Happy Returns?

It’s Monday morning again — the return of the workday week. And I’m back with another belated blog post. This is in response to Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt, and I’m giving you two for one. the first I wrote last night — when it still was the weekend –and the second this morning, when I decided on something more upbeat. You can tell me which you like best.

Back to Square One?

I think, Ramon, we’d better return to our former relationship.

I don’t get it. Like “just friends”?

Like “total strangers.”

So…like…you don’t want to marry me after all?

Got it!

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Some, more ready to trust, alight
as soon as I’ve walked away;
some timid, slower to return.
Still, a rousing chorus
greets me when I appear
with my bag of birdseed.

Image by Gordon Johnson — Pixabay

A Six-Word Argument

Welcome to Week #50 of the Saturday Six Word Story Prompt.
Click here to read the guidelines for the Saturday Six Word Story Prompt series.

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…”

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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…”

Nothing Much To Do

The Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning ZILCH

Going through some of my files, I came across a flash–fiction tale I wrote about Harv & Bert.  I decided to do a second story with these two old-timers. I’ll call this one…

Harv and Shamus

When Bert heard the double-rap on the door of his cottage soon after breakfast, he knew it’d be his friend Harv. That was their signal.

“Morning, Harv,” he said as he opened the door. “I expected you’d be along soon. You’ll be wantin’ a cuppa tea after your long walk.”

Harv entered Bert’s kitchen, followed by his dog, Shamus. “Thanks much, Bert. Shamus doesn’t let me sleep in when he wants his morning stroll. And I guess it’s good for me to get moving.”

Bert patted the spaniel. “You’re a good dog, gettin’ the old guy outta bed bright and early. He needs it.” He turned to his friend. “Sometimes I think I should get a dog, too. But I’m a slow starter in the morning — don’t know if I really wanna get rousted out at 7:00 in the morning to walk a dog.”

Harv chuckled. “No, you still need your beauty sleep. There’s no hope for me anymore, so I might as well be up.” He suspected Bert was too easily irritated to be a very good dog owner, but he kept these thoughts to himself. Bert was his friend, even if he was rather crotchety.

“Got anything special planned for today, Bert? Doctor’s appointment…or maybe lunch with some rich widow?”

“No hope there. No, I have zilch planned for today. ‘Course I’ll have a quick look through the paper, but with the news these days it doesn’t do a person’s blood pressure any good to read the whole story. Back when I was young there was none of this protesting and tearing things down. Everybody minded his own business and behaved himself.” He handed Harv a cup of tea. “Crooks are getting off too…”

“Well, I’ve heard some good news! I got a letter from my daughter yesterday; she and her family made it to Australia safe and sound and are enjoying their time in Sydney.”

“Glad to hear it. That’ll set your mind at ease. Though why in the world they’d want to go there for is beyond me. I’d rather go to England myself. See the old country; look up some relatives. If there are any still alive.”

sydney-4264195_640
Image by Squirrel_Photos  at Pixabay

“And will you look at this.” Harv pulled a post card from his jacket pocket. “She sent a picture of the Sydney Opera House. Ain’t it a marvel?”

Bert studied the card for a moment. “The power bill for that place would probably give you heart failure.”

Harv frowned. “Maybe, but I’m not payin’ it, so they can do what they like. She says this place draws thousands of tourists every day, and it looks so pretty all lit up at night.”

“Wonder whose idea it was to build it with all them loops? Must be hard to heat in winter.”

“They don’t have the winters we do, so heating costs maybe aren’t so high. And you know, young designers are always wanting to try something different. See if it’ll work.” Harv slipped a dog biscuit out of his pocket and gave it to Shamus.

“All these fancy twisted new buildings. Give me a solid four-square building any day.” Bert handed the card back to Harv. “When we were young, plain and simple was…”

“That’s a great idea. How be I come back this afternoon and we head downtown, look at some of the old places, then stop for pie and coffee at the diner. I got nothin’ else up today myself.” Harv stood up and whistled to Shamus.

“Sounds good. I’ll be waiting.”

A few minutes later, Harv was taking in all the sights and sounds of the morning as he and Shamus walked home. He thought about Bert, then leaned over to pat his dog. “Just think what sort of a rut I might be stuck in if I didn’t have you to get me up and going every day, old pal. Good ol’ Shamus.”

The Path Ahead

Good morning everyone. A rainy day here on the prairie and we’re welcoming the moisture.

I wonder how many of you readers remember that Certs ad of long ago, where two young ladies are debating:
“Certs is a candy mint!”
“Certs is a breath mint!”
And the announcer says, “Stop! You’re both right. New Certs is two, two, two mints in one.”
According to Wiki, Certs was introduced in 1956 and heavily advertised this way on American television in the ’60s and ’70s.
And most of you won’t give two, two, two hoots about this. 🙂

What brought this on? I’m doing two writing challenges this morning:
The Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning is: THE PATH AHEAD
And Sammi’s Weekend Writing Challenge calls for a 23-word response including the word KALEIDOSCOPE. Here’s her logo:

And here’s my diminutive response to both:

A kaleidoscope of summer tones
on the path ahead,
the trilling of songbirds,
wraps her in its unique condolence.
He wasn’t coming back.