#WDYS — If You Build It…

I wanted it to be a work of art. Not just any old bird house, but the equivalent of an opulent five star luxury hotel. And why not? My prospective occupants would be the crème de la crème of the feathered wing society. Nothing but the best for them.

I expected these magnificent birds to flock to my nest. But I was disappointed that, even after a few weeks, no fine feathered friends showed up. Where did I go wrong?

But imagine my surprise and delight when I woke up one morning, checked the nest, and found four eggs within it.

I took a picture of the eggs and sent them to an ornithologist friend of mine. He said that those eggs most likely belong to a common quail.

Common quail? Well, I’m going to be a great host, even if my feathered guests are mere commoners!


Written for Sadje’s What Do You See prompt. Photo credit: Tivasee @ Pexels.

FFfPP — The Painted Ladies

3CB54876-AC06-47D9-BB8E-12CFA99FCE1EDavid and Adele would take their dog, Bandit, on his daily walks at the Alamo Square Park in San Francisco. On the east side of the park stood the row of iconic San Francisco Victorian homes known as “The Painted Ladies.”

“Wouldn’t you love to live in one of those Painted Ladies?” Adele asked David one beautiful spring morning.

“No way,” David said. “We’d have no privacy at all. People would be standing in the park across the street snapping photos of our home. And I heard that the people who live there are constantly having to deal with tourists knocking at their doors and wanting to have a tour of their homes.”

“Still,” Adele said, “These homes are beautiful, they are in a great location, with the park across the street and stunning, panoramic views of the city from the rear. How could you not want to live in one of them?”

“It’s an unrealistic and impractical fantasy of yours that we can’t come close to being able to afford,” David said. “Now let’s head home and get some breakfast. Bandit and I are starved.”

As David and Adele were sitting at their small kitchen table eating breakfast, David said, “Isn’t this interesting?”

“Isn’t what interesting?” Adele asked her husband.

David held up that day’s edition of the San Francisco Chronicle. The headline read:

Iconic Painted Ladies to be Razed to Make Room for Luxury Hi-Rise Condos


Written for Roger Shipp’s Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. Photo credit: MorgueFile March2020 file000508086684.

Glamping

Sandy Pines Campground, Kennebunkport, Maine.“I am so excited about going glamping at the Royal Forest Campsite in the midst of the giant Sequoias this weekend,” Delores said.

“Glamping?” Richard said. “You mean camping, don’t you?”

“Oh you silly boy, heavens no,” Delores laughed. “I meant what I said — glamping.”

“What is glamping?”

“Glamping is a mashup of the words ‘glamorous’ and ‘camping,’” Delores said. “It’s essentially camping in style, or luxury camping. It’s  camping without any of the hassle or hard work or dirt!”

“But I thought you were fervid when it came to camping,” Richard said. “You loved roughing it in nature, getting down and dirty. When did you embrace this luxury glamping thing?”

“Oh yes, I loved camping the old fashioned way, my dear boy,” Delores said, “but that was when I still had my youthful exuberance. Now I’m older, wiser, and most important, I’m more delicate these days. By the way, did you remember to call the camp headquarters and reserve a site?”

“Oh damn,” Richard said, “I knew there was something you asked me to do that I totally forgot about.”


Written for these daily prompts: The Daily Spur (royal), Your Daily Word Prompt (giant), Daily Addictions (camping), Ragtag Daily Prompt (fervid), Word of the Day Challenge (youthful), and Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (reserve).