Acquire, Mammoth, Quick

Light from the campfire illuminated the elder’s face.

“The winter was deep and harsh. Hunting was scarce and the people hungry. Elga the Wise Woman dreamed of a stray mammoth away from its herd many leagues distant.

“We were thirty-seven men and twenty-one hounds. We dared not take much in supplies so the people wouldn’t suffer greatly.

“Three days and nights to find the beast, another four to hunt and slay it. It was strong.

“It gave us its life, giving the people life. Elga acquired the prime pieces. To the gods she gave the beast’s quick.”

Polar, Vortex, Bear

“…and note that as we look at the Fibonacci Series and the related Golden Ratio, instead of looking at it as the series heads towards infinity and the ratio towards Euler’s Constant, instead let’s look at the resulting spiral, in a polar graphing system, heading towards the ultimate Vortex! That of zero!”

Paul wondered why John had dragged him here. Clearly the speaker was a dolt, trying to sound profound, but to anyone who knew anything about maths, or Greek architecture, or really had any sort of education that was worth a damn, it was pure crap. It was hard to bear.

Radio, Head, Rush

I’ve worked in a couple of different cities where, when lunch ended and the afternoon started to roll along, people would start listening to their radios. The idea was that in the event of a traffic accident on the bridge (one city) or bad weather (another city), they would rush off to be at the head of the line for the ferry (the first city) or the bus (the second city) for commuting home.

I wasn’t one of those people. When things got bad during the commute, I’d just shrug and make my way home. I got there eventually.

Sensible, Crisp, Yoke

It was the time of year when the air turns crisp and the sun hangs lower in the sky. It was the time to harvest, to yoke the oxen, and take a portion of his harvest to his lord. It was the time for men to trade for supplies using the remainder of the harvest. Sensible men would stay sober in town and not drink away a year’s worth of toil.

Bartlett was a sober man. He woke early, worked hard, ate modestly. He rarely smiled and spoke mostly of the weather, agriculture, and husbandry. He knew nothing else. 

Foreign, Concentrate, Possibility

The silk clad crone waved her hands over and around the crystal ball, invoking spirits to commune with her. Her wealthy patrons sat rapt as Madame Margot implored them to focus.

“Concentrate! Peer deep within the orb. What secrets might be revealed? What possibility might be known?”

A strange voice, thick with the foreign accent of an exotic land, erupted from her throat.

“Who calls me forth?! Who shall pay the price? Where is my sacrifice?”

A pompous little man with a modest moustache clapped his hands.

“Oh, isn’t this ever so good!”

Eyes that weren’t Madam’s burned his soul.

Fixate, Knot, Blow

He’d known it’d happen in time and now his time had come. He’d been approached and a deal struck with the understanding that this would put some money in his pocket and keep his family safe. The fix was in and he was the fall guy. His trainer tied the final knot, head bowed.

There’d been a time when he’d fixated on reaching the top, of being the champ. This deal would end that run.

He entered the ring knowing that in the fifth round, he’d drop his guard slightly, take the blow, and lose to a lesser man.

Rerun, Nightmare, Slid

A mother’s greatest nightmare is dealing with her child’s serious injury or disease. My mother had that nightmare rerun each year, without fail, on Mother’s Day, for several years running.

My brother and I seemingly took turns in being the one needing some number of stitches put into some part (or parts) of our bodies.

One year a nail in a fence found its way into my forehead, another a rusty part of a teeter-totter slid through the web between my thumb and forefinger.

Thankfully, the cycle ended without loss of limb or permanent damage. 

Exceed, Blunt, Enlist

When a new 21-year old college graduate takes command of a combat platoon full of people who have faced death on a daily basis, it can get awkward. When he tries to look tough as he gives his initial address to these people, such as having them stand at attention in the beating sun, their 1000-yard stares simply look through him.

As the young grad says things about “Let me be blunt - I expect you to exceed my expectations” and “I’ll enlist the best in each of you”, they know he’ll leave in two years. Or less.

Post, Slice, Marshmallow

“Fuck! Slice, again!”

Tommy was the pro at what had to be the most pathetic golf course in the country and so was the instructor for all the pathetic golfers in the country.

Mr. Wheaton, aged 76, had decided to take up golf as exercise. He was a former “salty” sailor who had a mouth and attitude to match. Those didn’t help his game.

“Yes sir, you sliced. Focus on the ball, not on where you want it to go. Move you body like a unit but not stiff like a post. And no marshmallow arms.”

Same instructions, different day.

Rancid, Lock, Beam

“He believed it?”

“Lock, stock, and barrel.”

For anyone looking at the scene, they’d see two young men, giggling idiotically, drunkenly huddled in a corner at a friend’s house with a loud party going on around them. For anyone getting close enough, they’d immediately turn around to get away from the overwhelmingly rancid stink of alcohol.

As that observer would be heading to the closest exit for some fresh air, they’d see another drunken idiot standing in the front lawn with eyes screwed up tight and fingers to temples, attempting to beam himself back to his two “friends”.

Moon, Gripe, Salivate

Exhaustion had taken her head and crushed all thought out of it. Her body had molded itself to the rocking chair; sitting night after night deep into each night with her colicky baby was taking its toll.

Gripe water didn’t work. Only being held upright did. He slept and she tried. Exhaustion is odd, isn’t it? Too exhausted and your body forgets how to fall asleep.

The moon shone through the window and illuminated the back of his head. It was moments like this that helped her endure.

She opened her eyes moments later; she’d sleep salivated onto her nightgown.

Dazzle, Encumber, Protect

Her detractors called her “Manica”, but Monica Roberts took the insult as a badge of honour. As the first trans-woman to run a successful clothing company, she knew a thing or three about business. Today she’d met with her legal counsel on ways to protect the trademark on Dazzle Jeans, the flagship product.

He wanted to “encumber their competitors with lawsuits”, or in other words, sue their pants off. She wanted to try negotiating first. He resisted. She insisted. He made the mistake of using her “other name”. One call to HR later and his desk was empty.

Glass, Super, Mint

“If you had a super power, what would you have?”

Damon was lying on the floor of his bedroom, staring up at the ceiling. Bryce, his best friend, was reading the latest X-men comic while sitting against the floor.

“Uh… I don’t know. Maybe the ability to make any comic book mint.”

Damon sat up.

“What kind of stupid power is that? What about super strength? Reading minds? Shooting shards of glass from your eyes?”

Bryce kept reading.

“Do you know how much your collection would be worth if all your comics were mint?”

That made Damon pause.

Smile, Pieces, Strong

Ken’s first speed dating experience wasn’t going well at all. It all started with his first “date”:

“Hi, I’m Ken.”

“Hi, I’m Jessica. I just need you to know that I’m a Pisces.”

Ken was so nervous that he latched onto that bit of information. His mind began to race - she’d mentioned that she’s a Pisces, so that must be important to her. Pisces smile a lot, they are strong-willed, twelfth sign of the zodiac, she believes in astrology…

“Pisces, eh? I’m a Gemini.”

“What? No - I said I’m in pieces! Emotional pieces! Geez!”

Mess, Escape, Collapse

Captain Marshall sat down in the Officer’s Mess in his usual seat at the head of the table, looking fierce. Along both sides of the table, the other officers sat quietly, looking down.

As tureens of food were served, the Captain tried to make eye contact with anyone. Not even the First Mate acknowledged him.

“I was in the right!”, roared the Captain as he threw stew into his bowl.

“No, you weren’t” murmured the XO as the musket blast hit the Captain in the belly. He flopped over, collapsed, and tried to make his escape.

Building, Ikea, Furniture

“Hey Ollie!”

“Ya Wallie?”

“What’cha buildin’?”

“Not sure Wallie.”

“What do you mean you’re not sure, Ollie? Ya went ta Ikea and ya baught somethin’. Looks furniture-like, ya know, Ollie?”

“Ah Wallie - why ya tryin’ ta spoil it for me? I don’t skip to da end of da novels Wallie an I ain’t about to do dat on dese here instructions.”

“Ah… yah… ya have yarself a good read Ollie.”

Curry, Cycle, Ask

The date she was on with Roger, despite her best efforts, was not going well. Shelley pitied him - he was socially awkward, painfully shy, and clumsy - and so while she wanted the date to end soon, she wasn’t going to simply walk away. And that squeaky voice of his…

“Shelley? You listening? I was just saying how my fish tank is going through a cycle.”

“May I ask what that means?”

“It means, silly, that the tank is currently toxic to my fish. They died.”

“Oh my!”

“It’s ok. I made a curry.”

She began to look for an exit.

Rug, Pug, Hug

*Whine, whine*

“Hey! Hey! Hey you! What you in for? You crap on the rug?”

“Nooo…”

“Hey! Hey! You’re a pug, yeah? You pugnacious?”

“Whaaaa?”

Another voice further down the room barked out “Leave ‘em be Frenchie. Sorry about Frenchie there pup. He’s here for eating an encyclopedia.”

Frenchie kept up.

“Hey! Hey! You’re a pugilist, yeah?”

Another voice came from further down the room. “He clearly ain’t, Frenchie. But I am. Knock it off or when we’re off leash tomorrow I’ll be looking for ya. Got it?”

“Yeah! Yeah! No worries, Butch! Sorry Pug.”

*****

Remember, shelter dogs need hugs.

Sly, Rose, Sat

Brandon sat on a stump, not looking at much of anything at all, his paintball gun laying across his lap. He’d been a last minute substitute for his older brother’s team - one of the guys was down with the flu. Since he was the new guy, he had to stay behind and guard the flag. It sucked.

While his eyes weren’t watching for much, his ears picked up the sound of someone trying to be sly, misstepping and breaking a twig. Slowly, heart pounding, Brandon rose, grabbed his gun, and readied himself for his first ever paintball battle royale.  

Popcorn, Fire, Fleece

A dark figure stood near a fire burning low in a rusty, battered oil drum, one of many burning in skid row. His fleece-lined suit kept him warm, despite the bitter cold.

“Hey mister, wanna drink?”

A ragged figure staggered up to him, swaying from drink and stinking of poor hygiene.

“No.”

The dark figure reached for a scented cloth.

“Well… want some fresh-popped popcorn?”

The dark figure looked sharply at this unfortunate human.

“You have the microfiche?”

“Nahhhhh… but your friend said to look up.”

Looking up, he spotted the sniper's laser sight.

Ferment, Slight, Nice

Nice, France was a city under siege. The city’s fury was directed against a referee who didn’t penalize an opposing player for an injury-causing foul of their star player. People had taken to the streets, ready for violence. All it would take would be a single slight by a fan of the opposing team to ignite the city.

Perhaps it was inevitable that the trouble would be instigated by someone drunk on “fermented grape” as it’s known. The flames of anger spread quickly onto the streets, burning cars and breaking store windows, causing millions of euros in damage.

Bored, Roll, Slave

“I am not a slave to my desires. I am bored and not bothered by everything around me.”

Francisco ran through his mantra, readying himself for this, his final task. His guru assured him that enlightenment was his if only he could a. smell but not eat his mother’s food, b. listen to but not argue with his brother Roberto, (who was an idiot), and c. sit but not squirm for the entire time at the dinner table.

It was going to be a long night; he kept wanting to reach for a dinner roll to dip in the sauce.

Pure, Honey, Groove

Winnie-the-Pooh is a beloved resident of Hundred Acre Wood. He and his friends go on adventures, sing songs, play games, and generally enjoy life (except Eeyore, but that’s another story).

The stories don’t mention another bear in those woods, Vinny-the-Poo-Poo-Mouth as some know him, or as he calls himself, Pure Fuckin’ Sunshine.

When he “gets his groove on”, usually late at night after drinking enough fermented honey to pickle a mammoth, he starts singing Guns-N-Roses tunes at the top of his lungs, throwing empty jugs at trees, and picking fights with elms.

Shower, Plus, Nonsense

I dance with Nonsense,
in a shower of warming rain.
I bow to him and he to me.
My madness made plain.

He in his overcoat
and me in my cap
Heady summertime smells
Like rose and pine sap

Deliciously delightful
only my dance partner and I
One and one plus no other
Spread our wings and like birds we fly

Oh Nonsense is like no other
He’s freely dee dee di dee
Delicious dances in summer
And he lives inside of me

Flower, Nirvana, Dug

I remember the video game casinos of my youth. Flashy, noisy Nirvana, which was also a quarter-sucking machine.

I remember Dig Dug, Mario with his various power ups (including the Flaming Flower), PacMan, and more. Kids would flock there trying to beat their high scores, let alone the game’s high score.

Not that I was ever good at those games! Ugh no. Pinball was my game, if only because I had a fighting chance to have the game last for a decent amount of time.

I avoid those parlours now. Too loud, too noisy, and too many kids!

Miss, Sassy, Pants

Princess Bliss was the only child of the King and Queen of Quagmire, a kingdom that was in desperate need of land suitable for farming. Really, if you wanted to kill an invading army with hoards of mosquitoes and other biting insects, Quagmire was your kind of place. Otherwise, not so much.

The King and Queen poured all of their meagre resources into developing Bliss into exceptional marriage material. The problem was that she was sassy. And insisted on wearing pants. And wanted nothing to do with princes. In fact, she wanted to be a mister and not a miss.

Friday, Fragrant, Glow

Groan. Dark. Cold. Alarm snoozed. Snoozing…zzzzz

Groan. Still dark. Still cold. Alarm silenced. Awake enough. Shuffle to bathroom. Start shower, warm water.

Warm steamy bathroom, open door, Gah! Cold!

Get dressed fast! Suits are not built for warmth!

Make way to kitchen, fragrant with fresh brewed coffee. The glow of dawn refracted through icy window. Hot coffee and daylight begin to thaw the brain.

Turn on NPR and listen to whatever is on - anything to break the stillness. Coffee, radio, thoughts. The day begins.

Check the watch; three minutes before the bus.

It’s Monday. Friday is too far away.

Lost, Grasp, Notice

Fred O’Hearn was lost. He’d left that place he’d been put by his rotten children who were looking to steal his things. He felt the stirrings of panic, of losing the ability to notice even the most familiar of things. Eyes wide, his head swung from side-to-side trying to see something, anything that would help him know where he was. He felt a scream rip out of him.

He woke with a start, hand grasping at the air. He felt his heart start to slow down and his breathing deepen.

“I don’t want to go to the Home.”

Flash, Lectern, Synapse

In a medieval building thick with stale air, there is a wrought-iron staircase that descends into a brick-lined wine cellar. The aged casks are there still, but lie empty.

If one should press on a certain cask along the wall in a certain way, a doorway opens into a small meeting room. In it, a lectern stands at one end and a few benches sit, as if ready for use.

As I made a record of this room on paper and with flash camera, an apparition appeared that began to pull my mind apart, synapse by synapse.

Free, flea, fee

“Step right up! See amazing feats of strength by the Strong Man! See the Bearded Lady and the Spider Boy! See Jucama and his amazing trained leopards! Step right up here, ladies and gentlemen! See Benardo’s amazing flea circus! Just ten cents!”

A child tried to walk past.

“This ain’t free, kid! Pay the fee before you see! Go away and bother someone else. Step right up folks!”

Little Jimmy Diamond was often confused for a child because he was the shortest man in the world. He had thought about being a part of this travelling show, but not now.