MLMM Photo Challenge — My Father’s Gloves

img_1404“I swear, I have looked everywhere for them,” Josh said.

“Do you remember where you saw them last?” Hal asked.

“Come on, Hal,” Josh said. “What kind of stupid question is that? If I could remember where I last saw them, they wouldn’t be lost, would they?”

“Well excuse me, Sherlock,” Hal said sarcastically. “They didn’t just disappear, you know.”

“I have to trace back my steps,” Josh said. “That’s my only hope for finding those gloves.”

“Why don’t you just buy a new pair?” Hal asked. “There’s a Target a few blocks from here.”

“You know that those gloves were my father’s,” Josh said. “They’re one of just a few items I have left of his. They’re irreplaceable. I can’t believe I left them somewhere.”

“So what did you do first today?” Hal asked.

“I walked the dog.”

“And you wore the gloves?”

“I usually do. It’s still pretty chilly in the mornings,” Josh said.

“Do you recall taking them off when you got back from the walk?” Hal said.

“Omigod!” Josh shouted. “I sat on the park bench to check the newsfeed on my iPhone for a minute or two and took the gloves off to scroll though the news stories.”

“It’s only been a few hours,” Hal said. “Maybe they’re still on the bench where you left them.”

“Grab your jacket,” Josh ordered.

Written for this week’s Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge. Photo credit Matt Seymour via Unsplash.

Also written for today’s one-word prompt, “disappear.”

MLMM First Line Friday — Storm Warnings

The crash of wave and snap of sail sung to her. She found it thrilling, but she’d always been a bit of an adrenaline junkie.

“We’ve got to take her in, Alice,” Bill shouted, the sound of his voice barely audible with the competition from the wind and the crashing waves.

“No, not yet!” Alice called back. “Maybe it will pass.”

Bill looked at her in disbelief. “You’re dreaming,” he said. “Help me douse the sails.”

“Stop being such a pussy!” Alice yelled back. “Let’s ride it out.”

“Are you suicidal?” Bill yelled back to Alice just as a big wave came and almost knocked him out of the boat. Once he righted himself, he finished furling the mainsail and started dousing the jib. “That’s it, we’re heading in before we both perish.”

“But what a dramatic way that would be to go,” she yelled, a maniacal smile contorting her face, right before another big wave capsized the boat.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie’s First Line Friday prompt. Image credit: Pop Inc – CSA Images.

MLMM Tale Weaver — Welcome to Durfur

img_1350Carl was sitting on a folding chair in a large room with many identical folding chairs, nearly every one taken. In his hand was a spiral bound booklet entitled, The Book of Durfur — A Beginners Guide. Oddly, the first thought that came to Carl’s mind was, “Shouldn’t it be Beginner’s Guide?” He vowed to point out the grammatical error to whoever produced the booklet.

Looking around, Carl saw a diverse group of people seated in the chairs. All ages, all races, both genders, and, based upon how people were dressed, many nationalities. All of them, like Carl, were holding the same booklet.

Carl tried to remember how he had gotten here, much less why he was here. But he couldn’t. His last memory was that he was lying in bed reading a book. Was he asleep and was this a dream?

He turned to the guy sitting on his left, a large black man dressed in some sort of ceremonial garb. “Excuse me,” Carl said. “Do you know where we are and why we’re here?”

“You tell me,” the guy said without making eye contact.

Sitting on Carl’s right was a teenage girl wearing what looked like a prom dress. But before Carl could say anything, she blurted out, “No, I don’t.”

Carl looked once again at the booklet in his hand. He flipped it open to the first page, but it was blank, as were all the pages following. He tried to stand up but was unable to leave his seat. “What the fuck?” he said aloud.

Suddenly the lights dimmed in the room, a screen slowly dropped down from the ceiling, and a video started playing. “Welcome to Durfur,” the man in the video said. “I know you have a lot of questions and they will all be answered shortly.”

The man in the screen smiled and continued. “Durfur is like a way station. It is situated halfway between what was and what will be, between where you’ve been and where you’re going. Each of you has been provided with a booklet that has been custom tailored for your journey. ”

The man in the screen seemed to look directly at Carl and said, “And, yes, Carl, we’ve corrected the punctuation.” Carl looked down and the booklet in his hand, which now read “A Beginner’s Guide.”

The man continued. “Some of you will be here in Durfur for just a brief time. Others may be staying with us for a while. It’s all documented in your guide booklet. Now if you’ll please open up to page one, everything will become clear to you.”

Carl opened up his booklet and began reading.

Written for this week’s Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver prompt.

MLMM Photo Challenge — Failure To Communicate

DE1CA96C-3864-4255-A0DB-7BF5F05BE382“What we’ve got here is a failure to communicate,” Aaron said as he reached up with a pair of scissors and attempted to cut the cord that his parents were using in their vain attempt to communicate with one another.

Aaron was cursed with this recurring dream ever since his parents got divorced. The three of them were in the water of a shallow lake. His parents were sitting on wooden chairs facing in opposite directions. He was in between them, crouched down inside a wooden barrel. They were holding tin cans next to their ears with a piece of rope connecting the cans. It reminded him of a walkie-talkie experiment that he and his friends tried when he was younger. It never really worked, but they liked to pretend it did.

Just as Aaron’s parents pretended to be talking with one another. But instead, they were talking to one another, neither listening, both talking, and not really saying much at all.

Aaron believed that his parents’ break up was his fault, that he was responsible for cutting the lines of communications between the two of them, just as he was doing in the dream. But that, of course, was not the reality.

Aaron tried to postpone falling asleep each night, but when sleep finally overtook him, he once again found himself sitting, scissors in hand, in the barrel in the lake between his opposite facing parents.

Written for this week’s Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge. Photo credit: Nicolas Bruno.

MLMM Sunday Writing Prompt — It’s Not You

F4CF48E4-6D39-42F5-83A1-9F212E278ADB“It’s not you,” I said. “It’s me.”

Of course, I was lying. It was her. All her. She was suffocating me. If she even thought I was looking for an instant too long at another woman, it was grounds for a dirty look and a cold shoulder. What did she expect me to do, wear blinders? I’m not a race horse, for crissake. Although someone once told me I was hung like a horse. But that’s a story for another time.

It’s really too bad, though. She’s very pretty and she has a great bod. And those eyes. Oh my God, those eyes. You can get lost in her eyes. She’s smart, too. Sharp as a tack, you know. Never misses a trick, that woman.

I just don’t get why she’s so damn insecure. She’s more of a catch than I am, for crissake. Any guy would be lucky to have her. And yet she chose me.

But I can’t deal with this yoke she’s hung around my neck. She’s watching my every move, just waiting to pounce if I smile at female. And don’t even ask how she reacts if she sees me dare to talk with another woman.

So I have no choice but to end things with her. I can’t go through life walking on egg shells or feeling like I’m out standing on thin ice. I just have to tell her. Tonight. You know, tear off the bandage quickly. It will hurt, but once it’s done, it’s done.

“We need to talk,” I said to her. “I’m breaking up with you. But it’s not you. It’s me.”

“Oh thank God,” she said. “I’m so relieved you said that. Now I don’t have to be the one to break things off. And you’re right, it is you. You’re not ready for a committed relationship. And you’re not the man I thought you were. But don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll find someone who will be perfect for you. Bye.”

Wait! What?

Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt. We’re supposed to write about a breakup. And yes, I know today is Monday. So once again, I’m a day late and a dollar short.