Trick or Treat

Posted on October 31, 2024 by hdh

Today’s writing prompt was – overabundance or too much.

Trick or Treat

It was early October. Meg and her husband, Wally, better known as Doctor Wally to his dental patients, sat around the breakfast table, having a discussion.

“You know,” Meg started, “Halloween is just around the corner; maybe it’s time to stock up on some Halloween treats for this year.”

“What!” was Wally’s reply. “It’s practically a month away. We never get many kids here. Why would we want to stock up now?”

“Because that’s when all the candy sales are. We should get a couple of bags before it’s too late.”

Wally said, “Why? My toothbrushes and toothpaste treats aren’t enough?”

Meg quickly replied, “Your toothpaste and toothbrushes may be why we don’t get many visitors on Halloween. I say we go with candy this year.”

“But, then we have to contend with peanut allergies and the like. Who knows what to choose?”

“Leave the candy to me. Now, what costumes do you think we should wear this year?”

Wally responded as if he already had planned that part out. “This year, we’ll dress up as pirates. We can take that old trunk we have that is full of old clothes we’ll never wear, empty it, and donate all the clothes to the church. We can put the candy, or whatever we have, in the trunk and have the kids pick out what they want.”

Meg liked that idea. First, she would finally get rid of all the old clothes that he’d been hanging on to, and second, whether he realized it or not, he had agreed to have some candy instead of dental supplies. She told him, “Okay, you empty the trunk, and I’ll get the candy.”

October, as any month will do, moved on. By the time Halloween came around, everything was in place. The old clothes were stacked where the trunk had been. Meg had purchased one bag of Fun Sized Snickers bars and one bag of pretzel packages. There should have been enough for about 15 kids, which would be twice as much as usually was distributed. All was prepared by the front door. 

The temperature was a little cool, but the weather was good for trick-or-treating. Meg and Wally dressed in pirate outfits and makeup and awaited their visitors. 

The number of children coming to their door for treats varied. The older kids loved the outfits Meg and Wally wore and were okay with the choice of treats. The very young kids were too frightened by the pirate costumes to stay long enough to venture up to the trunk, fearing the pirates might kidnap them and got nothing. 

As a whole, Meg and Wally got rid of about one-half of their booty. 

Before going to bed, Meg asked, “What should we do with all of the leftover candy?”

“Don’t worry,” Wally answered, “I’ll take care of it.”

 

After Wally went to work the following day, Meg noticed the leftover candy was gone. “What did he do with it?” she thought. She went into the room where the trunk was stored. The trunk was there, but the clothes weren’t. “Could Wally have put all the old clothes back in the trunk?” She was surprised that the trunk was locked as it had never been before. This wasn’t normal. She went to the basement and found three filled garbage bags that hadn’t been there the day before. Opening each one up, she found them stuffed with the trunk’s old clothes. That eliminated the possibility that Wally had stuffed his old clothes in the trunk.

So, what was so valuable that it had to be locked up? She had to find out.

Grabbing a screwdriver and a claw hammer, she returned to the trunk. The trunk was so old that it took little effort to pry the locked clasp off and open it. What she saw both shocked and amazed her.  Wally was in for a big surprise that night.

 

Meg waited until Wally came home, and it was time for supper. Sitting at the table, he asked, “What’s for supper?”

In a very sweet voice, Meg replied, “Well, since you were so cooperative with the Halloween plans last night, I thought I would serve you your favorite food tonight.” So saying, she placed a covered casserole dish before his place. 

With much anticipation, he lifted the cover to see what Meg had made. His eyes opened wide at what he saw.  Meg raised her eyes and simply said, “Surprise.”

 On the platter were four Twix bars, three full-sized Almond Joys, five full-sized packages of peanut M&Ms, a bag containing packages of Skittles, an assortment of Gummy bears and tootsie roll pops, and the leftover candy from Halloween. 

 

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The Night is Upon Us

Posted on October 27, 2024 by hdh

This week’s writing prompt was, “Tell us what you feel like just before you fall asleep and then right after you wake up.”

The Night is Upon Us

It’s time for bed. Time for my nightly ritual. The first step is to take out my “Last Thoughts” notebook and write about what I’m thinking. It might be an event that happened today, or what Christina and I did, a class or workshop I had or have to prepare for tomorrow, some interesting quote I heard that I need to write down, a conversation with David or a neighbor, or just pondering about things going on in the world. I keep it short, no more than 2 or 3 sentences. Some weeks I choose to make each entry for that week only a 6-word sentence. I love a challenge.

Once written, I get ready—teeth brushed, meds taken, PJs on, dealing with whatever I need to set up electronically, like a wake-up alarm or batteries to charge, and then it’s into bed.

What will I read tonight? The book that I’ve been trying to finish? The 76 e-mails I haven’t gotten to yet?  The comics that I subscribe to that I didn’t get to? Oh, that’s right. First, I must set my iPad to reduce white point, so it dims my screen and doesn’t interfere with Christina, who might be trying to sleep. 

Before I shut down, I set my pillow speaker, connected to my iPad, so I can listen to music (again without bothering Christina). The music helps me unfocus. No incessant thoughts rambling through my brain, and even though the tinnitus hiss is ever present, I focus on the music so I can sleep. I set the timer so the music turns off after an hour and a half. Well before that time is up, I’m be asleep.

Of course, that’s when the adventures begin. It’s off to dreamland. In the past few nights, I’ve created a folktale and a mystery. If I were by myself, as soon as I realized I was dreaming, I would get up and write these thoughts down in my writer’s notebook. However, I don’t want to wake Christina, so I continue to follow the paths of dreams in bed to their inevitable non-conclusion. 

When I wake up, I feel refreshed, and on occasion, I remember some of my more vivid dreams. I share some of the sketchy details with Christina. The response usually goes, “You’re so weird. Nobody dreams like that.”

All it takes is a couple of minutes to get out of bed and make it to the bathroom for me to completely forget whatever it was that I had dreamed. Another tale of wisdom down the toilet, so to speak. 

And then I start my day. I do what I do, think what I think, and create whatever needs to be created. 

As night returns upon us, it’s “last thoughts” time, and I repeat the process all over again. 

 

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Sensory Awareness

Posted on October 18, 2024 by hdh

The writing spark for this piece was Sensory Highlights. Here’s is my take on that.

Sensory Awareness

We all have five senses

At least that’s what they say

They tell you in school

You use all every day

Sight for your eyes and your nose handles smell

Your ears let you hear, and your mouth tastes so well

Whole body claims touch. That all. But they lied

I claim there are more. Here’s a list. You decide.

 

There are things to accomplish. There are things you must do.

It’s your sense of purpose that will carry you through.

 

Your house is on fire or you just cut your hand

It’s your sense of urgency. Just don’t sit there and stand

 

There’s a mountain to climb. There’s a river to ford.

It’s your sense of adventure. Go pull that ripcord

 

You are clever and witty. You can tell a good joke.

It’s your good sense of humor. Makes you one happy bloke

 

You fight for what’s right. You protect those in need.

It’s your sense of duty. Such an honorable breed

 

You turn in when due. You catch the last train

It’s your good sense of timing. That’s using your brain.

 

You flow with the music. You clap to the beat

Your good sense of rhythm is always a treat

 

Those are a few – of the senses I share

Though the one we use most,

has become rather rare

For you see it’s quite common,

And here I must tell

It takes thinking, good judgement, to use it quite well

Common Sense’s what they call it.

They are many who choose

Not to use it at all. And for that we might lose.

What we’ve built, what we have, all the freedoms we need

To sustain our existence, all because of their greed

 

So schools hear my warning. Don’t teach our kids wrong

Start with listening and thinking, That shouldn’t take long.

Then the five senses, just to mention a few.

Use them all with each other; get a logical view

Then people can preach, they can put up a fight

But we’ll use learned thought to determine what’s right

“Common sense is not so common,” Voltaire once said.

Time to prove he was wrong, or we’ll all end up  ______.

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Same old, Same old

Posted on October 12, 2024 by hdh

There were a few minutes left in our writing group today, so we were given the prompt “Same old, same old” and had five minutes to write.

Same old, same old

 

Never get rid of it? 

Now that’s just absurd

You just have too much

And that’s my last word.

 

I heard what she said

Though it’s obviously true

Maybe she will forget

If I buy her something new

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Thoughts

Posted on October 12, 2024 by hdh

The writing spark was Everyday Joys. The prompt  I chose was – Write about a character who does not appreciate the good things in their life. What happens? We had 25 minutes. 

Thoughts

Nothing ever goes right!

No matter how hard I try

The faucet just won’t stop dripping

The rain will not water my plants

Water fills the basement

I have no control

Mosquitoes buzz just to taunt me

Bites turn to red, 

They itch

The protection is useless

Now the bread rises

And now it flops

I’ve done nothing different

Things constantly change

This world is a mess

They say my vote counts

I write and post, but who reads?

Why won’t the obvious prevail?

 

Then night comes

Music fills my ears

Dreams demand gratitude

The emptiness begins to lessen

Granules of hope take root

Your wife, your child, your friends

Your nature, your perseverance, your life

You hold the power of change

Though small, it’s within

You find solace

Stay the course

Let worries diminish

Find joy in what you have

 

Just be who you are

Everyday

 

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Watch the Time

Posted on October 9, 2024 by hdh

The writing prompt for this piece was – use a familiar quote or catchphrase. The phrase I used was from a familiar book written by Lewis Carroll. The catchphrase is from the Disney version of that book.

Watch the Time

I pride myself on being punctual. I’m always on time for every appointment and arrive at work at the correct time. There is rarely a day that I don’t leave at the appropriate time. 

I also love technology, though I’m not willing to spend a fortune on the latest gadget. That said, I look for new and exciting things, especially if the price is right. 

This brings me to my recent purchase. 

I owned an old Apple Watch 4. I purchased it refurbished two years after they had already released version 6. It served my needs. It showed the time in many different formats, could count my steps and activity, and even took my pulse and measured my heart rate. 

But the Apple Watch 4 is long gone. The new Apple Watch Hermès Ultra 2 came out with many more bells and whistles. It’s now basically a mini wrist computer that can also tell time. But who wants to spend over $1,400.00 on a frickin’ watch.

I decided to look elsewhere and found this new startup company, Elica’s Wonder of Discounts Land. It had exactly what I wanted…I thought.

It’s called the Jabberclock E. How they came up with such a ridiculous name is beyond me. But the price was right, so I bought it. I wouldn’t dream of spending any more than I did. 

And the things it could do!

The watch never needs winding or recharging. I was told that it would run perpetually for life. (I’m not sure whose life.)

It counts my heartbeats and pulse and measures all of my heart functions, both medical and spiritual. It is also good at measuring my height, though I don’t know how. As I grow or shrink (as one does as one gets older), the numbers change to represent my current size. 

It has an incredible GPS. I can locate any destination I want, even in places I haven’t even heard of, despite the fact that they must exist. Its Find Me app allows me to find myself whenever I get lost. 

Just like the Apple Watch, it measures my sleep and resting time. It records when I’m awake, in core sleep, deep sleep, and REM sleep (that’s the time spent dreaming, not that I dream very much).

The watch also has a prediction and statistics mode, whereby it advises me on what moves to make when I play a game. You have to pay close attention to it in that mode. If you go against its suggestions, it transmits a terrible electric shock to your system, enough to make your head fall off. 

It also has a language translation system. I haven’t quite figured out how to get it to translate languages into English yet. All I get is rhyming gibberish whenever I ask for a translation. It’s not a function I often need so that I can live with. 

Of course, that brings us to the main reason one should buy and wear a watch – to tell time. 

I have to admit with all the wonderful things the watch does, telling time is a major problem. 

I can have multiple faces on the watch, and I can add little notifications and screens that allow me to see everything I’ve described the watch can do. I can even choose between analog and digital, date and day display, and 12 or 24-hour time display. But when it comes to showing the correct time accurately, it never does. No matter how I set the time, it always runs late. If I set the watch to the correct time and know that I have an appointment at a particular time, when I look at the watch close to that time, it can be 35 minutes later. I’ve even tried to fool the watch by setting it 35 minutes earlier than the real time, and again, when I look at the watch close to the time I’m supposed to be somewhere, it is the same 35 minutes late. Even if the time I initially set the watch was two minutes before I had to be there, I’ll still be 35 minutes late.  No matter how important the date is, I’m always late, late, for that very important date.

This was a deal breaker for me. As I said, I pride myself on being punctual, not that I’m OCD about it, but this watch just does not cut it.

I guess you get what you pay for. 

I still have the watch, and I’ll occasionally wear it. However, my go-to timepiece is one that was gifted to me a long time ago, when I was much younger. It’s a watch I can rely on. I know, but bear in mind that it’s just silly old me.

If you’re going to buy a watch, you might as well get one that’s based on a book you’ve read. 

 

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The Meet Up

Posted on October 3, 2024 by hdh

The writing prompt for this piece was – Deadlines

The Meet Up

It was six o’clock at night. We were supposed to meet here at 5:30. Where was she? I knew I was told never to phone her, but what else could I do? I pulled out my phone, dialed her cell, and waited. There was nothing—no ringing, no pick-up, and no voice on the other end. It was a dead line. 

Could something be wrong with my phone? I tried calling my home phone, and it rang. I got my answering machine, so my cellphone obviously worked. 

It was now 6:30. Something was definitely wrong. But what to do? She’d think I had abandoned her if I left here and she came. If I stayed, I wouldn’t be able to prevent anything that might be happening to her. 

I needed help. I couldn’t call her house phone. He would get suspicious, and the last thing either of us wanted was for him to find out about us. 

I could try one of my friends, but who could I trust? My friends weren’t known for keeping secrets. I don’t believe that she confided in any of hers. Besides, I’m not even sure she had any friends.

I decided to leave a note where I was. I took an old receipt from my pocket and on the back of it wrote, “Where were you? Call me.” I left the last four digits of my phone number on the note. I knew she would recognize the four digits.  I left it sticking out from a rock off to the side of the pavement. I needed her to notice the note was from me, so I also left an empty wrapper from a Wriggley’s Doublemint chewing gum pack, which she knew I always carried with me. 

I chose to head toward her house. I had no plan, but I thought that by meandering by her home, I might discover if something was amiss. And it was. The sign on her lawn said – For Sale, and a sticker over the front of it said SOLD. As there were no shades on the windows, I looked through the living room window, I could see that the inside of the house was stripped clean. No one lived there. 

 

———–

 

I was getting too close to him, and I knew it. His feelings for me created a significant dilemma in my assignment. He wasn’t the target. His boss was. Hanley and I had set up the house as our living quarters. I had paired up with Hanley before. We were to be the volatile married couple. I was to get attached to my mark in the hopes that I could gather information on his boss. 

I’ve done this plenty of times before. I wasn’t expecting him to fall for me that quickly. Sources had it that someone had figured out our plan, which would put him in jeopardy. I set up the meet with him to break up, but Hanley didn’t trust the situation. We were ordered to disappear and close down the operation. We had to scrub our plans. That meant clearing the house and disconnecting any phones he might have known about. Make him think that we never existed. 

I was so close to getting the info I needed, but that’s the nature of my job. You have a deadline to accomplish your task; if you don’t meet it, you disappear. There are always other fish to catch.

 

———–

 

I was so close to her. I’m convinced she was falling in love with me. We would run away from her cruel husband, and before it got too serious, I would have been able to get the information on her organization and then disappear. This should have been an easy assignment. I’ve done it before. Someone must have gotten to her. I feel sorry for that, but that’s the nature of my job. I must go back and retrieve my note and disappear myself. I’ve got other fish to catch and deadlines to meet. 

 

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The Birthday Present

Posted on September 28, 2024 by hdh

The writing prompt for this story was – One of your birthday gifts is a magic sweater.

The Birthday Present

It was my twenty-first birthday, and I finally got to vote. What do you mean, they’ve changed the voting age to 18? That’s not fair! Well, at least my family are giving me a special birthday party. 

The party itself was nice. We went to a fancy restaurant, and I was allowed to order a drink. Of course, I got presents when I got home. Most of my family gave me what I wanted, which was cash.   That at least allowed me to get what I really wanted. 

A special gift in the pile differed from all the others. It was wrapped in old newspaper. The date of the newspaper was my birthday—my literal birthday in 1950. It was labeled for me. My mother picked it up and handed it to me. 

She said this gift was from my grandma, who couldn’t be with us today, but told my mother to make sure it was given to me on my 21st birthday.

My grandmother died over 12 years before I was born. How did she…

By that point, my mother had walked away, so I didn’t get a chance to finish my question.

I opened the box containing a plain old, tattered sweater. My mother looked at me from a distance and smiled. She motioned to me to put it on. 

That was very weird, but I put it on. I got this tingly feeling in my body as soon as it was on. My hands began to vibrate. I didn’t know what was happening. Try as I might, my hands wouldn’t stop vibrating. Finally, out of frustration, I just called out, “Hands, stop vibrating.”  And they did. 

Okay,…also weird. 

My mother just smiled and nodded her head. What was going on? 

An idea ran through my head. I said out loud, “This sweater is old. I wish it were new. That would make it useful.” Immediately, the sweater transformed into a new, quite stylish one. 

Could it be? I tried something else: “Sweater, make yourself invisible.” Though I could still see it, the look on the rest of my family’s facial expressions told me they couldn’t.

I walked over to my mom and asked her to explain.

And she did. She told me that the sweater was unique. It was passed on to every other generation’s last-born child on their 21st birthday. This raised a lot of questions.

“But how did Grandma know who that would be before she died and when they would be born?”

My mother didn’t have an answer for that. But she did inform me that it was my job to care for it, use it wisely, and make sure that on my granddaughter’s 21st birthday…

Well, that’s as much as you need to know. Just be aware that I still have this sweater, and there are many things that I can use it for to prevent you from sharing this information if you are inclined to. 

I don’t think you want to test that theory.

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What’s New?

Posted on September 20, 2024 by hdh

What’s new?

So what’s new?

New is learning better eating habits.

New is that book I started that I must finish

New is learning a new language

New is to do something new

 

I asked what’s new.

Not what needs to change.

 

Ah, What needs to change?

What needs to change is the cacophony of noise outside

What needs to change is for people to listen more

What needs to change is the cost of everything

What needs to change is who we are and how we interact with each other

 

Not what needs to change,

What are you doing differently now?

 

Ah, different now.

Pumpkin spice is different from everything else I used to buy

It seems Christmas is an October holiday, so purchasing decorations.

I’m not seeing as many kids around during the day.

There are a lot of signs promoting someone or another on cars and lawns.

 

You’re not listening to me!

What is new in your life?

 

Oh, that. Why didn’t you ask me that in the first place?

Nothing much.

How about you?

What’s new?

 

(Speechless)

However, since this was written on “Talk Like a Pirate Day,” there was one utterance.

ARRGH!

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The Note

Posted on September 14, 2024 by hdh

The writing prompt was: “You’re cleaning out your closet when you see a peculiar note etched into the back of the wall.

The Note

Did I ever tell you that I hate spring cleaning? I hate going through all the clothes that don’t fit society’s norm anymore and clearing out all the dust balls that have accumulated over the winter’s long and tedious sleep. Not fun at all. 

Well, there was that one year when I was younger and more curious, a year before we moved into a new house. My job was to clear out the closet. There were plenty of clothes that needed discarding and donated away. That’s when I found the note etched into the back wall behind my bell-bottom jeans. 

It was a simple note. “Save Me!” that’s all it said. Like I said, this was when I was curious. Who writes a note like that and leaves it there? The interesting part of the note was that it was not a dust-filled seam, hastily cut, that was written long ago. My parents had lived in this house for 20 years. This note was clear and freshly cut. But who would have written it?

I would have asked my parents about it. However, I didn’t want to be blamed for making it. 

So, I decided to do some investigating. I searched other walls in other closets in the house to see if I could find any more clues. There was nothing. 

I traced the note on a blank piece of paper using the side of a pencil’s tip to get an impression of the note. 

I searched the room and closet, looking for an implement that might have been used to carve the note. I had no luck there. 

It was a futile search. So I went back to pulling at clothes to discard before the move. 

Then, I accidentally turned the bell-bottom pants that had covered up the note over, and my old pen knife, which I thought I had lost years before, fell out of a pocket and landed on the floor. When I picked it up, I noticed the blade had pieces of sheet rock stuck on it. It matched the etching on the wall. 

I’m not sure what made me do it, but I pocketed the knife, covered the note with some paper that matched the wall color, and put my bell-bottom jeans aside, not to be discarded. 

I’m older now. I never did figure out who or what left that note. However, I’m glad I didn’t get rid of the pants. When bell bottoms came back in fashion, I was happy I had something to wear that was original and still fit me. 

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