Categories
poetry

Next summer


The water pools under her dirty feet
Dark and clay-like they sink further into the murky deep
“Stick to me like glue , “she thinks
There’s always next summer to get you clean
The water swirls in her dirty sink
I’ve been washing these hands for years it seems
The cracks are trials of yet another week
But there’s always next summer to get you clean
The water ebbs at her bended knees
I’ve been waiting on them for decades in silent plea
So stiff and weary from years of no belief
There’s always next summer to get you clean
The water flows in the swollen creek
No boulders trapping it’s fast release
Just the sharp, jagged edges of it’s furious relief
And there is always next summer to get you clean
Categories
entertainment fiction humor Lifestyle

April 24,2020


Friday Fictioneers

http://rochellewisoff.com/2020/04/22/24-april-2020/

Categories
fiction humor

Marie Antoinette’s Foibles ala Versailles : The French Alliance


I learned that I am going to be French today. I guess you think congratulations are in order. I suppose . I mean, you probably think I’m the luckiest girl in the world. When you’re an archduchess -of The HOLY ROMAN FREAKING EMPIRE- no less, it’s pretty much a given that you’ll get a decent marriage. Especially when your mama is a bombass Empress who has no idea how to be anything less than fantastic. Throw in a king who is not playing by mama’s rules ( King George III of England )and the youngest daughter(me) who needs a powerful alliance (aka marriage) and voila … you have a new home in the most important, elegant and notoriously extravagant court in all Europe. France.

I’m not really a fan of politics or alliances or anything that has no fun in it but I hear that Mama hates the French. So why did she ship me in her words “straight to the lion’s den ?” To France -a land of the most wicked king in the world?

Well, simply put it it’s that my mama hates the English even more than she hates the French king, a pompous prig whose name is Louis XV who in turn hates old George III as well so there you go -and, it’s the only logical solution. The enemies of your enemies are your friends. I think that’s how it goes. But I’m not really sure what it means other than that I am going to France. Quite the honor, you see .

What could possibly go wrong?

Absolutely everything. I’m 13 and 41 minutes old, to be exact and I’m exactly what I’m supposed to be. Young, frivolous and carefree. I love dogs and dancing. I am a happy and naive girl that is the hope of the Hapburg dynasty.

Who am I, you ask?

Oops, you mean I didn’t properly introduce myself? My name is Maria Antonia Josepha but you can call me Marie Antoinette.

Categories
fiction short story

The Sweepstakes


Clean it up , buttercup

I’m an angry cleaner and I always have been. My great grandmother knew it before I did. She said that if you married a woman who cleaned when she was angry then you better not give her a real serious reason to be angry, because she wouldn’t leave any evidence and she’d be ready for visitors – to pay their respect during the mourning period.

Then she cackled and told me my great grandpa had gotten the nurse pregnant and wanted her to raise the baby . She also told me how sorry she was that I had cancer and congratulated me on my marriage to Bob Barker from the game show , “ The Price is Right”.

The only thing she was right about was the cleaning when angry part . 

This was a lot to take in when you were 12 years old but I really wanted to see how I fast I could clean my room during a temper tantrum. Maybe I could set a record or something.

The front porch was swept up in a flash and the spotless floor had no idea how much I wanted to do it again .

Categories
fiction Lifestyle

Friday Fictioneers


Tired of frostbite , HD decided to try his luck in the personal ads:

I’m looking to meet the girl who melts my heart . I’m usually the one who is accused of being a little frosty at first but when you get to know me , I’m super chill . I’m not always cool but I wanna meet some gals who are not expecting lukewarm or watered down company . I’m not into curdling but if you think your the cream of the crop, maybe we can make it rain .. snow or sleet. I’ll shake things up for ya. Who’s ready for this milkshake?
P.S. It turns out that Susan in accounting is.

Categories
fiction

Friday Fictioneers


rochellewisoff.com/2019/07/24/26-july-2019/

Photo by Sandra Cook

”Edith, what on earth are you writing? I swear you are too much! ” Edith’s friend had an abundant, round face that showed how amused she was by Edith’s ardent participation in the re-enactment exercise, cleverly made possible by the owners of the Dracula Travel Train.

Edith however, continued to write furiously.

Dear J:

“I have at last escaped from the Count and am anxiously awaiting the due diligence to deliver me to safety. I must say the locals are not so helpful and forthcoming as previously surmised. Haste is of utmost importance !

Both women were startled by the words of the newest passenger who made his presence known only by flatly stating ” The dead travel fast.”

Illustration from Dracula, Bram Stoker , 1867

Categories
Lifestyle

Black Water


I would say I hate you

but I hate me more

I drained the bath water then dove headfirst

into remiss or a longing that’s called

a nightmare , the abyss

I siphoned the filth out of my weeping lungs

and choked on my bitter tongue

With that violent chasm

I sputtered half dead

and drowned the last little bit of sad

the proverbial baby and all that jazz

out with the dirty wash I thought you ‘d go

but then I heard you snoring  or wheezing or maybe reeling

as I rolled over and smothered that thought

of missing your lips and crushed that last regress

hard pressed though

to shed a tear this time

the wound it’s just too old

with now stone cold fingertips,

I  brushed  you off

then finally ,you go

Auvoir, kiss, kiss and

Away…then

You’re gone