I was out to meet my friend who lived nearby when I found this ravaged mannequin head. Her exquisite hazel eyes and pencilled brows, lifted towards the sky as if mannequin heaven was there.
In reality her mutilated head lies in the tall grass. A used beer bottle leans against her face, an empty red cigarette package nearby.
If she was alive I think she’d be wondering how she ended up here? Why she wasn’t the modelesque mannequin in the window display for Holt Renfrew or at least for H&M. Who had tossed her out like refuse and left her to this fate?
Great green leafy trees are reflected on the lagoons glimmering surface. High above the actual trees dance in the breeze, drooping, almost as if to kiss the water with their branches. On the shore are large rocks which I take and skip across the lagoon. The mermaids will love me for this.
I continue to skip rocks until a few lovely mermaids pop their heads out of the forest lagoon and give me dirty looks. They hope it’s Peter, but when they see it’s only Peter’s shadow, they roll their eyes diving back under the water beneath the lillypads and floating flowers.
No one anywhere thinks much of a shadow and they don’t realize shadows are beings too. So the mischief in me has unsewn myself from Peter Pan. He’s been chasing me all day but I’m quicker and smarter than he. It’s why I decided he should take a trip home to a little girl I fancy; she is called Wendy.
(Hello! Just noting this piece had a mind of its own and is somewhat longer than the usual 200 words. Cheers!)
“Closing time / One last call for alcohol so finish your whiskey or beer.” The mellow lines Semisonic floated into Tyrelle’s ears.
It was 2:00 a.m. and his friends, Jordan and Simone, were trying to shut their house party down, arranging places for closest friends to sleep and for others to catch a cab home. Tyrelle nursed his last drink for the night. As per usual, he was upset these days.
His beautiful Cleo should’ve been with him here tonight, ensuring he didn’t feel like such a recluse at his friends’ party. He hadn’t been in the mood for a party but since Cleo had ended things three-months ago, he knew he needed to move on.
More Semisonic lyrics played through from an IPad:”Closing time / Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end.”
Tyrelle watched as Simone finally locked the front door. She peered at at him and moved to give him a short friendly back rub. “You still miss Cleo, huh?”
“Yeah, everyday. Does it get easier?” Tyrelle asked her.
Simone sighed, “Before Jordan, I was with Blake and I thought he was it. Then he broke my heart and for months after, I didn’t function well.”
“After a while I stopped thinking about Blake as much. I realized I resented the hold he had had on me. Then I chose to become involved in life. I volunteered and I saw more friends and family. Not long after, I met Jordan,” Simone said smiling.
Tyrelle smirked. As if what Simone said could ever be possible for him. Then he remembered the last line in the Semisonic song. About how other things had to end for better and new things to begin. So that’s what he decided to do — to begin anew.
He picked up his phone and blocked Cleo’s number. Tyrelle unfriended and blocked her on every social media. Tomorrow he would start going to a different gym location then Cleo to workout and he would go to a different grocery store by his condo to shop as well. Finally, he grinned, he would get a new haircut.
I love orchids, especially purple ones. For me, orchids stand for resiliency and strength. One reason for this is that orchids need little care. A cupful of water every few days, leave them in the sun by a window, and they will continue to bloom and put out new shoots. Kindly, remember not to water them more, it’s how they die and orchids are notoriously difficult to kill.
Season after season orchids put out shoots which turn into buds and burst out as soft petaled flowers. I think as orchids, humans are built to last. Though we are all moving towards our eventual death, on the way we are continuely putting out shoots and if we’re careful, growing beautiful flowers in the lives of those we touch. We are people who can grow even in harsh conditions. It doesn’t take much to fuel us, to keep us going, demonstrating our kindness to others.
Thanks to Bikurgirl for hosting 100 Word Wednesdays.
Hush across green dusted woods,
Deer came into the area,
Knowing not that their lives were spared.
Coming soundlessly they stood,
Huntersclose, could taste venison.
Deer eyes clear, no shown surrender.
Know not I why they came and looked,
Ate the grass carelessly and stared,
At camaflouged men threats bared.
Humans so close, guns nearby shook,
Tried to shoot, bambi eyes unhinged,
Couldnt think, at innocence cringed.
Majesty of moment brooked,
Deers watched the men, discussing them,
Drew closer —curious are men.
Deers unharmed, it was understood.
No hunter there a weapon raised,
Then as light, deer faded away.
—— “The Constanza, created by Connie Marcum Wong, consists of five or more 3-line stanzas. Each line has a set meter of eight syllables.The first lines of all the stanzas can be read successively as an independent poem, with the rest of the poem weaved in to express a deeper meaning. The first lines convey a theme written in mono-rhyme, while the second and third lines of each stanza rhyme together.
Rhyme scheme: a/b/b, a/c/c, a/d/d, a/e/e, a/f/f (etc.) Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.
Lush trees surround me, green and verdant, as I walk out to the lake for a swim. I’ve been doing this for years now, swimming up to the buoys and back, twenty laps every morning.
When I’m on my last lap I notice the usual small boat not far from the buoy and behind it a rowboat. The larger boat appears deserted and I feel my self begin to sweat despite the warm water.
I decide to swim closer to the large boat but then the shock of a sudden explosion on the sinking ship has me diving underwater, swimming quickly to avoid the debree. Coming up onto the water’s surface only a tip of the vessel shows as its final resting place becomes the bottom of the lake.
The following morning I come to swim and there are police and rescue volunteers sweeping the water. This ship was a home for a grizzled man and his wife Stephanie. Somehow she survived the ship’s explosion untouched while her husband died.
Stephanie meets me later at home. I’ve been looking after her for years, protecting her from an abusive husband. We smile and she kisses my lips, “Jack, I can’t believe it worked; I’m free.”
Well, January has passed already. For me, it feels like it’s still right after Christmas. However, I won’t complain when the winter flies by fast — the sooner it flies by, the warmer it will be in Alberta.
But this too depends on several little ground hogs tomorrow, all who we do not really know if they’ve seen their shadow. So we’ll see, as for now some quotes to make you think. Cheers!