It’s past time for another quick tale in response to GirlieOnThe Edge’s Six Sentence Story, where the prompt was FLUID. My mind has been working on this for a couple of days, but my hands have been working with bedding plants. 🙂
“Oil, transmission fluid, brake fluid, shocks, brake pads, you name it, our new diagnostic robot –we call him Slicker– checks them all, faster and more accurately than a human mechanic.”
Keylie winced when she saw the total of her bill for the service, but the Lube-Tube manager had a ready response: “We had to lay out big bucks for a diagnostic robots like Slicker here, but with his smarts your engine will purr like a kitten now and run well for another fifty thousand kliks –guaranteed.”
Twenty minutes later Keylie was heading into an intersection on a green light when a driver speeding in from her left didn’t stop for his red light and his car T-boned hers. All traffic stopped as she and the other driver surveyed the damage.
As she watched her car’s precious fluids pooling on the pavement around her crunched front wheel, she dialed Lube-Tube. When the manager answered, she said, “About that guarantee…”
The Ragtag Daily Prompt yesterday was CHAMBER. I had a few thoughts lined up on that subject, but didn’t get them down. Today’s prompt is CRUMBLE; maybe I can combine the two.
Chambre is the French word for room, which is where we got it. According to my book on word etymology CHAMBRE + CHAMBER are derived from the Greek word kamara, which meant something with an arched cover or a room with a vaulted roof. This entered Latin as camara, which in turn slipped into English as CAMERA and brought its cousin COMRADE, which originally referred to someone sharing a room. The Germans did their part, too, in contributing to the diversity of English. The Greek kamara became the Frankish word kamerling, which hopped across the Channel, morphing into chamberlain en route and, in England, reshaped itself into a chimney.
Though the ancient Greek and Roman worlds have crumbled over time, linguistic bricks have been scattered far and wide, gathered up, and cemented into many other languages.
The word CHAMBER immediately reminded me of that old nursery rhyme, Goosey Goosey Gander. According to Wikipedia, the earliest recorded version of this rhyme was published in a London nursery rhyme book in 1784 and there have been several additions through the years. In keeping with today’s prompt, I’ll add a new verse to the story myself:
Goosey goosey gander wither shall I wander upstairs and downstairs and in my lady’s chamber.
And did you check the kitchen, too my pretty roaming goosey? Oh yes! I found the pastry cook, where lovely little Lucy was in the midst of mixing up a dish of apple crumble and when I tipped it on the floor you should have heard her grumble!
Snazzy loops and curls
decorate the railing.“Solid oak door.” He raps the wood.
“Don’t make ‘em like this anymore.”
Bolts loose cement shabby paint flaking.
“A grand old house,
needs some work.
Priced to sell.”
Hubby thinks we can afford it,
someday do a bit of reno.
The realtor smiles.
“Let’s go inside.”
Here are a couple of my own micro-poems — the first one mainly for lovers of big words:
What is this new word fletcherize?
It brings no vision to my eyes;
its purpose I can’t crystalize;
all sense of rhythm it defies.
A word that is so obdurate,
with sounds that cannot resonate
a poet true will obviate
for fear it would obfuscate.
(Fletcherize, a word given as a writing prompt one day, means to reduce (food) to tiny particles, especially by prolonged chewing.)
The real jewels in this world
Aren't found midst piles of gold;
They're found in friendship's sparkling eyes
Where love and warmth enfold.
The Ragtag Daily Prompt word for today is CONCRETE. I’ve probably posted this story before, but the wordplay is so suitable for this prompt. This scene took place somewhere in England, back in the 1950s — when it was still possible to give a child a cuff on the ear for misbehaving.
LOVE THE CHILD
A professional psychologist was constantly admonishing parents to “Love the child.” An expert in his field, the doctor encouraged all his clients and his neighbors as well: “Children need to be shown love and kindness.”
One day the doctor had a new concrete pathway poured in his back yard. A few minutes later he looked out and saw a neighbor boy slopping through the wet concrete. He rushed out, grabbed the boy, and was about to give him a cuff on the ear when a neighbor woman saw what was about to happen. She quickly shouted out her window, “Remember what you always say, Doctor. LOVE the child.”
“To which he replied, “I DO love him, madam — in the abstract. But I DON’T love him in the concrete!”