Tag: Love

Haibun, Poem, Prose

Identical Grief: A Haibun

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for dVerse Poetics: Picking Up The Pieces
where today we are sharing grief. This is my haibun.

Bill & Jim working on yet another crossword puzzle together

Tomorrow will be 4 months since my husband’s identical twin brother died suddenly. His wife returned home from a walk and found him on the bedroom floor; she said he was still warm. The news felt like an arrow ripped through our hearts. Jim was dead. How was my sister-in-law ever again going to walk into her bedroom without picturing her husband’s body? How was my husband Bill going to face the rest of his life as the lone twin? At one time there were three brothers; now there is only Bill. This is the most difficult trial for him. My husband lost a piece of himself that day. We are numb, disbelieving, questioning, dazed, numb, numb, so unbelievably numb.

You know how people say that time flies? Not when it comes to Jim; time has stopped for us. Logically we know he’s dead but our hearts cannot accept it. It’s unbelievable, inconceivable for us. It doesn’t feel possible. We function normally every day, do the same old crap, talk and eat and laugh. We watch movies, go shopping, pay bills, gab on the phone, babysit. We live the same lives we lived before Jim died except he’s not here to share them and we cannot wrap our heads around that. It just doesn’t feel like he’s dead. He should be here. It’s not right that he’s not here. It’s like someone has played the cruelest joke on us.

Now, when my sister-in-law looks at Bill, it’s Jim’s face she sees. And sometimes when I look at my husband, I see Jim and I find myself pondering why Jim was the twin who was taken.

I am Bill’s wife but Jim was his other half.

save them in your heart
golden summer memories
for when winter comes

City Island, Bronx NY circa 1950
No idea who’s who!


NAR©2024

Poetics: Picking up the Pieces

This is “Comfortably Numb” by Pink Floyd

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Wordle

Wordle: Shadow Man

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Sunday Whirl Wordle 665
where we are to turn the word salad shown below
into a story or poem. Here is my story.

tangle surface call back deep room kisses edge sense sketches silhouette windswept

SHADOW MAN

It was a sense rather than actually seeing … his unmistakable silhouette inching closer to the back of my room. I used to have dreams where I would find myself stuck in a deep well and I would call out to anyone up on the surface for help. He would run to the well and drop a rope over the edge. I would climb up, elated to be rescued! My windswept hair was in a tangle and I reached out to pull him closer, to have him take me into his arms and trail warm kisses down my neck … but he was only a shadow and not a real man. I would awaken, saddened by the thought that my dreams would never come true. But tonight, as I recline on my bed tracing sketches of him on the sheet with my finger, I feel his presence in flesh and blood; I am eager to embrace my mysterious shadow man.

NAR©2024

Wordle 665

This is “Golden Years” by David Bowie

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Music Blog

Driving All Night

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Today at Song Lyric Sunday the theme is to choose a song beginning
with the same letter as my last name, which is R. Here is my feature.

Before you could send a text or call someone in their car, there was no way to communicate with a driver unless you had a certain telepathic love that could convey from a distance your desire to be with that person, something you might call – oh, I don’t know – maybe something like radar love.

In the song “Radar Love”, the MC has been driving all night but keeps pushing the pedal because he just knows that his baby wants him home. In his rush to be with her, he drives recklessly and dies in a car accident. Tragic, isn’t it? But perhaps all is not lost, as the song suggests …. the MC and his lover continue to have a radar love connection in the afterlife.

“Radar Love” was written in 1973 by the Dutch group, Golden Earring. Members at the time were lead vocalist Barry Hay, bass and keyboardist Rinus Gerritsen, Cesar Zuiderwijk on drums & percussion and George Kooymans, vocals and lead guitar. The single version reached #9 on the Record World chart, #10 on Cash Box and #13 on Billboard in the US. It hit the Top 10 in many countries, including the UK, Canada, Australia, Canada, Germany, and Spain.

Like other famous songs of the era such as “Bohemian Rhapsody” and “Stairway To Heaven”, “Radar Love” was composed as a suite with several distinctive and quite different sections. According to radar-love.net, the song has been covered more than 500 times.

This is “Radar Love” by Golden Earring

LYRICS

I’ve been drivin’ all night, my hand’s wet on the wheel

There’s a voice in my head that drives my heel

It’s my baby callin’, says I need you here

And it’s a half past four and I’m shiftin’ gear

When she is lonely and the longing gets too much

She sends a cable comin’ in from above

Don’t need no phone at all

We’ve got a thing that’s called radar love

We’ve got a wave in the air, radar love

The radio is playing some forgotten song

Brenda Lee’s “Coming On Strong”

The road has got me hypnotized

And I’m speedin’ into a new sunrise

When I get lonely and I’m sure I’ve had enough

She sends her comfort comin’ in from above

We don’t need no letter at all

We’ve got a thing that’s called radar love

We’ve got a light in the sky, radar love

No more speed, I’m almost there

Gotta keep cool now, gotta take care

Last car to pass, here I go

And the line of cars drove down real slow

And the radio played that forgotten song

Brenda Lee’s “Coming On Strong”

And the newsman sang his same song

Oh one more radar lover gone

When I get lonely and I’m sure I’ve had enough

She sends her comfort comin’ in from above

We don’t need no letter at all

We’ve got a thing that’s called radar love

We’ve got a light in the sky

We’ve got a thing that’s called radar love

We’ve got a thing that’s called radar love

Writers: Barry Hay, George Kooymans
Publishers: Lyrics©Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

Common to All Members of a Family

Big thanks to Jim Adams for hosting another great Song Lyric Sunday this week. Be sure to check out Jim’s site.

Thanks for stopping by. See you on the flip side. 😎

NAR©2024

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Dectina Refrain

My Baby’s Baby: A Dectina Refrain

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶
My granddaughter Mckenna ©NAR

It’s
really
amazing
how time flies by.
People say ‘don’t blink’;
where did fifteen years go?
She is my baby’s baby,
his first child and my first grandchild;
our world changed the instant she was born.                               
It’s really amazing how time flies by.

This is my beautiful granddaughter Mckenna; she’s funny and fun to be with. At one time she wanted to be a writer; now she’s hoping to become a professional musician in an orchestra. Her instrument of choice is the baritone sax … a powerhouse! She just finished her freshman year of high school and was accepted into the National Honor Society. She’s been a member of her school’s swim team for the last couple of years and today she will start her first job as a lifeguard for her town’s public pool. She really wanted that job and is psyched she passed the test. So are we! Congratulations, Mckenna! We’re so proud of you!

Me and Mckenna, 15 years ago ©NAR

NAR©2024

This is “Don’t Blink” by Kenny Chesney

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Short Story

A Daughter’s Memory

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶
My Dad, Vito Schembre, circa 1940 © NAR

The idea of Father’s Day was first conceived by Sonora Smart Dodd, a loving daughter from Spokane, Washington. It was also inspired by Mother’s Day as Dodd wanted a day to honor her father as well.  William Jackson Smart was a Civil War veteran and single-handedly raised Sonora and her siblings after the death of their mother. 

My dad was a Sicilian immigrant who came to the US by boat in 1930 at the age of 15. He arrived with his father and two brothers … one older and the other younger. His mother and sister remained in Sicily for another few years; according to my grandfather, “America is no place for a woman”.

None of them spoke a word of English.

My father was an apprentice shoemaker in Sicily who took up barbering after getting settled in Brooklyn, NY. His good looks and charm endeared him to many people and he was liked by everyone.

It was my dad’s boss at the barbershop who gave him a brilliant piece of advice. As was his habit, my father bought the Italian newspaper every day to read during his down time at work. One day the boss said to him in Italian “Hey, Vito! If you ever hope to speak English, do yourself a favor and start buying the New York Times every day and read it from front to back.” My father realized the importance of that advice and started buying the NY Times the very next day. With the added help of his English-speaking customers, he became fluent in English and lost his accent with no formal schooling. One of the proudest moments in his life was completing the NY Times crossword puzzle … in ink!

Dad became a US citizen and eventually landed a job with the post office. He was a US Army veteran who drove a jeep throughout Europe during WWII without ever having earned a driver’s license. He never did get his license and never drove again after his stint in the army.

My father loved music, especially opera, and I was exposed to classical music and opera at a very early age. The basics in life were Dad’s tenets … family, God, country, his job, providing a roof over our heads, food on the table and a good education. He was also the fun-loving one, with Mom always busy “cleaning up his messes”.

Dad loved people and entertaining in our home. He would often invite people for dinner without clearing it with Mom first. No wonder she was always pissed off! Dad was often in trouble for that and I found that devilish quality one of his most endearing traits. He truly meant no harm. He was a good and decent man who loved and was loved in return. And in the end can any of us want more than that?

Happy Father’s Day to all my guys on WordPress. I hope your day is as special as you are.

NAR©2024

This is “O mio babbino caro” (“Oh my dear daddy”) performed by Renée Fleming

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Uncategorized

On The Rocks – Part 3: In The Beginning

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for The Unicorn Challenge where we are
encouraged to write a story in 250 words or less
using this photo as our inspiration. Here is my story.

© Ayr/Gray

Handsome Nigel Forsythe taught history at the university where Camilla Saunders was the librarian. His penchant for crime novels brought him to Camilla’s desk every week. She was a mousy thing with dull hair and thin lips but splendid breasts for which Nigel had a hankering.

When he asked her out for coffee, she accepted. Getting to know one another was excruciating but Nigel persevered, no doubt spurred on by the thought of getting into Camilla’s blouse.

On their fourth coffee date, Nigel suggested they do “something different”; Camilla was apprehensive but went along. They drove to a secluded park with meandering pathways and steps that seemingly led to nowhere.

“Aren’t the flowers lovely, Camilla?” Nigel asked and was rewarded with a thunderous sneeze.

“Allergies” Camilla complained.

“Watch the ivy, Camilla. We wouldn’t want you getting your heels caught up in it.”

“Nigel, this looks like poison ivy. I’m allergic and don’t have my EpiPen! Why did you insist on bringing me to this horrible jungle?”

“It’s hardly a jungle, Camilla, and the view from the top is to die for.”

With each step Camilla’s breathing became more labored until she was near collapse.

Camilla turned. Nigel was stunned to see her blouse soaked with sweat and clinging to her heaving breasts. He grabbed her shoulders, planting a hungry kiss on her cadaverous lips.

Camilla broke away, slapped Nigel and ran down the steps to the car. They drove back to the university in stony silence.

Nigel was not deterred.

Here is Part 1 & Part 2

NAR©2024
250 Words

The Unicorn Challenge-14/06/24

This is “Love Bites” by Def Leppard with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Dectina Refrain, Haiku

Come Softly: Dectina Refrain & Haiku

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Jim’s Thursday Inspiration #231 –
“Come Softly To Me”. Here is my piece,
a Dectina Refrain followed by a haiku.

Do
You hear
Me tapping
On your window
Come softly darling
Sit right here beside me
Kiss my trembling fingertips
Take me in your arms and hold me
Tell me you will never let me go
Do you hear me tapping on your window

A petal soft kiss
Fluttering cherry blossoms
Love’s gentle breezes

NAR©2024

The Dectina Refrain is written as follows:
1st line is 1 syllable,
2nd line is 2 syllables,
3rd line is 3 syllables, and so on for 9 lines;
the 10th line is comprised of the first four lines
and written as one stand-alone line.

Thursday Inspiration #231 Come Softly to Me

This is “Come Softly To Me”  by the Fleetwoods

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Flash

Love Happens

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Weekend Writing Prompt #367 using the required
word “party” in exactly 88 words; Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge,
with the required word “peak” and Weekly Prompts Wednesday
Challenge using the required word “sunset“. Here’s my flash.

Yesterday was our anniversary, wed 52 years. No party necessary.

None of our friends who married around the same time are still together. How sad is that?

People have asked “What’s the secret to a long and happy marriage?” For us it’s pretty simple: respect, communication, honesty, having a sense of humor.

When you combine those ingredients, love happens. You can manage the lows and celebrate the peaks, watch the dawns and the sunsets, walk hand-in-hand through the ordinary and make it extraordinary.

That’s us. Uncomplicated. Happy together.

NAR©2024
88 Words

Weekend Writing Prompt #367 – Party
Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge – Peak
Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – Sunset

This is “Happy Together” by the Turtles.

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Short Story

The Root Of The Problem

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Stream of Consciousness Saturday where we are asked
to start our piece with a question. Bonus points have been hinted at
if we also end our piece with a question. Here is my questionable
stream based on a conversation I had with my husband.

“What would you say if I decided to let my hair go natural? You know, go grey?”

“I’d have to ask why you would want to do that. You always take great pride in looking younger than you are. Wouldn’t grey hair make you look older?”

“Well, I’m not sure we can toss a blanket over all women with grey hair and say they look older. There are other factors that come into play. I’ve always had great skin. Won’t I still have great skin if I go grey? How can I just arbitrarily assume I will look older?”

“Ok, I’ll give you that much. You can’t assume you will definitely look older. You’ve told me how much you like the color of your hair. I’m surprised you’re suddenly considering changing it. Where is this coming from?”

“Honestly, I’ve been thinking about it for a while. It would be so much easier not having to color my hair and get highlights every couple of months. Besides, when we were at your sister’s house the other day, I was the only woman who still colors her hair.”

“And you were the best looking one at the table!”

“You have to say that; I’m your wife! Your sister’s grey hair looks gorgeous. I know women who’d kill to have her color.”

“But there’s no guarantee you’ll end up with the same color, is there?”

“Well, no …. I suppose not. But my colorist is so talented, I just know she’d do a great job transitioning my hair.”

“Now I’m confused. If you want to stop coloring your hair, what does your colorist have to do with any of this?”

“My colorist will add some grey to my hair …. like getting highlights only they’d be grey instead of blonde. She’d gradually add more until my hair is completely grey, then I can naturally let my grey roots grow out.”

“Seem’s like an awful lot of work to me. Why not just stop coloring your hair and let nature take it’s course?”

“That’s a terrible idea! It’ll take forever and look awful growing out!”

“Well, if you’re convinced this is what you want, I’m not going to stop you.”

“I’m not at all convinced this is what I want; that’s why I asked you in the first place.”

“Ok, then my answer to your question is ‘Don’t go gray. I love your hair color the way it is.”

“Well, I’ll have to give that more thought. What do you think about me cutting my hair?”

“Seriously?”

NAR©2024
#SoCS

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS June 8, 2024

This is “The Girl I Love She Got Long Black Wavy Hair” by Led Zeppelin

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Short Story

The Apartment: The Continuing Story of Harvey and Fiona

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for The Unicorn Challenge where we are encouraged
to get creative in 250 words or less using the photo prompt
as inspiration. This is my 2nd story of Harvey and Fiona.
For another look at the 1st installment, click here.

© Ayr/Gray

Harvey and Fiona were as different as a gorilla and a swan but they had an undeniable chemistry and started falling in love. No one was more surprised than Fiona .… except her parents.

There was a major obstacle her parents couldn’t overlook – Harvey was Jewish. Fiona’s very Irish-Catholic father hated Harvey, calling him ‘Christ killer’ and ‘kike’.  Her mother was crushed. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Can’t you see he’s no good for you? I don’t trust him, Fina girl!” she warned, crying into her apron. Fiona would not be dissuaded; with a heavy heart she closed the door of her childhood home behind her and never looked back.

Harvey and Fiona were married in city hall, the judge and his clerk their only guests and witnesses. After a weekend honeymoon in Niagara Falls, the couple settled into Harvey’s tiny apartment – a walk-up on the fifth floor with a depressing view of factories and government buildings.

Harvey worked the graveyard shift as a printer at the local newspaper, seven days a week from midnight till 8:00 AM. His fingernails were perpetually stained with black ink. The first morning he came home from work and saw the newly decorated apartment, he yelled furiously at Fiona for spending his money on unnecessary things. Uncaring, he left ink stains on the new bedspread when he sat down to remove his shoes.

Fiona cried silently in the kitchen. Harvey sidled up behind her, kissed a spot below her ear and she leaned into him.

NAR©2024
250 Words

The Unicorn Challenge-07/06/24

This is “Love With The Proper Stranger” by Jack Jones

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Short Story

Forever Home

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Sadje is asking us What Do You See – #241
Here is my response.

© Colin Maynard @ Unsplash

It’s 8AM at the humane society and all the residents are enjoying their freshly cleaned digs, and that means nice crisp newspapers lining the floor, just in case. Accidents happen, you know!

Today they’re in for a special treat; the papers are opened to the birth announcements page!

All the pups are besotted by the photo of a beautiful baby with big blue eyes. Sure looks like a playful and happy little tyke! They stare longingly at the baby’s photo, wistfully talking among themselves about the greatest thing that could happen to them, the one thing that would change their lonely doggie lives …. to be adopted and to find themselves in a new forever home with a special friend to play with and grow up with …. just like this little guy.

“It sure would be swell, wouldn’t it?” they ask each other, visions of blankets, chew toys and bouncy rubber balls swirling in their heads. “Maybe today will be our lucky day!”

At 9AM the humane society opens its doors to the public and a few families start streaming in. Most of the parents are being tugged by eager kids hoping to find a best friend to share their home and their lives. Everyone is optimistic and excited.

Today is a big day …. maybe it will be their lucky day!

NAR©2024
#WDYS

What do you see # 241- 3rd June, 2024

Shelter dogs react to being adopted. Don’t shop …. adopt!

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Short Story

Getting Kookie On The Beach

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Six Sentence Story where Denise
encourages us to get creative in just six sentences
incorporating the word “engagement”. Here’s my six.

The idea of my parents chaperoning me to the beach that night was mortifying but I figured I had to suck it up if there was a ghost of a chance of having any fun during this vacation in Surf City, so that night my mother, father and I went for a stroll on the beach, me hanging back about ten feet or so hoping the cool bonfire kids would think I was by myself; music was playing and marshmallows were roasting on long sticks …. everyone was tan and blonde and beautiful …. and that’s when I saw him …. he looked just like Edd ‘Kookie’ Byrnes from ’77 Sunset Strip’  and when he glanced up as we walked by and smiled, I fell hopelessly in love. 

Thankfully, my parents quietly observed the group without their usual compulsion to make conversation and, satisfied what they saw wasn’t a remake of “Reefer Madness”, sat for a while high on a dune delighting in the reflection of the moon on the water; when it was time to go, the three of us walked back to the beach house …. but not before I had a chance to look over my shoulder and give Edd a little wave; he grinned and waved back (I was in heaven) and I knew I had to go to the next bonfire – alone. 

I guess being out in the sun all day must have fried my parent’s brains because, when I nonchalantly asked them the next night if I could walk down to the bonfire by myself for a little while, they actually agreed; all I could think about was seeing Edd again and how relieved I felt that my older sister considered herself “too mature for a teeny-bopper beach party” and didn’t want to tag along.

The group was friendly and waved me over so, as casually as possible, I headed straight for Edd and sat down next to him and someone handed me a cold beer …. my first ever .… which I liked quite a bit; the kids were into Jan and Dean and The Beach Boys …. I was a Beatles girl but I wasn’t going to let that get in the way …. and by the end of the night, Edd and I were holding hands and agreed to meet again the following night. 

That was the most blissful week of my young life …. lots of kissing and petting …. professions of love …. an “engagement ring” fashioned from a Bud Lite pull tab …. but we didn’t go beyond 2nd base; in all my 16 years, I’d never been as happy or excited to be with someone as I was with Edd.

At the end of the week we exchanged phone numbers and promised to call each other but that didn’t happened and it’s ok …. I never really thought it would …. I’m content with the memory; one thing I’m sure of is none of my friends will ever be able to say they spent a week making out on the beach with Edd ‘Kookie’ Byrnes.

NAR©2024

Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt!


This is a really awful song called “Like, I Love You” by Edd ‘Kookie’ Byrnes and Joanie Sommers.

Here’s the theme song for the TV show,  “77 Sunset Strip”.

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Short Story

Perfect Day For Planting

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Six Sentence Story where we are asked
to be creative in no more than six sentences
using the word “light”. This is my story.

Colette, typically looking away the second I snap a photo! Eyeroll!

We got a late start with spring cleaning in our yard, especially along the side of the house where our attached garage is located; even though the gardeners had cleared a lot of old shrubbery away for some new plants and bushes, it was just not meant to be after we were derailed by the sudden death of my husband’s twin brother on April 2 and me being sidelined since the first week of May by a major sinus infection (the heavy-duty antibiotics have left me “out of commission” and able to eat only extremely light meals or, at times, nothing at all).

In mid-May, we put in a couple of small white azaleas, relocated a baby rhododendron which wasn’t doing well in the far back corner of the yard and planted a bit of Blue Bugle and Lilies of the Valley for light ground cover (along the side of the house, not visible in this pic), but that’s as far as our broken spirits and depleted bodies would allow us go.

When Colette is here with us (Tuesdays, Thursdays and the occasional Saturday or Sunday) and the weather is good, she wants to be outside; hell, even if the weather isn’t good, she wants to be outside – a phenomenon about most children that escapes me as they (well, she definitely) seem to be impervious to heat or cold or rain or snow or wind – all the elements, times when Bill and I would prefer being inside nestled in our recliners with a lightweight blanket.

Speaking of nestled, we discovered that sparrows had made their nest in an old watering can in the corner of Colette’s playhouse; the mama and papa birds are very resourceful, building the new home in a location almost invisible to us, one which I discovered quite by accident when I heard a faint chirping noise coming from the playhouse and …. with my trusty flashlight in hand …. I went to take a peek but was immediately dive-bombed by a wildly protective kamikaze sparrow which, when it sped just inches by my head, had me believing it was a small bat …. terrifying!

Tuesday the temps soared to a scorching 86ºF – a leap from the mild low-70s of just the day before – so it was, according to Colette, the “perfect day for planting!” …. a concept I did not agree with thinking it was too hot and we would be in direct blazing sunlight for the entire time …. but I did not object (mainly because the child could not be dissuaded and it was far less taxing than yet another round of the Disney edition of Monopoly); armed with our faithful spades, Bill with his macho shovel and pitchfork, we planted another azalea along the side of the house, then Colette and I pulled all the weeds and detritus from the two ancient cement planters on either side of the bench you see in the above photo, replacing all of what was growing in them as haphazardly as Albert Einstein’s hair with two bright pink kalanchoe plants, then stood back to proudly bask in the glory of our gardening prowess.

Of course, manual labor such as that demands a reward and certainly not a monetary one which would be looked upon with disdain and confusion by a 4-year-old whose idea of recompense consists solely of instant gratification in the form of ice cream – the I-don’t-give-a-hoot-how-messy-I-get kind – and after getting Colette situated in her pink fairy chair, pinning up her waist-length hair and snapping on the 15-year-old bib we originally used for our first grandchild, Mckenna, I disappeared into the kitchen and returned with fudge-covered vanilla ice cream pops for Colette and Bill and a lemon ice for me; judging by the look on her face and the twinkling, totally satisfied light in her eyes (photo below), Colette was over the moon with her sweet, sloppy treat and …. you know …. she was right after all about it being the “perfect day for planting!”

What being a kid is all about!

NAR©2024

It’s Thursday’s Six Sentence Story Link Up!

This is “Let It Grow” by Eric Clapton

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Haibun

Moonspell: A Haibun

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge #513,
Weekly Prompts Colour Challenge (orange), Moonwashed Weekly
Prompt (hazy moon) & Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge (regret)

Image Credit Sarah Whiley

I was lost, a bit frightened and filled with regret for not making a note of the address. A hazy moon began to make her appearance in the evening sky, leaving the tiny Palermo street awash in a warm orange glow. Squinting in the darkness, I saw what appeared to be a tunnel at the end of the street; there was no way I was going to walk into the black unknown. Slowly I inched closer and discovered the tunnel was actually a stairway. Just as I quickened my pace, an arm shot out of a hidden doorway and pulled me inside, pinning me against a wall. A deep voice I knew intimately whispered in honeyed Sicilian tones “Picchì ci haiu misu tantu tempu, amuri miu? Ti vogghiu beni!”º Passionate kisses drifted down my neck. Breathless, I murmured “I’m here now, my love. Show me.”

Kiss me now, my love,
In the warm glow of the moon
You possess my heart

NAR©2024

º“What took you so long, my love? I am burning for you.”

Photo Challenge #513
Weekly Prompts Colour Challenge – Orange
Moonwashed Weekly Prompt – Hazy moon
Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – Regret

This is the Flamingos with “I Only Have Eyes For You”

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Poem

Lovesick: A Six Sentence Ovi

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Three Things Challenge #M681
and Six Sentence Story using the words
level, shudder, shake and quiver

Come on baby, for goodness sake
Give me some of that shimmy shake
With lips as sweet as birthday cake
I got it bad and it’s so good.

Listen now, I’m on the level
I’ve been stung by the love devil
What you’ve got is kind of special
It’s something I just can’t explain.

In your arms I melt like butter
You can really make me shudder
Then I stammer and I stutter
Sounds like I’m losing control.

First my body starts to quiver
From my head down to my liver
Then up my spine runs a shiver
What the hell is going on?

Legs and feet are very chilly
Arms and hands go willy nilly
Now I’m feeling downright silly
Maybe I should call the doctor.

I hope I don’t sound shallow
Or come across as callow
But I love a sweet marshmallow
Come here sugar, lets make S’mores.

NAR©2024
#TTC

Three Things Challenge #M681
Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt!

This is Patsy Cline with “Lovesick Blues”

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Short Story

It’s All Going To Be OK

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Six Sentence Story ~ “tonic” and
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Confessionals ~ “sweet”

© dreamtime

It doesn’t happen very often but last Sunday was a rare babysitting day for us; our usual days to watch our 4-year-old granddaughter Colette are Tuesday and Thursday but both our son and daughter-in-law (Colette’s mom & dad) had to work over the weekend. That was a rarity for them as well, but one is a librarian and the other a doctor and with both the library and the hospital open every day of the week, they sometimes pull a weekend shift but seldom do their rotations coincide as they did last Sunday.  

My husband Bill has been having good and bad days this month, thinking about and missing his twin brother who died suddenly on April 2, so our son has been extra considerate, asking if watching Colette at this time is too much of an imposition; we answer without hesitation “Not at all …. in fact, just the opposite!” 

Colette is always fun to be with but recently she has been a true blessing and a much-needed distraction …. a tonic, a balm for our sad and broken hearts, a healing magical concoction of love, joy, sunshine and humor blended with a combination of innocent wisdom and an intuitive nature that defies her tender age. 

We were looking through some old photo albums with Colette …. snapshots of Bill and his brother as babies, as kids growing up on City Island, our wedding photos …. and even though Colette knew Bill’s brother and saw them together many times, seeing those photos left an impression on her, especially the ones of Bill and Jim when they were babies; it’s true, you know, that when our kids and grandkids are little and they look at us, they only see us as we are and have no idea we were ever any younger than we are right now. 

One particularly sweet photo of Bill and Jim brought tears to my husband’s eyes and though he tried to hide his tears, they spilled through his fingers causing Colette to ask why he was so sad and we explained that Uncle Jim was gone, that he had left us to be with God in heaven; she thought for a second, put her little hand on Bill’s and said “Well, that’s ok, Grampy; don’t worry because God will take good care of him and it’s all going to be ok.”

NAR©2024

Sunday Confessionals : Sweet
Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt!

This is Stevie Wonder with “You Are The Sunshine Of My Life”

Bill and Jim, suntanned towheads in Montauk, 1950

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Short Story

The Floor Lamp

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Six Sentence Story
where the prompt word is “present”

When little Summer was just a few days old, her mother Laura started the tradition of sitting with her in the nursery to read stories before bed; in the corner of the nursery was an old floor lamp that used to belong to Laura’s grandparents, Momma and Poppy, and it filled the nursery with a soft, soothing glow.

As a little girl, Laura spent a lot of time with Momma and Poppy and the three of them developed a deep and loving bond so when Momma and Poppy passed away, the one thing Laura asked for was the floor lamp which was in the bedroom of their house where little Laura napped; now, each night Laura would tell baby Summer all about her beloved Momma and Poppy.

This one particular night as Laura and Summer were sitting in the nursery, the glow from the floor lamp caught the baby’s attention and she was captivated by it, something Laura thought was a sweet connection, especially since the lamp originally belonged to Momma and Poppy, Summer’s great-grandparents, but then Laura noticed a pattern developing, a pattern that would repeat two or three times most nights at Summer’s bedtime where the baby would gaze calmly and quietly at the lamp, then slowly begin to coo, gurgle and giggle for a few minutes before becoming animated – smiling, eyes glowing, arms waving, laughing and babbling loudly – then back again to quietness but still very much attracted to and aware of the lamp …. even when the floor lamp was off, Summer was attracted to it.

One afternoon when Summer was around 3 years old, Laura heard her talking and laughing, just like she did when playing with her stuffed animals, and when Laura peeked into Summer’s room expecting to find her little girl on the bed, she was surprised to see her in the big over-stuffed chair where Laura read bedtime stories; the floor lamp was lit and Summer appeared to be having a happy and lively conversation – not with her stuffed animals but with the lamp.

When Laura asked Summer who she was so happily talking to, the little girl was quick to reply “Momma and Poppy, of course; can’t you see them, Mommy?”

Laura caught her breath for a moment but she was not completely shocked for she knew Momma and Poppy’s lamp was special – the very reason Laura wanted it in her own home, but she didn’t realize how special it was; Laura never tried to stop Summer from talking to the lamp for she truly believed the spirits of Momma and Poppy were present and Summer’s conversations with them were real …. and who are we to say they weren’t. 🪽

NAR©2024

Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt!

This is “Guardian Angels” performed by John McLaughlin, Larry Coryell and Paco De Lucia

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Flash

Anticipation: Dectina Refrain

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Quadrille Monday dVerse Poets Pub; De Jackson is
asking us to create a 44-word poem using the word “Friday”.
My poem is a Dectina Refrain:
1st line is 1 syllable, 2nd line is 2 syllables
3rd line is 3 syllables, and so on for 9 lines;
the 10th line is comprised of the first four lines
as one stand-alone sentence.

Our
Friday
night dinner
we wait all week
to sit on the couch
and eat sexy pizza
with cheese like hot melted love,
gooey and deliciously good,
and we drink tall glasses of red wine.
Our Friday night dinner we wait all week

NAR©2024
44 Words
#TGIF

Quadrille #199: T.G.I.F. 

This is “Makin’ Whoopee” by Dr. John and Rickie Lee Jones

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Flash

The Suit

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Weekly Prompts Colour Challenge ~ Black

Bill & Jim © NAR

Bill stood at his open closet mumbling and cursing under his breath as he pulled out one pair of pants after the other. He was in a mood that has no definition or perhaps many definitions, none of them good. He was searching for something to wear for the funeral of his twin brother, Jim, who died suddenly on April 2. Had it been anyone else’s funeral, Bill would have just pulled out a suitable pair of pants and a dress shirt, but this was his brother and he said he needed his black suit. He couldn’t find it in the closet and he was getting angry but, of course, the errant suit was not the cause for his consternation. I walked to the closet and spotted the suit immediately. Handing it to Bill, I hugged him and kissed his cheek. As I ironed his shirt I could hear him crying softly. “Why’d you have to go and die, Jim?”

NAR©2024

Weekly Prompts Colour Challenge – Black

This is Brooks and Dunn with “Believe”

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Flash

Ponte dei Sospiri

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Greetings, friends. Some of you know, others do not. We had a death in the family last week … my husband’s twin brother passed away on Tuesday. I’ve taken some time off from writing but now I’m ready to return. You may read about our loss here if you are so inclined. Thank you for your thoughts. This is my story today.

© Sandra Crook

It wasn’t in the evening when a calm tide rolls out, nor in the early morning as the glorious sun rises but rather in the middle of the day, just after noon when he crossed the bridge and left us stunned and lost. One minute he was with us …. happy, strong and alive. The next he was gone, in an instant, in the blink of an eye, he crossed the bridge and slipped away. We had no time to prepare, no time to say “Goodbye and fare thee well, brother”. He was just gone, peacefully and silently across the bridge.

NAR©2024

5 April 2024

This is “Bridge of Sighs” by Robin Trower

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Poem

I’m Sorry: A Dectina Refrain

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Sadje’s What Do You See #232

Image credit: Josue Escoto @ Unsplash

I’m
sorry
for the things
I said and did.
There’s no greater pain
than brothers grown apart.
How I have prayed for this day
when we put our anger to rest
and cried “I love you, my dear brother”.
I’m sorry for the things I said and did.

NAR©2024
#WDYS

What do you see # 232- April 1, 2024

This is “I’m Sorry” by John Denver

Dectina Refrain:
This poem is written as follows:
1st line – 1 syllable, 2nd line – 2 syllables
3rd line – 3 syllables, and so on for 9 lines;
the 10th line is comprised of the first four lines
and is a stand-alone 10-syllable line.

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Miscellaneous

The Gospel According To George

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶


These are my most sincere wishes for you.
🩶 🕊️

This is George Harrison with “My Sweet Lord”

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Short Story

Tall Ships

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

This is The Unicorn Challenge.
Our objective: to be creative in
250 words or less, prompted by
the photo below. This is my story.

© Ayr/Gray

Battery Park. The glittering lights of tall ships parading up the Hudson River. New York at its brightest. The Big Apple – excitement and energy down to its core.

So how the hell did I end up in Pennsylvania Dutch Country, hopelessly in love with my Amish husband Abel, married for four years with three kids and twins on the way?

Good old revenge. I wouldn’t play ball with my boss so instead of being assigned to photograph the tall ships in New York Harbor, I was banished for a month to cover the “Plain People’s” Summer County Fair.

What I thought was going to be a nightmare was a delicious surprise. When the handsome, lusty Abel Jansen and I locked eyes, it was “Goed gevoel”  – a “good feeling” from head to toe and all parts in between.

Being accepted into the Amish community, let alone marrying, is difficult but we had a few things going for us. I was a city girl, not afraid of getting my hands dirty. We were mature. Most Amish were married before age 20; Abel and I were both 26.

But the clincher was the serendipity attached to my name …. Menno Jakob.

The most revered men among the Amish were Menno Simons and Jakob Ammann. The elders were convinced I was descended from them when I was actually an Italian Jew from Canarsie! Who was I to argue?

Abel was my tall ship and I was his splash of Manhattan sparkle. Nothing else mattered.

NAR©2024
250 Words

The Unicorn Challenge-22/03/24

This is “Sailing” by Christopher Cross

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		Poem
Broken-Down Heart
	


	

							

			 Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶		
		
		

			

De Jackson (AKA WhimsyGizmo) is hosting
Quadrille #197: Look Sharp, Now! (Let’s Write A Poem)
at dVerse Poets Pub. The prompt word is “sharp”
and the word count for our poems is, of course, 44.






















Now baby I know
that
you want me to give
myself
to you 
but the pain I feel
is still so very
sharp





Since he left
me
for her
I’m lonely and blue
all day and night
even you
cannot
jumpstart
my broken-down heart





NAR©2024
44 Words







Quadrille #197: Look Sharp, Now! (Let’s write a poem.) 







This is “The First Cut Is The Deepest” by Cat Stevens


















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		Flash
Frosted Flakes
	


	

							

			 Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶		
		
		

			

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.






© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields











“Surf 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 – worms, squid, bunker – you’ll need to choose the right rig.”





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





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





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





NAR©2024
100 Words







15 March 2024







This is “Just Fishing” by Trace Adkins


















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		Short Story
THE IVY GARDEN
	


	

							

			 Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶		
		
		

			













From our kitchen window I can see my little girl Nell playing with her new best friend Elena. Since moving to Atlanta two months ago, the girls have become inseparable. They are both four years old and about the same height but that’s where the physical  similarities end. 





Nell is a green-eyed lanky Irish redhead covered in a profusion of freckles while Elena is a slightly plump Spanish beauty with brown doe eyes, smooth tanned skin and lustrous black hair. 





As I stand at the kitchen sink I can see the girls frolicking in the yard with Elena’s puppy, Pongo. Their energy is boundless as they dash back and forth from the swings to the trampoline to their bikes. They like to play a funny game where little Pongo is a scary monster chasing them around the yard …. and Pongo is always happy to oblige.





Moving around the kitchen doing my chores, I can hear Elena counting, followed by an excited “ready or not….here I come”, then the hysterical giggles as Nell’s secret (but usual!) hiding place is discovered. 





The yard is fenced in and I’m completely aware of the girls and what they’re doing …. most of the time. Occasionally they’ll wander into a concealed corner of the garden to pick wild flowers for me and Elena’s mom. Even though I can’t see them, I can clearly hear their conspiratorial mumblings as they go from one blossom to the other.  





“Buttercups, Daisies and Lillies of the Valley” whispered Elena.





“And some pretty shiny ivy” added Nell. “Mommy likes shiny things.”  





All was quiet and I presumed the girls would come dashing into the kitchen and present me with a freshly-picked bouquet; instead Pongo bounded in, yipping and yapping like crazy …. an omen that all is not as it should be. To my relief, there’s no sign of anything unusual in the dining room. The front door is locked and my handbag is still resting on the desk where I left it. To my amazement, on the crisp white tablecloth sat a short blue glass vase brimming with Daisies, Buttercups, Lillies of the Valley and ivy. It was breathtaking.





I stood there admiring the green, white and golden cluster when suddenly I heard woeful whimpering and sobbing nearby. Pongo gave a little tug on the end of the tablecloth and there, huddled closely, were Nell and Elena, their little bodies covered in itchy red rashes. Only then did I realize the vine in the vase with flowers was poison ivy! 





“Come with me, my sweet girls. It’s nothing a little calamine lotion won’t fix. Thank you for the  flowers …. the most beautiful I’ve ever seen! Won’t daddy be surprised when he comes home tonight!” I said, smiling and chuckling to myself. 





And tomorrow we will rid the garden of all the pretty shiny ivy. 





NAR©2024







FOWC with Fandango — Frolic









Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – Scary









FOWC with Fandango — Omen









FOWC with Fandango — Bag







This is Spanky and Our Gang with “Lazy Day”


















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		Short Story
Forever Dream
	


	

							

			 Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶		
		
		

			

It’s time once again for The Unicorn Challenge;
this is my 250 word response to the photo below.










© Ayr/Gray










“Tell me again, Tom.”





“It was a glorious day, greener than Killarney in spring. We were out for a stroll, the leaves sparkling with dew. You looked so beautiful, Maggie, you made my heart skip a beat. Bluer eyes than I’d ever seen and hair the aroma of fresh peaches. We stopped and I picked a wildflower. I don’t know how you did it but you twisted the stem and made a ring. That was the day we became ‘engaged’. You said we needed to walk under the branch that stretched out over the path to make it official. I held your hand and we walked to the middle of the little bridge. We stood there and I knew from that moment on we would always be together. That’s where I kissed you for the first time. We were very daring, you being an older woman and all. I was 11 and you were 13 but we knew then we were made for each other.”





“It’s exactly as I remember. Tell me more, Tom. Put your arm around me. I’m so very cold.”





“Do you recollect the day we walked into the woods and discovered that cabin? I called it a ‘dilapidated shack’; you said it was “our dream’. We fixed that place up good, filling it with dreams. We raised our family there and welcomed our grandkids. Now our grands are getting married. Three generations of dreams, Maggie. Maggie? Oh, my sweetest love. Sleep now and dream forever.”





NAR©2024
100 Words












The Unicorn Challenge-12/01/24







This is “A Kiss To Build A Dream On” by Louis Armstrong


















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		Flash
KUKLA HUGS
	


	

							

			 Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶		
		
		

			

Today Sadje is asking us
“What do you see?“
Using her image along with
Eugi’s word prompt “boundless”
and Fandango’s word prompt “back”,
this is my response.






Image credit: Jr Korpa @ Unsplash











I stand at the doorway and watch
as she stretches her legs from her car seat
in the back of her daddy’s car,
grunting with that Little Engine That Could determination
until her fur-trimmed black ankle boots finally reach the curb.
With the boundless spirit of a 3 year old,
she runs up the path to our front door,
stops for a second to wave at our North Pole decorations,
and gaily calls out “Grammy! Grampy! It’s your Kukla! I’m here!” …. 
my nickname for our youngest granddaughter, Colette.
She flings herself into my arms
and we share a big warm Kukla Hug.
Her hugs are the best and I don’t want to let go.
Eyes smiling, she excitedly tells me
she saw Santa and the elves outside
and asks if we can bake Christmas cookies today.
Every day with her really is
the most wonderful time of the year.





NAR © 2023






My Kukla








Moonwashed Weekly Prompt – Boundless









What do you see # 216- December 11, 2023









FOWC with Fandango — Back







This is Pentatonix with “The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year”


















Please join us today
for a very special 
holiday edition of
“Be Our Guest”.
https://rhythmsection.blog/








		


			
		
	






	
	

		Story
THE CALL
	


	

							

			 Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶		
		
		

			













Out of the blue the call arrived. It was late and I was beyond tired after a day of Christmas shopping and decorating. We were tempted to let it go straight to voice mail, but Gary thought it might be important. 





“Gary? Hi, it’s Alice from the adoption agency. I hope you and Carol are sitting down! We have a baby for you! Can you come by in the morning to talk?”





Gary stood up; his face registered shock. “What? My God! Are you sure?” Completely convinced that something terrible had happened, I grabbed the phone from Gary. “This is Carol Wheeler. Who’s this, please?”  





It was not bad news …. just the opposite. It was elating, magical, top-of-the-world, The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year news! 





A baby in need of a home! A baby for us to love!! 





“Yes!! We’ll be there! Oh, Alice. I’m so happy! Thank you so much!” I was rambling. 





Dumbstruck, we stood there …. then pandemonium broke loose. Laughing, crying, hugging, kissing, dancing, tossing tinsel around the room like crazy people. Anytime would have been amazing but for this to be happening during the holiday season was wondrous!





We didn’t think …. or even care …. to ask “boy, girl, age, etc., etc.”? After eight years of trying to get pregnant and faced with disappointment each time, an incredibly strong and loving stranger was presenting us with the most precious gift imaginable. 





“Gary, do you realize in a few days we will be a family of three?” I asked breathlessly.





IN A FEW DAYS!!  





All tiredness forgotten, we raced to the attic for the plastic bins of assorted baby items. There in the corner stood the bassinet; it seemed to glow in the darkness. I believe at that moment I heard angels singing. We reverently carried it down to our room. I leaned into Gary, overcome with elated exhaustion. 





And then the phone rang a second time. We stared at it, afraid to answer, sure it was Alice calling to say the baby’s mom had changed her mind, there would be no happy family for us. 





I reached for the phone and wearily, warily said “This is Carol.”





“Carol, it’s Alice again. Sorry to bother you and Gary but there’s been a development.”





I closed my eyes waiting for the words I didn’t want to hear. Not now, not at Christmastime. Alice continued talking and I felt my knees growing weak.





Stunned, crying, all I could manage was a hushed “Oh, Alice! Are you absolutely sure? How could this be happening? Yes. Yes, I understand.”  





I hung up the phone without even saying goodbye. I was already crying when I turned to face Gary. He held me close and whispered “Shh. It’s ok, honey. Everything will be ok. Another baby is out there waiting for us. It’s just a matter of time.”  





On tiptoes, I reached up to give my darling husband a little kiss. I murmured “I love you”, my mouth just brushing his. I looked into his eyes and spoke, my voice breaking.





“Oh, Gary. There was a mix up at the hospital and Alice was given the wrong information.”





Gary started to speak but I gently placed my fingers on his lips to quiet him. I continued.





  “Alice called just now to ask how we feel about adopting twins.”





I’m quite sure neither of us was breathing at that moment. Gary’s eyes grew wide as the realization sunk in and I let out a little laugh. Gary put up two fingers and mouthed the word “Two”. I nodded and replied “Two. Twin girls”.





We fell to the couch, a huddle of tears and laughter and hugs. Then I heard my love’s voice next to my ear: “I told you another baby was out there waiting for us!”





Twins! Oh, what a joyful Christmas this will be!





NAR © 2023





This is Mark Tremonti with “The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year”


















I hope you’ll join me today
for an all new In The Groove
as I welcome in the holidays.
Stop by for some great tunes!
https://rhythmsection.blog/








		


			
		
	






	
	

		Short Story
THE SLOW LEARNER
	


	

							

			 Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶		
		
		

			


© Ayr/Gray











So that was it, then. She finally left him. After all those threats and tearful rants, she packed a bag and left.





Oh, this wasn’t the first time. Every week she’d get into a tizzy, start throwing things around the place, threatening to leave. But she never did.





She’d get as far as the front door, then stop, turn around and run back into his open arms. They’d fall on the bed and passionately make up, each one promising never to fight again, each one swearing their unending love. Always feeding off each other’s desperation.





It never ceased to amuse him, the look of shock on her face when he beat her each time after having sex. What a stupid, insipid cow. She never learned her lesson. The one thing he hated more than her rants was the fact that she was such a slow learner.





But this time’s different. She actually left him.





On the third morning, alone in their tiny apartment, he lit a cigarette and stared out the window. That’s when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. So, she couldn’t stay away after all. He didn’t even bother turning around when the door opened. He knew one look at her face, he’d want to bash it in.





Just as well. He never saw the gun as she ended his life.





“Police. There’s been a shooting. Send someone round. Yes, the phone booth by Miller’s Road.”





And she hung up and put a bullet in her head.





NAR © 2023
250 Words







The Unicorn Challenge-10/11/23

















This is Cher and “Bang Bang”