The Art of Mooching

Here’s my response to this week’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge #41. You’ll find this HERE at Crispina’s blog, and see what others have written as a response to the photo prompt below.

https://crimsonprose.files.wordpress.com/2019/08/2-geese.jpg

Mooching Know – How

“Your approach is all wrong, Frizzy. If you hope to get anything from these park tourists, you gotta look like you haven’t eaten for awhile. Flatten those feathers — and please suck in that paunch. An undercarriage like that makes you look positively plump. Last thing you want is to look ready for the platter if the caretaker’s wife comes around.

Ah… Here comes another bunch…bringing popcorn! We’ll eat well if we just hang around this parking lot and look needy. Honk like you barely have the strength. Limp a bit, but don’t overdo it. Lame birds tend to land up in the soup pot.

Watch your toes with those little ones tramping around or you may be limping for real. And whatever you do, don’t let them get their hands around your neck. They love doing that. They may be a miniature variety, but they can be wild.

Young At Heart

Funny Hat Woman

Her face has aged to eighty
but her spirit’s still eighteen;
wrinkles may line her forehead
but the mind beneath is keen.

Her feet at times get weary;
her hands don’t always obey,
but in her heart she’s ready
to frolic the night away.

Victims of Peace

It’s time for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by the gentle and long-suffering Rochelle-Wisoff Fields. And today Sandra Cook, who blogs at castellsarrasin has offered the photo prompt, hoping it will get our creative juices flowing.

My response this week comes from a rather unusual source. Lately I’ve been contemplating one line from a 60’s song:  (House of the Rising Sun)
“I’ve got one foot on the Platform and one foot on the train…”

So which way will this person go? There’s probably a zillion ways a writer could portray this “point of decision” scenario, but I’ve come up with this one. Sorry, no chuckles today.

Ilisius tightened the backpack straps and showed Nakala the cord. “A good hard tug will set off the charge. Mix with the tourists; get into the Council chamber if possible. Take out as many as you can.”

Nakala’s voice trembled. “They say they want peace.”

Ilisuis snorted. “Peace! Never peace nor justice while these fiends rule. We must destroy them. Whenever, wherever.”

Later on the balcony with other tourists Nakala watched the councillors below discussing funding for a zoo. Two children nearby grinned at her, their eyes sparkling.

“The victims of peace,” she acknowledged as her fingers worried the fraying cord.