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 |    Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
| PROMPT May 11th: Write your entry today from the perspective of an animal. You could choose a pet, a lioness on the hunt, a rhino being pursued by poachers, or any other animal of your choice. I'm small so you didn't see me. Was quiet so you ignored me as I munched. I didn't mean to upset your lunch. My life's so short. But there you were. Big and bullyish. Only thinking about yourself. You wanted it all and left us nothing. Most of my kin were slaughtered, drowned or steamed to death. We-others must seek a new home. But we don't need much. A few crumbs. A dark corner of a box. You say you could live without us. But our offspring lead to generations, even if yours do not. My name's Tenebrio, but you can call me Darkling. I survive in the dryness of your dust. I might make this into a poem or something so I have to date it (10.maio.2019) and catalog it [176.77]. It's based on my experience opening a box of spaghetti and finding mealworms. I cleaned it as best I could and made spaghetti with cream of asparagus (kinda like an alfredo sauce). The other half is in a sealed container. Mealworms are edible by-the-way. I tried dried ones once in Costa Rica. ACCOMPLISHMENTS: sat with my friend to go over a couple flash-fictions. He writes essays and short stories. I don't know how to write a story even when I write a good one. I don't know what I'm doing. That said, flash-fiction is short to very short. Since I write short poems I do understand the economy of words and images that both demand. NEW BLOGVILLE: Did my rounds. Short entries today. Only so many ways to sing Happy Birthday! IMAGES: bacon and eggs (not mine, Travis'); alpenglow on the mountains at 20:48. The days are long. It will stay this way until the end of July. It was warm! 20ºc. Very pleasant with a breeze. Short-sleeve weather around these parts. Flash-fiction prompt was: "Tell me the truth". I will never be forgiven "I'm the biggest, the best." My childhood friend in Queens always boasted about himself but I had seen tears flow when he was mocked. He tried to hide them from everyone else. He mocked them in return. Snowballs were returned with iceballs in the '50s, in Summer a rock with a bigger rock. He had to win, at whatever cost. When he lost he just lied, "I'm the best". And go off in a huff. In school he did whatever he wanted. Grades didn't matter. He was destined to be King he told me although he said he'd settle for the crown and the money. Life was all about fun. And taking shame or blame was not the name of the game he played. He made the rules. We used to talk about love. I mentioned my latest crush; he looked into a mirror. I always wondered whether he was a virgin. He'd let no one touch him. "Germs!", he'd exclaim. I felt abandoned when he went off to college. I was just a powerless pawn and he wanted to be surrounded by knights and ladies-in-waiting, as long as the knights were knaves as well and the ladies weren't too lady-like. He suffered no fools other than himself. But that seemed to be centuries ago in some fairy-tale until I saw him surrounded by his court. I didn't recognize any of them but he hadn't changed. The spotlight followed him like his shadow, cast long, vengeful, dark. Hoping he wouldn't see me, I hid. Like I did after I first dared to ask him, "Tell me the truth". I'll never forget his laugh. I'll never forget the gleam in his eyes as he said, "I never tell a lie". And in his mind, he never has since. © Kåre Enga (10.may.2019) [176.76]
101.709 |
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