MLMM Photo Challenge — Perspective

A1F11D05-638A-4FD1-B492-492950D4C439”Delores, I’m crazy about you,” Kyle said. “There’s nothing about you I don’t love. In fact, I’m head over heels in love with you.”

“I feel the same way about you, Kyle,” Delores said. “But from my perspective, at the moment you’re actually heels over head in love with me.”


Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge. Photo credit: Google.

MLMM Photo Challenge — Read Me; See Me

CreativeHe went to the blogger’s contact page, typed in his name, his email address, and his blog’s URL. Then he entered his comment:

I am in love with you. I am mesmerized by your words, your verbs, your nouns, your adjectives, and even your adverbs. Your grammar, punctuation, and usage are exquisite. Your every sentence is so well conceived and constructed, you paragraphs are riveting. Your writer’s voice is exquisite. I image you to be a vision of pure beauty and elegance. I must meet you. Tell me where you live. I will drive, sail, or fly to you, but I cannot go on much longer without being touched by the real, physical you as I have been touched by the abstract, metaphysical, cyber you. I eagerly await your response.

The response came back a few days later:

Thank you for reaching out to me. I was truly touched by your message. But you need to understand that I am not who you believe me to be. I, like you, am merely a blogger who marvels at the majesty of words. But in reality, I am invisible. You have painted an image of me that uses only the metaphoric ink I have poured onto the symbolic pages of my blog. My writing has allowed you to create an ink blot of my visage that can be seen only by your mind’s eye. I am to you who I want you to imagine me to be. So, knowing the impossibility of being able to live up to who you wish me to be, I must decline your request to meet in the real world.

His disappointment upon receiving the response was immense. He would not give up and wrote back:

You are not invisible to me. I see you clearly and I am smitten. Your words show me who you really are, a warm, tender, sensitive, emotive, empathetic individual who has cast a spell upon me, one that can only be broken by meeting the you who exists in the physical world. You have taken my heart and I beg you to not deny me the opportunity to complete the portrait of the person your words have outlined.

A few days later, another email response arrived:

Okay listen up, dude. I know I have a way with words, but let me be real with you. I’m actually a 48 year old, 400 pound guy sitting on my bed in my mother’s basement in her house in New Jersey. So if you still wanna meet me in the real world, sure. We can meet at Newark Airport on the second Tuesday of next week.

The guy from New Jersey was shocked when he got this response:

Works for me. How about this coming Tuesday in Terminal C.


Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge. Photo credit: Origin Eight.

MLMM Photo Challenge — Come Hither

8272cea8-1bdc-4e53-af78-2826bb665928I stopped short when I saw her sitting on the steps leading up to the brownstone in which I had an apartment. She was looking up at me, her head slightly tilted, her large, expressive eyes staring, and her red Mona Lisa-like lips smiling. She was stunningly beautiful and I was mesmerized.

She was sitting there, learning slightly forward, with her arms resting on her knees and her feet arched in such a way that exposed most of her shapely legs. I’m almost ashamed to tell you that I wondered whether or not she was wearing panties, and the thought that she might not be was arousing.

She continued to look at me with a sort of come hither expression on her face, inviting me to engage with her. I finally gathered myself. “Is there something I can help you with, miss?” I asked.

“I’m waiting for someone,” she said.

“I know everyone who lives in this building,” I said. “Perhaps if you give me the name of the person you’re waiting for, I can be of some assistance.”

She smiled and said, “Do you like what you see?” Then she shifted her position slightly and in such a way that allowed me to confirm that she was, indeed, not wearing panties.

“Are you a lady of the night?” I asked.

She laughed. “You never answered my question,” she said.

“What question was that?” I asked.

“Do you like what you see?” she repeated.

“And you never answered my question,” I said. “Who are you waiting for?”

“Maybe I’m waiting for you,” she said, a sensual smile gracing her face. She stood up and slowly walked down a few steps until she was standing right in front of me. She took another step forward, reached her arms up and flung them around my neck. She pressed herself tight against me, the smell her perfume was intoxicating. She stood up on her tiptoes and moved her mouth toward mine. She pressed her soft, warm, moist lips up against mine and pushed her tongue into my mouth. I felt almost faint and had to lean against her for support.

She pulled her head back, smiled up at me, and said, “Dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes, honey, but if you’re in the mood, maybe we can have a quickie before we eat.”

“Oh, I’m so in the mood,” I said to my wife, lifting her up in my arms and carrying her up the steps and into our apartment.


Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge. Photo credit: Unexpected Tales.

Photo Challenge — Life Imitates Art

DFE95346-FB4C-46E3-929C-0F289608AC19I had dozed for a few minutes, the rhythm of the swaying bus getting the best of my tired eyes. An abrupt stop, followed by a blaring horn, woke me up. When I opened my eyes and looked across the aisle, I saw a vision, a living Mona Lisa.

I blinked and rubbed my eyes, but she was still there, staring at me with her Mona Lisa smile, her right hand resting on her left, just like the pose in the da Vinci portrait.

I realized that I couldn’t not say something to this personification of one of the world’s greatest work of art. “Excuse me,” I said. “Are you an model?” I asked.

“No,” she said, maintaining her slight smile. “I’m a nurse.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you look just like the woman in the da Vinci masterpiece,” I said.

“Yes, I get that a lot,” she admitted.

“Do you intentionally dress that way, wear your hair that way, sit that way, and smile that way,” I asked.

“No, of course not,” she said. “This is just who I am, how I dress, how I sit, and how I look.”

The guy in the seat next to her got off the bus at the next stop and I moved over and sat next to her. “My name is Leo,” I said.

“Hi Leo, I’m Mona,” she said, holding out her right hand for me to shake.

“Mona?” I said. “Seriously, your name is Mona? What’s next? Are you going to tell me you’re last name is Lisa?”

“Oh no,” she said. “My last name is Schaefer. Lisa is my middle name.”

“Get out,” I said. “Your name is Mona Lisa Schaefer?”

“Yes,” she said. “And you are?”

“I told you, my name is Leo.”

“Leo who?” she asked.

“Leo Vincenti”

“And what do you do, Leo Vincenti?”

“I’m a painter.”

“As in houses?”

“No, as in portraits,” I answered. “In fact, I’d like to paint your portrait, Mona. You have a classic, timeless look.” I pulled out my sketch pad and a piece of charcoal and quickly sketched her. When I was done, I held it up to showed it to her.

“Oh, this is my stop,” she said, and hurriedly got off the bus.E0FB8DF3-1F77-45B4-ACE8-2EDEC74A7B3F.jpeg


Written for this week’s Photo Challenge from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie. Photo credit: Reddit.com. Drawing credit: Pinterest

Photo Challenge — The World in the Palm of Your Hand

761611FB-1885-4170-9F54-AA25893563F9“I’ve never seen anything like this,” the waitress said. “This is remarkable.”

At 22, Darlene was at a crossroad in her young life. She had just graduated from college with a philosophy degree, but had so far been unable to get a job. Her parents had paid for undergraduate school, but told her that, going forward, she was on her own. So now she had to figure out what to do next.

And so Darlene entered the Psychic Café. She heard that all of the servers were fortune tellers who could, if you wanted them to, interpret your tea leaves, read your palm, or even sit at the table across from you with a crystal ball. So why not give it a shot? What did she have to lose?

“What do you mean that you’ve never seen anything like this?” Darlene asked.

Sitting across the table from Darlene, the waitress reached over and grabbed Darlene’s hand. She asked Darlene to open her fist and said, “Darlene, you have the world in the palm of your hand. I know you’re grappling with what to do next in your life, but it doesn’t matter. You will live a charmed life and become an extremely accomplished woman. I see in your palm that you will move heaven and Earth in an amazing way. You are virtually limitless.”

“Really?” Darlene said. “You see all that in my palm? That is remarkable. Oh my God, I can’t thank you enough. You have given me the confidence to keep going. How can I ever repay you?”

The waitress wrote something on her order pad, ripped off the top sheet, folded in in half, and handed it to Darlene before leaving the table.

Darlene opened the check and gasped. It read

  • Cup of Coffee…………………………$3.00
  • Psychic Palm Reading…………..$50.00

Written for this week’s Photo Challenge from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie. Photo credit: Art Universe @ Instagram.