Delicate Memories
May 3 2025
Prompt by The Writer's Journey: The Madness & (May)hem Challenge! : Sanity is Overrated
Delicate memories
Once shared
Dispersed
Back into the land
Hidden
Forgotten
Lost
Stored
In a history
Once lived
But abandoned
Forever
Prompt by: THE FICTION DEALER: Soulmates & Funerals: You will meet your soulmate at a funeral. 1500 words or less.
Photo by: John-Mark Smith - Photography
As I stood before the coffin I was wondering why the deceased's tie was askew. I started to bend closer when I heard a voice beside me.
“That’s odd. They usually have everything so buttoned up that it is impossible to get anything in there.”
I looked at the voice. Cute face, curly hair swept back revealing lines and angles that wearing her hair down would have hidden. “Is your knowledge from experience?” I inquired.
Her laughter was instantaneous and infectious. We quickly looked around to see if we disturbed anyone by breaking the somber moment. Seeing none we looked at each other and smiled. “Vicki,” she said. “Long names are boring.”
“Tom,” I replied. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“Is anyone looking?” she asked quietly.
I glanced around. Everyone seemed to be chatting amiably. “Not at the moment,” I replied as she made movements to fix his tie.
“I have my thoughts about who it could be,” she replied as she patted his chest.
“Could be?” I faltered “Could be what?”
“Who put this note next to his heart,” she answered waving the note that was in the palm of her hand. “Let’s find a place to sit down and look at it.” she said, taking my hand and walking down the aisle.
“I didn’t know you two knew each other?” stated my Aunt Violet. “Bobby would be so pleased to know that a friend and a cousin were a couple,” she said as she looked at our linked hands.
“We’re not.” I started before a searing pain invaded my hand. I looked at Vicki who smiled as if nothing was happening.
“Vera. Vera. Come over here for a minute.” called Aunt Violet to her sister Aunt Vera.
Vicki pulled on my arm. “Violet, we have to go. We will be back,” and with that she hauled me off to another room before letting go of my hand.
“Sorry about that,” she apologized, “but if Vera got a hold of us she wouldn’t stop until the funeral had started.”
“She does have that way of going on and on.” Vicki was still holding my hand when I asked. “How did you know Bobby?”
“He and I go back a long way. I am surprised that we have never met before,” she replied as she took a good look at me with those eyes that make appraisals quick. She seemed to like what she saw as she stepped forward and graced me with a lingering kiss before stepping back. “I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you.”
“Not that I am objecting,” I said as I stepped toward her. Vicki put her hand up to my chest so I stepped back. “Why have you wanted to kiss me since you first saw me?”
“I am usually a good judge of people. I see things that others miss when they are blubbering around in their emotions. You,” she paused as she considered her words, “you have qualities that will balance mine out. We will make an amazing couple.” With that she stepped forward to give me another kiss. This time I put my hand up and she stopped. “This is what I am talking about,” she intoned. “You know your own mind.” She took my hand and led me to a sofa where she sat beside me.
“This note,” she said waving it around, “is in Rachel Anderson’s handwriting.” She sniffed it. “And that gaudy perfume she wears.”
“Shouldn’t you have left the note where it was?” I asked.
“Where is the fun in that?” she replied, “besides, if Rachel can put it there someone can remove it, so I did. Let’s see what she has to say.”
I have to admit that I was curious to read Rachel’s note. I hardly knew any of these people since I lived so far away. Rachel was unknown. My cousin had never mentioned her, but then again, he had never mentioned Vicki either.
“It’s time,” came a voice from the doorway. “The service is about to begin.” Vicki put the note away before leading the way. She chose a seat towards the back of the room.
She looked at me during the service. Each time a larger smile enveloped her face.
“Have you considered getting married?” she asked .
“Let’s wait until after the funeral,” I replied
Vicki snorted loudly causing the Minister to pause. Everyone turned around and looked at us. Aunt Vera had a hurtful look while Aunt Violet gave a knowledgeable smile.
“Bobby would have loved this interruption,” she stated quietly avoiding the glares laser focused on us.
“It would have been one of many he would have started at someone else's funeral,” I commented.
“What’s next?” Vicki asked.
“How about dinner?” I asked.
“As in a date?”
“We can eat first and discuss the date later.”
She smiled. “I like the way you think.”
“Right back at you,” I said as she took my hand.
Years later I did ask my wife what Rachel had said in the note.
“Nothing.”
“What do you mean nothing?”
“It was a blank piece of paper with a set of lips on it. It really was nothing,” she said as she pulled the letter from her keepsake box.
“If it was nothing then why do you still have it?”
“Because it is how we fell in love,” she intoned warmly.
Not that I was lonely, my family was there,
But as a stranger in a new land,
There is more to life and living than to sit and stare,
Around you, satisfied with inertia, and,
Rarely moving forward when caught out,
Looking for a pathway but shining out no light,
To seek commiseration, but afraid of what you’ll find,
Hiding there among the leaves,
Dead forests left behind.
But having put foot forward and taken up the dare,
The dark woods open up in time,
Like ascending in the darkness, upon a wooden stair,
Not knowing what awaits you at the landing up above,
Not certain of all that follows,
But feeling safe with love,
You go with timorous footing and find a well-worn road,
Many others walked quietly before you,
Then time stands you in great company,
With others that were true.
EMPTY OLD MEN
THEY ARE SELF-ABSORBED AND EVIL,
THEY ARE LONELY AND FEEBLE.
ENTHRALLED BY GOLD
THEY ARE WEALTHY AND GREEDY
THEY ARE SOULLESS AND NEEDY
IMMORAL AND DISHONEST
THEY ARE GUILTY OF CORRUPTION
THEY PROFIT FROM DISRUPTION
TAKING FROM OTHERS
THEY ARE OVERLORDERS
THEY ARE SHIFTING BORDERS
PLAYING WITH LIVES
THEY ARE STARTERS OF BATTLE
THEIR SOLDIERS ARE CHATTEL
UNINFORMED
THEY ARE SUSPICIOUS, NARCISSISTIC
THEY ARE UNHINGED AND BALLISTIC
NO MAN IS IMMORTAL
THEY ARE LEAVING A LEGACY
THEY ARE JUSTIFYING HERESY
THE WARNING IS CLEAR
TO ALL WHO ENABLE
HUMANKIND IS UNSTABLE
WHAT OF THE FUTURE
THE EARTH IS ALIVE
IT WILL THRIVE AND SURVIVE
WITH OR WITHOUT US
Chicken Dinner
At the time it seemed like a normal thing
When my mother said “chicken for dinner”,
We knew it’d be good, whatever she’d cook
And chicken was always a winner!
She was a farm wife who always made do
Farm fresh was an ordinary thing,
Two gardens and livestock, eggs and fruit too
From the field to the table she’d bring.
But this Sunday dinner stuck out in my mind
When she picked up her axe and she left
Off to the hen house—to get a fresh bird
They were hers so it wasn’t really theft.
She plucked it clean and found an egg,
That would have been laid the next day,
I can still see her smile as she set it aside…
Kill two birds with one stone was her way!
So now when one asks for “farmfresh” do they know
What is really behind their fresh meal?
It could not have been fresher back in the day,
Farm fresh was the daily real deal!
The Woodshed
When the day settled down and I lied in my bed,
Memories of childhood filled up my head.
The vision was vivid, I was just three or four,
I was back in the woodshed when I opened the door.
Those who are younger would not understand
The importance of a woodshed on a small piece of land.
A crude barnboard bench sat out facing west,
A place to tie boots or just sit and rest.
A scraper, not fancy was propped by the door,
To scrape all the dirt and protect the house floor.
In the corner a pump, over a hand-dug well,
No running water where the family did dwell.
A galvanized tub hung on the wall,
A Saturday night bath, a refinement for all.
The woodshed had bins full of coal and wood,
for heat in the house, keeping all warm and good.
It also stored treasures in the rafters above,
Things kept through the ages they couldn't dispose of.
The woodshed was important in those days gone by,
Everyone had one and now you know why!
 |
| (Don't fret, we made him drop it) |
Marcus Warrior Chants
(to be read loudly and proudly)
Chase the little chippermunk!
Chase him down his hole!
Wait ‘til he comes up again
Then chase him up a pole!
Chase him round the garden!
Treat it like a job,
Then eat him in a sandwich!
Or make a ‘munk-kabob.
I only have one duty
It doesn’t make me bad,
It is to chase a chippermunk
It should not make you sad!
We are the mighty kitty-kats!
Do not fool with us!
And if you are a chippermunk
Give up without a fuss!
