Karen looked at the video of the strange creatures that someone who works with his father at the university had made. “Oh Daddy, they look like little angels. They’re so beautiful.”
“Actually, Karen,” her father said, “these ethereal little sea slugs are commonly called ‘sea angels,’ so you are very smart by saying they look like little angels.”
“Can we have one?” Karen asked. “Can you bring one home from work?”
“I wish I could, sweetheart,” her father responded. “But these little sea angels live in the very cold waters of the Arctic Ocean. If I brought one home, it wouldn’t be able to survive. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
“But if they’re angels, won’t God protect them?” Karen asked.
“God does protect them by making them able to survive and thrive in very cold water, her father said. “But now my fellow marine biology scientists need to do everything we can to help God protect the sea angels so they won’t be wiped out due to climate change and global warming.”
“Don’t be silly, Daddy,” Karen said. “Climate change is not real.”
“Of course it’s real, honey,” her father said. “Why would you think it’s not?”
“Because President Trump said global warming is a Chinese hoax,” Karen said.
“Sweetie,” her father said, “he may be president but he’s notorious for spewing fake news.”
Written for today’s Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt and for today’s Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (FOWC) where the word is “notorious.”
“I’m always standing in Wayne’s shadow,” Ken groused. “I do all the work and he stands up, grabs the spotlight, and takes all the credit.”
“Well,” said Ellen, “he’s the sales guy. That’s what sales guys do. You’re the subject matter expert. What do yo call it? The “SME”? You’re the man behind the man.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Ken said. “But it would be nice if Wayne would deign to give credit where credit is due. He wouldn’t be half as successful a salesman as he is were it not for me.”
“Have you talked to him about how you feel?” Ellen asked. “Maybe if you were a little more assertive, you might get the credit you feel you deserve.”
“The funny thing is, Ellen,” Ken said. “I could do what he does, but he couldn’t do what I do. I’m the friggin’ wind beneath his goddam wings!”
“Perhaps you should go to the head of sales and see if you can apply for a job as a salesman,” Ellen suggested.
“What?” Ken said. “And stand up in front of all those people and make a sales pitch? No way.”
“Okay then,” Ellen said. “Apparently in the shadows you were meant to stand.”
Written for this week’s Let It Bleed Challenge, where the prompt is the word “shadows.”
“My favorite book of all time is The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien,” Daniel said.
“Mine is Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility,” Allison said. “I love romance novels and that book is so romantic.”
Have you ever read The Hobbit? Daniel asked?
“No,” Allison responded. “I just said that I like romance books, so why would I read a book like that?”
“Are you kidding me?” Daniel said. “The Hobbit is a quest, a journey, a challenge, an adventure. What can be more romantic than that? It is the ultimate romance book.”
“You’re such a boy,” Allison said.
Written for today’s Three Things Challenge from Teresa over at The Haunted Wordsmith. The three things are “boy,” “hobbit,” and “romance.”
“My mother wants to meet you,” she answered, “but I don’t want to take you to her house.”
“Why? Are you ashamed of me, embarrassed by me?”
“Oh no, Neal, not at all. It has nothing to do with you, I swear,” Angie told him.
“Well, what is it, then?” Neal wanted to know. “Why don’t you want me to meet your mother? Maybe it’s time. We’ve been dating for six months. ”
Angie took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Again, it’s not you. It’s my mother.”
“What about her?” Neal asked. “Is there something wrong with her?”
“There’s nothing physically or mentally wrong with her,” Angie said. “But she has a somewhat bizarre sense of style.”
“I don’t understand,” Neal said. “What do you mean by bizarre sense of style?”
“Never mind,” Angie said, grabbing Neal’s hand. “This is as good a time as any to introduce you two to one another.
They walked hand in hand towards Angie’s mother’s house for six blocks. As they approached the house, Angie stopped, squeezed Neal’s hand, and said, “See?”
“Yes,” Neal said. “A pair of pink flamingos. That is bizarre.”
(199 Words)
Written for today’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt from Susan. Photo credit: Susan Spaulding.
For this week’s Song Lyric Sunday prompt from Helen Vahdati, she has asked us to post a song with a metaphor in the title or lyrics.
The song that came to mind for me is the classic Eagles song, “Hotel California.” That song is arguably the Eagles’ most iconic song. It was a Billboard chart-topper, selling more than 16 million copies in the U.S. alone and was on the Billboard Hot 100 chart for 19 weeks, peaking at No. 1. In 1978, the song won a Grammy award for Record of the Year.
Written by Don Felder, Glenn Frey, and Don Henley, “Hotel California” is a metaphor for materialism and excess. While California is used as the setting, it could relate to anywhere in America. Don Henley said the song is “about the dark underbelly of the American Dream, and about excess in America which was something we knew about.”
Another popular interpretation of the song is that it’s a metaphor for Hollywood. The Eagles compare the fickle, temporary, and false nature of all the glamor found in Hollywood to that of a short-stay in a hotel. No one knows how long they are going to be famous, so they have to make the most out of it.
Whatever it means, it’s a haunting, surreal song. And here are the lyrics.
On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night
There she stood in the doorway
I heard the mission bell
And I was thinking to myself
“This could be Heaven or this could be Hell”
Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor
I thought I heard them say
Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
Plenty of room at the Hotel California
Any time of year (Any time of year)
You can find it here
Her mind is Tiffany-twisted, she got the Mercedes bends
She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys she calls friends
How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat
Some dance to remember, some dance to forget
So I called up the Captain
“Please bring me my wine.”
He said, “We haven’t had that spirit here since nineteen sixty nine.”
And still those voices are calling from far away
Wake you up in the middle of the night
Just to hear them say
Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
They livin’ it up at the Hotel California
What a nice surprise (what a nice surprise)
Bring your alibis
Mirrors on the ceiling
The pink champagne on ice
And she said “We are all just prisoners here, of our own device”
And in the master’s chambers
They gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives
But they just can’t kill the beast
Last thing I remember
I was running for the door
I had to find the passage back to the place I was before “Relax,” said the night man
“We are programmed to receive
You can check-out any time you like
But you can never leave!”
Karen looked at the video of the strange creatures that someone who works with his father at the university had made. “Oh Daddy, they look like little angels. They’re so beautiful.”
This, That, and the Other 