“I want to be the love of your life, Amanda,” Brian said. “What must I do to be your Prince Charming?”
Amanda thought for a moment and said,
“You need to bring me flowers
For no particular reason.
You need to be a man I can lionize
Someone who casts long shadows
A man who isn’t at all pedantic
And who would never lead a vendetta
Or leave me in isolation
You must be my novella hero
And cast a romantic spell over me
Then you’ll be my Prince Charming.”
Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver prompt, which is to describe what it takes to be a Prince Charming. Also for Paula Light’s Thursday Inspiration prompt, where the word is “flowers.” And for these daily prompts: Your Daily Word Prompt (lionize), Ragtag Daily Prompt (long shadows), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (pedantic), Word of the Day Challenge (vendetta), The Daily Spur (isolation), MMA Storytime (novella), and Linda G. Hill’s Just Jot it January (spell).
“Look,” Emily said to Jim, holding her hands out for him to see.
Jim got a confused look on his face. “Why do you have those white flowers between your fingers on both of your hands?” he asked.
“Because, silly,” Emily said, “I’m excited about our trip to San Francisco this weekend, where the girls wear flowers on their hands.”
Now Jim was even more confused. “What are you talking about, Emily?”
“That song,” she responded. “The one about San Francisco where the lyrics talk about going to San Francisco and wearing flowers on your hands.”
Jim shook his head. “I think you’re a little confused,” he said. “First of all, the lyrics say flowers in your hair, not on your hands. Second of all, that song was written back in the hippie days in 1967, Emily, almost 30 years before you were born. People don’t go around with flowers in their hair anymore, even in San Francisco. And definitely not on their hands.”
Emily meekly turned to Jim and simply said, “Never mind.”
Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge prompt. Photo credit: cottonbro on Pexels.com.
Many thought she was a simple girl with a simple mind. She spent her time alone, up in the attic, simply painting simple pictures.
She started with a simple painting of her pet dog. Then one of her neighbor’s cat. Of flowers and animals and animals with flowers. Of homes and hills and sunrises and sunsets. All simple, each unique.
Her simple paintings remained unseen by anyone else, even her parents. When they died, in their simple will, they left their simple daughter their simple house. The simple girl, shy and retiring, had to, for survival, leave her simple house periodically. But she continued to spend most her time living her simple life painting her simple pictures. Hundreds of them. Maybe a thousand. Maybe more.
After years of painting her simple pictures, her health fell into a deep descent. She developed a serious cough, one that ultimately proved fatal.
A representative from the town’s property assessor’s office came to assess the value of the simple house. He went up to the attic and discovered something that no one would have been able to predict. He found a treasure trove of simple paintings, paintings that were valued in the simple millions.
Written for Susan Spaulding’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt. Photo credit: Susan Spaulding. Also for these one-word prompts: Ragtag Daily Prompt (pet), Word of the Day Challenge (unique), Michael’s Writing Prompts (descent), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (cough), Your Daily Word Prompt (representative), and Daily Addictions (predict).
No doubt that most who respond to today’s Word of the Day Tuesday Photo Prompt will be posting pictures or telling stories about the wonderfully fragrant flowers in their gardens, of the sweet fragrance of delicious foods being prepared in their kitchens, or of the sexy scent of perfume or cologne worn by their lovers. After all, today’s word is “fragrant.”
When I think of fragrant, though, I think of what greets me every morning when I wake up. It’s a rather pungent fragrance. It hits me almost as soon as I leave my bedroom. The fragrance is so powerful and maleficent that it occasionally stimulates a gag reflex.
So as I write of the word fragrant, it’s not about flowers, food, or perfume that comes to mind. It’s of the fragrant little giftie that my cat leaves me in his litter box sometime during the dark of the night.
“We need to go to the plant shop and get some new flowers for the garden,” Liz told her husband.
“Didn’t we get a whole lot of new plants last year?” Larry asked.
“Yes,” Liz answered, “but those were annuals. They last only one year and need to be replanted each spring.”
“Don’t they have flowers that grow back each year?”
“Yes,” Liz said, “Perennials. But they bloom for just a few weeks each year, whereas annuals provide beautiful colors from spring through fall.”
“Who knew?” Larry said.
“At least one of us has a green thumb,” Liz said.
Written for this week’s 100 Word Wednesday prompt from Bikurgurl. Photo credit: Cathal Mac an Bheatha.