SoCS — Hollowed Out

I thought we completed each other.
I thought we made each other whole.
I thought we two were one.

4B394077-F0D7-4CF3-B9A2-7C2EECBD9A9EBut then you plunged that dagger deep into my heart.
You doused my light.
You ripped out my soul.
You soured my spirit.

I am now an empty, hollow shell of the man I once was.

The man who only wanted to fill your soul with hope.

But who now only wants to fill your hole with soap.

Written for today’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt from Linda G. Hill. We are to use “empty” and/or “hollow” in our posts.

SoCS — On the Farm

So Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt this week asks us to find a word (or words) that has a farm animal sound in it and use it in our posts. Okay, that’s a little weird, but here goes.

21EB1C33-C650-4BB8-A781-64705104F899“I came over as soon as I got your tweet,” Monica said. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, Monica,” Tom said. “I had the strangest encounter with my new neighbor today.”

“I take it things didn’t go smoothly.”

“Not really,” Tom answered. “The guy was kind of gruff, actually. When he first introduced himself, he seemed normal. But then he started growling and snorting and squeaking in a most peculiar way. I couldn’t figure out what he was saying. It sounded like a bunch of gobbledegook to me.”

“That person sounds like he’s a real quackpot,” Monica said. “So what did you do?”

“Well,” said Tom, “I was getting kinda pissed, so I boinked him right on his nose. Honestly, I didn’t hit him that hard, but he fell to the ground and was out cold. I swear to God, Monica, I thought the guy had croaked.”

“Oh, Tom, that’s awful,” Monica clucked, a look of concern on her face.

“But then he stood up and shook my hand,” Tom said. “And he said it was nice to have met me and invited me over for dinner with him and his wife tomorrow night.”

“Seriously? What did you say?”

“I said ‘baa humbug’ to that, turned around, and walked away from that crazy old hoot.”

SoCS — The Handwriting is on the Wall

BF1EF888-67D8-4F09-B8D7-9C4DDDE06F0CToday’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt from Linda G. Hill asks us to use the word “letter” in our post or to theme our post on any meaning of that word.

The first thing that came to mind for me was last month’s A to Z Challenge, for which I posted 26 times, one post for each letter of the alphabet.

Next, I thought about the phrase “the letter of the law” and how are current president has seemed quite willing to flout it nearly every day since he was sworn into office almost a year and a half ago.

And then I thought about a line from the song “The Letter” by the Box Tops, with a cover by Joe Cocker, that goes, “My baby, just-a wrote me a letter.”

And that made me wonder about the last time I actually sat down and wrote anyone a handwritten letter. I can’t remember. Maybe not in this century.

I don’t often write in longhand (i.e., cursive) anymore, primarily because my handwriting is not very legible. Even to me. So on those extremely rare occasions when I need to send someone a physical letter — when an email or a text message just won’t do — I sit at my computer, compose the letter, print it out, sign it, fold the paper, stick it in an envelope, affix postage to the envelope, and take it to the post office.

Because, if I’m going to go through all of that trouble to “write” someone a letter, I sure as shit want them to be able to read it.

SoCS — Y is for Yikes

25986621-DDEE-4EBE-A7F4-6A6A4D3B579AWhy would Linda do this? For her Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, Linda G. Hill asked us to write a post about “Why/Y.” The post should be based upon a word that starts with “Y.” We can earn bonus points if we start or end the post with “Why.”

Linda, Linda, Linda. I know that you’re participating in this month’s A to Z Challenge, albeit unofficially. So you know that today is the letter “Y” day for that challenge. So what do you do? You ask us to write yet another post based upon a word that starts with that same letter.

Yikes! Now I have to conjure up another Y-word. Why would you do this, Linda? Why?

SoCS — Broken Spokes

A3B8ED00-955C-4CE4-A24C-985D07B4E7BB“Why are you so damn angry?” Chris asked his bicycle mechanic.

“For crissake, Chris. I just spoke to you about this on Thursday, didn’t I?” Ari answered. “I told you that you needed to check out all the spokes on your wheels before taking that trail ride.”

“Well, why didn’t you inspect them when I was here on Thursday?” Chris asked.

“Oh come on, Chris,” Ari said. “I did offer to do that, but I couldn’t do it immediately. I told you I’d get to it first thing Friday morning, but you said you couldn’t leave your bike with me and then you never showed up at all on Friday.”

“Can you fix it, Ari?” Chris asked.

“Seriously? Look at your wheel rim, dude. It’s totally mangled and there’s barely a single unbroken spoke,” Ari said. “I’m going to have to order a new wheel.”

“That really sucks,” Chris said.

“Yeah, it does, dude,” Ari said. “A new alloy wheel will run about sixty bucks. Plus another 15 to 20 to tighten the spokes and true the wheel.”

“Holy shit. Is that the best you can do?” Chris asked.

Ari shook his head. “If you’d only listened when we spoke on Thursday, I would have tightened and tune your spokes in both wheels for free first thing Friday morning.”

Ari felt kinda bad for Chris, even though he knew it was Chris’ fault. “Look, dude, when I get the new wheel in, I’ll give you a call and teach you how to tighten your spokes and true your wheel.”

“Thanks, Ari,” Chris said. “You’re a good man.”

“Fine, dude,” Ari said. “But just try listening to me next time, okay?”

Written for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt from Linda G. Hill. The challenge is to use the word “spoke” somewhere, in some form, in your post.