occurred to me
He’d grown up just like me
My boy was just like me

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon
“When you coming home, son?” “I don’t know when”
But we’ll get together then, dad
We’re gonna have a good time then

Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Harry F. Chapin / Sandy Chapin
Cat’s in the Cradle lyrics ยฉ Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc

NARยฉ2024

Thanks to Jim for hosting another week of Song Lyric Sunday.

See you on the flip side. ๐Ÿ˜Ž

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephantโ€™s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NARยฉ2017-present.

Flash

Frosted Flakes

Our lovely host, Rochelle, at Friday Fictioneers
has offered up this photo prompt to inspire us
to write creatively using 100 words or less.
This is my 100-word story from days in Montauk.

ยฉ Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

โ€œSurf rods are the heaviest and longest rods you can get. They’re designed to cast very far distances and pull in heavier fish from breaking waves. Depending on which bait you’re using โ€“ worms, squid, bunker โ€“ youโ€™ll need to choose the right rig.โ€

Bill quietly explained to our pre-school boys, blissfully ignoring the fact that the rods were four times taller than them.

โ€œThis is a science, boys. You have to be patient and psyche out the fish.โ€ The kiddos were gleefully lost in their mini boxes of Frosted Flakes.

Bill was content; this was cherished father/son time. Pivotal first steps.

NARยฉ2024
100 Words

This is โ€œJust Fishingโ€ by Trace Adkins

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephantโ€™s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NARยฉ2017-present.

Longer Stories, Story

Sky Mountain Pines: Part 2

To read Part 1, click ‘Previous Post’ below

ยฉ Misky

When Ekon and Mosi awoke they were not in the same place as the night before. They were in a higher elevation; it was colder and there were traces of snow. They were laying in a rudimentary tent, comfortably covered in blankets with a small fire nearby. Shiga happily munched on a shrub to which she had been tethered. Besides the change of location, there was a much more obvious and puzzling difference in father and son: both had aged approximately five years. Mosi looked to be about 25 years old and Ekon’s hair and beard were now as grey as the mountain sky.

A group of strange-looking men emerged from the woods and started walking in their direction; immediately Ekon patted his chest, feeling for the vial in his wrap, and was relieved to find it where he always kept it; he placed one drop on the tip of his tongue. The leader of the group, who looked like nothing more than a dead tree branch, spoke in a senescent voice, explaining that two of his people, while out hunting, had found Ekon, Mosi and Shiga unconscious near the brook and brought them back to a safe clearing just outside their village. The brook had been poisoned years ago after a mysterious storm and the tainted waters resulted in a deep, years-long sleep for anyone who drank; there was no antidote that they knew of.

These men were the last of the Twigorian order of monks; they were learned men, wise in the ways of the universe, science and nature. They lived among the members of the ancient San tribe as leaders and teachers. The chief monk assured Ekon and Mosi they were in no danger. When Ekon answered in San, the monks were surprised but quickly discerned that Ekon possessed the power of the Jalโ€™mboor. After the men had talked for a while, a few San women approached; they asked Ekon and Mosi to follow them into the village where they would be able to wash, don clean clothes and eat. Mosi immediately caught the eye of a beautiful young woman called Tayla and they exchanged smiles.

Ekon and Mosi listened as the San people explained their ways. They knew how to preserve food in such a way that it could be dried to last a long time and reduced to a compact size for easy transport and storage. They developed a shield of invisibility which allowed them to disappear at the first sign of danger, thus avoiding any conflict, violence or harm to themselves or their land. They were philosophers and great thinkers but lacked basic skills such as tool-making and construction. Their homes were straw huts and tents in a great state of disrepair and their boats were rotting; everything was falling apart.

Mosi and Ekon told the San people of their quest to reach the top of the Sky Mountain Pines. Many had tried but very few succeeded. It was a treacherous journey but the San promised to help if Ekon and Mosi did something in return: teach them to make tools to build homes, boats and proper implements for hunting, fishing and farming. The pair agreed and spent the next two years working with the San people. During that time Mosi and Tayla fell in love and he promised to return to her after they reached the summit.

The San warned Ekon and Mosi about the Sanguine Precipice, the Gralapthian Dragon Den and the bloodthirsty gorillas known as the Ikorana Buhangi. The monks gave Mosi and Ekon a map to help them safely pass the precipice. In addition, the monks presented them with the invisibility shield to evade the monstrous beasts along their way. Their promise and mission now complete, Ekon and his son prepared to leave the San people the following morning.

Shiga was loaded down with new flasks containing safe, clean water, sacks of food, blankets and the invisibility shield. Bidding Tayla farewell, Mosi and Ekon followed the monks until they were safely on the other side of the poisoned brook. At the last minute, Mosi fetched a dozen old water skins and filled them with tainted water. Now they were truly on their own, prepared but anxious. The higher they climbed the colder it became and they blessed the San women for the warm clothing they now wore.

The pair hiked for days, sometimes not uttering a single word. In one terrifying second, their silence was shattered by horrific screeches and savage bellows. They knew they reached the first deadly threat: the Gralapthian Dragons. The sound of enormous flapping wings filled the sky and father and son covered their ears from the deafening noise. Mosi grabbed the invisibility shield just before catching a glimpse of the nightmarish creatures; he quickly covered himself, Ekon and Shiga, gently stroking the terrified mule’s nose to keep her quiet. The Gralapthian hovered over them, sniffing the air with gargantuan nostrils. Mosi gripped the shield tightly to keep it from flying off in the great gush of wind caused by the dragon’s wings.

The Gralapthian angrily flew away only to return moments later, obviously in the hope of catching their prey unawares. Again Mosi almost lost control of the shield. The Gralapthian spewed fire in different directions and spittle like molten lava rained down but Mosi, Ekon and Shiga stayed put undercover and the dragons missed their mark. Disgruntled, the Gralapthian flew off beyond the high pines. Mosi and Ekon remained where they were until they were sure all was safe. When they felt the time was right, they carefully retracted the shield and secured it onto Shigaโ€™s back. The shield had served them well and once again they silently thanked the monks.

At first Ekon kept a journal of the passing days and nights but eventually lost count. They walked for what seemed an eternity and Mosi questioned himself a thousand times over if this was only a fool’s quest. Lost in their thoughts, Ekon and Mosi were surprised when they came to a divide in the path. Unsure which direction to go, they consulted the San map but it was of no help. Not knowing which way to turn, they finally settled on one of the paths; it proved to be the wrong choice.

Rounding a bend they found themselves face to face with the much-feared kings of the mountain โ€“ the Ikorana Buhangi Gorillas. They were hideous beasts, a mutation of a gorilla and a rhinoceros. Ekon froze as the monstrous creatures slowly came closer, snorting loudly, beating their breasts and baring massive teeth. Mosi thought quickly and placed a drop of the Jalโ€™mboor potion on the tip of his tongue.

To the bewilderment of the gorillas Mosi began speaking in fluent Buhangarian: โ€œWe are travelers. We seek no trouble. All we wish is to pass by safely.โ€

The largest of the gorillas growled: โ€œHow is it you can speak to us, human?โ€

โ€œWe are magicians. We can offer you whatever you desire. What is your greatest wish?โ€ Mosi asked, covering his fear.

โ€œTo rip your body to pieces and eat you!โ€ shouted the Ikorana Buhangi.

โ€œBut you can do that any time. Surely there is something you desire above all other thingsโ€ countered Mosi. โ€œI repeat โ€“ what is your greatest wish?โ€

โ€œABSOLUTE POWER!โ€ roared the beasts. “RULERS THE UNIVERSE!”

โ€œIf that is indeed your greatest wish, I can instantly grant it. Itโ€™s as easy as drinking the mystical waters in these skinsโ€ and Mosi tossed the twelve old water skins to the gorillas. They greedily swallowed every last drop the tainted brook water and were poisoned before they hit the ground. The earth under their feet shook from the tremendous weight of the gorillas but Mosi and Ekon were safe.

Elated with their quick thinking and great success over the Ikorana Buhangi, Ekon and Mosi quickened their pace as they moved on. Their relief was short lived, however, when they reached the Sanguine Precipice. Never before had they seen such a narrow path or so steep a cliff. Mosi checked the San map and saw a widening in the path about four feet ahead. Crossing that short but deadly span would mean victory or defeat, life or death. They could not make one false move. Mosi believed he and his father could do it but he wasnโ€™t sure about Shiga. The men decided to lighten Shigaโ€™s load by dividing it among themselves. She stood a better chance without the extra weight. Slow as snails they placed one foot before the other, Mosi leading Shiga and Ekon gently pushing her rear.

Just as they reached the safety of the clearing, Shiga lost her footing and landed full force on top of Ekon who howled in agony. Working quickly, Mosi uprighted Shiga and tied her to a tree, then he returned for Ekon. As soon as he tried to lift his father, Ekon screamed and fainted; Mosi immediately knew his fatherโ€™s back was broken. Mosi gently carried Ekon and laid him in the shade of the Sky Mountain Pines; it was only then that he realized they had made it to the summit. His quest was complete but at what cost?

Slowly, Ekon opened his eyes and whispered โ€œWe made it, my son!โ€ Then quietly he exhaled and died. Mosi cried out in grief and Shiga softly brayed where she stood, still tied to a tree. Mosi buried his father on the summit of the Sky Mountain Pines, laying his trusty spear across the grave. Snow began to lightly fall as Mosi packed his belongings and secured them onto Shigaโ€™s back. Now, knowing the safe route, Mosi and Shiga began their trek back to Tayla and home to the Sangala Valley. They left the summit without looking back.

The End

NARยฉ2024

Music Director Thomas Dausgaard and the Seattle Symphony perform “In the Hall of the Mountain King” from Peer Gynt Suite No. 1 by Edvard Grieg

This portfolio (including text, graphics and videos) is copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephantโ€™s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR ยฉ 2017-present.

Short Story

Such A Crime

Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge
has challenged us once again
to write a Six Sentence Story
and to include the word “stock”.
This is my response.

Monday after school, me and my friends were in our usual hang out โ€ฆ. Caroni Brothers Grocery Store โ€ฆ. where we go for snacks, gum, you know โ€“ typical things 10 year old boys like โ€“ and, as usual, my mouth was watering for my favorite candy in the whole wide world, Tootsie Rolls, BUT I forgot my allowance and my friends didnโ€™t have any extra money to loan me so I just walked around the store feeling glum when all the while those chocolatey Tootsie Rolls kept calling my name; before I could even think about what I was doing, I reached into the display box on the shelf, snatched a handful of Tootsies and bolted out the side door, but instead of running as fast and as far away from the store as I could, I tossed my candy into my backpack and sat on the ground leaning against the wall, relieved that I got away with it, when suddenly Mr. Caroni appeared outta nowhere, looming over me like a gorilla, and he reached into my backpack for my stash of Tootsie Rolls, shook his beefy fist and snarled something about cleaning him out lock, stock and barrel and to โ€œget outta here, you mangy little thief, and never come back!โ€ย ย 

That night I prayed Caroniโ€™s would burn down โ€“ no such luck, by the way โ€“ and every day that week I gazed at the store with longing as my school bus passed by with one sickening thought haunting me: this coming Sunday morning, when me and my Dad are gonna take our weekly walk to Caroniโ€™s for a loaf of Italian bread, a box of macaroni, a half-dozen cannoli and the newspaper; there’s no way I’m gonna be able to walk into that store and I’m thinking maybe I should just run away from home right now and never look back, but that would break my Mom’s heart.ย 

Sunday arrived and Dad called out for me to โ€œget a move on!โ€, all the while Iโ€™m making up excuses why I canโ€™t go but he ainโ€™t buying any of them; thatโ€™s it โ€“ dead man walking โ€“ and I dilly-dallied the whole way to the store, watching caterpillars, kicking pebbles, stopping to tie my shoelaces .โ€ฆ again โ€ฆ. until my Dad couldnโ€™t take it anymore and shouted โ€œCโ€™mon, kiddo; what is this .โ€ฆ a funeral?โ€ย and Iโ€™m thinking โ€œyeah, mine!โ€ and before I knew it, I started crying and blubbering like my baby sister.ย 

Squatting down and taking hold of my shoulders, Dad looked me square in the eye and askedย โ€œOk, whatโ€™s going on?โ€ย and sobbing pathetically like a little sissy, I told Dad the whole sordid tale about me, Mr. Caroni and a handful of Tootsie Rolls; he took out his handkerchief, wiped my face, held it to my nose and said โ€œBlow; listen, kiddo โ€ฆ. what you did was wrong and itโ€™s obviously eating you up inside, but I’m afraid itโ€™s not over because you still have to apologize to Mr. Caroni, which won’t be easy, but you have to do it โ€ฆ. and not a word about any of this to your Mom because this is a “guy thing” and it stays between us guys.โ€ย 

We walked into the store, picked out our usual items and brought them up to the counter where my day wasted no time mincing words and saidย โ€œMr. Caroni, my son has something to sayโ€;ย shaking in my shoes, I managed to look up at Mr. Caroni’s face and squeaked outย โ€œIโ€™m sorry for taking those Tootsie Rolls, sir, and Iโ€™ll never steal anything from you ever againโ€ and I extended my hand; an eternity seemed to go by but, to my shock and relief, Mr. Caroni took my little hand in his large meaty one, gave me one solid shake and nodded in agreement.ย 

โ€œAnything else?โ€ย Mr. Caroni asked, to which my dad replied โ€œJust theseโ€ as he tossed a handful of my beloved Tootsie Rolls onto the counter; I’m sure glad my secret’s safe with Dad ’cause the last thing I wanna do is break my Mom’s heart.

NARยฉ2024

From 1971, this is Cat Stevens with โ€œFather and Sonโ€

This portfolio (including text, graphics and videos) is copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephantโ€™s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR ยฉ 2017-present.

Uncategorized

SILK SAILS

ยฉAyr/Gray

He sat on the low stool in the barn, hands flying like quicksilver as he milked the cow. His one stiff leg was stretched out before him. 

I peeked around the barn door. He sensed my presence. โ€œWhat is it, boy?โ€ 

โ€œCan we go down to the bay to watch for boats?โ€ 

Without looking up my father spoke:

โ€œIโ€™ve left that life behind me, along with my leg. Go help your mother with breakfast.โ€ 

I watched him silently as I wiped my sniffly nose on my sleeve. He swiveled on the stool as fast as his wooden leg would allow. Raising his eye patch he growled menacingly.

โ€œARGH! Dammit boy! Donโ€™t be making me angry or youโ€™ll be walking the plank to yer watery grave!โ€ 

I jumped back, giggling. I couldnโ€™t help myself.

โ€œCan we go down to the bay tomorrow?โ€

He sighed in exasperation. โ€œWeโ€™ll see; Iโ€™ve chores to finish first.โ€

โ€œBut tomorrow is Sunday and the boats will be coming in.โ€ I dared to suggest.

My father became quiet. He rubbed his leg where the wood met his stump. I knew he was thinking back to that dreadful day when his boat was attacked by the marauders aboard the Crooked Star and he was left for dead. He washed ashore where my grandfather found him and carried him home for my mother to nurse.

โ€œSundayโ€™s a good day to go pirate hunting, boy!โ€

And he thought again of the Crooked Star.

NAR ยฉ 2023