Prompt for Week #50 (Aug 8, 2020 – Aug 14, 2020): Gratitude
First off, I’m grateful that my internet issues this morning were indeed just a blip and are now resolved. 🙂 And now for my mini-tale response:
“Grateful? Sure I am. But still…”
This was inspired by a wise friend who told me years ago that when you’re making an apology or discussing something, as soon as you say the word “But,” you’re going in the opposite direction.
Just think how many long-winded arguments start out with…
“I do agree with you, but…”
Since this prompt was my suggestion,
I’ll offer this pastoral little verse to go with it.
Hendrick the Hereford rests in the shade
having fulfilled his duties;
all summer long life was a song
romancing bovine beauties.
Now it’s fall and he feels the call
to loaf in the dappled dale,
munch his way through a bale of hay
and swat pesky flies with his tail.
Here I am, back to do my duties for the Sunday Ragtag Daily Prompt, and today the word is ICE CREAM.
I picked this prompt a few weeks back when I thought the weather would be pretty hot, but we’ve had about the coolest summer I can remember here on the prairies. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little tale.
THE NEW DIET PLAN
One evening Abby dropped in to visit her friend and noticed an unusual poster on the wall. “Hey, Terri, I see you have a new poster. But what’s with the chicken and ice cream cone?”
“It’s a great new diet plan. It’s called the ‘Death By Association Diet.’ You know how much I love ice cream, right? So the idea is, I look at this poster everyday and think of a chicken pecking at an ice cream cone. Then, by association, whenever I’m hungry for ice cream I’ll think of a chicken messing in it. That will kill my craving for ice cream.”
“Well… I guess that is a new approach to dieting.”
“So what do you think? Should work, shouldn’t it?”
Abby considered the poster a moment before answering. “I think it’s making me hungry. Why don’t we get some nuggets and fries at Chick-Fill-Eh?, then stop for dessert at Dairy Duchess.”
“Sorry I asked! You just fried my new diet plan,” Terri exclaimed, ripping the poster off the wall. “Now I’ll never get that association out of my mind.”
Our roving reporter writes:
“Due to the COVID virus, hordes of people are no longer visiting the zoo. Management has done a number of LAYOFFS to cut back expenses during this time. The monkeys, they say, are bored stiff with no one to entertain, whereas being unemployed seems to suit some creatures quite well.”
It’s time for another Crimson’s Creative Challenge
Every Wednesday she posts a photo (the one below) and bloggers can respond with something CREATIVE:
An answering photo
A short story (flash fiction)
A newly minted proverb, adage or saying
A song—the lyrics or the performance
She gives only two criteria:
Your creative offering is indeed yours
Your writing is kept to 150 words or less
I’ve read various reports lately about statues coming down because of their association with past evil. While I understand this principle and don’t find fault with it, I recall what a wise man often told his children back in the early 1900s. Once people get started, will they know where to stop? Which gave the “seed” for this tale:
Another One Comes Down
“Here by this door,” Alix pointed. “Great place for another charge.”
Tonya eyed the structure. “Isn’t this overdoing things? I mean…”
“No way! These temples of opulent indulgence were built on the suffering of starving peasants, slaving to pay crushing rent to greedy lords. And think of all the wars plotted here…the blood shed to defend this place.”
“True. But still…the tourist revenue.”
“Money has triumphed over human rights too long,” Alix declared. “Just think of the debauchery that went on behind these walls. Lecherous nobs forcing themselves on helpless servant girls; wives enduring philandering husbands; unwanted babies hustled away to a nunnery; thousands of daughters pressured into wretched marriages to forge political alliances. And tourists are worshipping all this evil!”
“Not exactly. It’s the history…”
“Right! All these castles are coming down.”
Tonya shook her head. Didn’t Grandpa always say, “There’s no moderation in the human race”?