The Stilettos

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  It is Day 23 and the prompt is Stiletto Heels.  Check out the Linky at WWFC to see who's still standing.

In the little town of Shewville lived Spike Stiletto, his wife, Hotstuff and their teenage daughter, Kitten.  They were new in the neighborhood having moved in during the Spring season.  Spike worked at the tannery and Hotstuff modeled during the Fall and Winter seasons while Kitten was in school.  Life is good in Shewville, and they visit occasionally with their neighbors, the Phlats and Lowfers.

That was until Spike stopped off on his way home from work for a drink at the Golden Spur.  Across the room, pounding on the bar was his cousin, Blade,  from across the tracks.  His tanned face was leathery from working in the sun.

Blade had always been a troublemaker, and there he was dissing Spike's friend Crock, saying that the new house he had built looked like it had been cobbled together out of scraps.

OK, thought Spike, that's enough, getting pumped up.  I'm going to teach that heel a lesson.  Grabbing his beer bottle, he strode toward Blade who barely noticed Spike until they were nearly toe to toe.  Blade, not being the sharpest knife in the drawer, started in on Spike.

"What's this cloak and dagger routine, cousin?" sneered Blade.  "Think just 'cause you're Italian you're better than me?"

"You need to learn to keep your mouth shut, cousin, as he raised his bottle.  Blade ducked just as Spike raised his bottle, successfully blocking the blow, and sending the bottle to the floor, shattering it.  Spike lunged, stepping on the broken glass, slicing his sole. 

Undaunted and still wanting to sock it to Blade, he grabbed him by the collar jerking him off his feet.  Blade was by no means a small man, but Spike was a half size bigger, and hauled him, kicking and flailing toward the door.

Spike then turned his cousin around and gave him the boot, sending him face down into the street.  Blade landed unceremoniously at the feet of none other than Sandal, the prettiest girl in town.  She laughed and said "you really stepped in it this time, Blade."

If There Were No More Tomorrows

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  It is Day 22 and the prompt is Like there's no tomorrow.  Check out the Linky at WWFC to see who's still hanging in there.

What would you do if you woke up in the morning to discover that this was your last day on earth, that there would be no more tomorrows? I don't know because I don't like to think about that.  Ideally, it would go something like this:

I suppose the first thing I'd do is cry a little because, well, I like my life.  Then I would decide that is a waste of precious time, and tell my husband to stay home, and we would spend the day hanging out.  

We'd get breakfast - pancakes, or bacon and eggs, or maybe doughnuts at a table on the sidewalk.

I could choose to go some place exotic, but who wants to spend any part of their last day sitting in a plane?  So instead we would go to a park and walk beneath tall trees that were here long before I was born, and will, most obviously, be here when I have departed.  

I could go to a rock concert, that would be fun, but who wants to spend their last day in a crowd of screaming people?  So instead I would watch the squirrels and chipmunks play and listen to the birds sing.  

Strangers would come and go walking their dogs, not knowing or caring that there is no tomorrow.

I would hug my husband and tell him how good my life has been for having him in it.  

I'd pet my cats, and watch the clouds pass lazily overhead.  

I love this life of mine, and I would take a moment to count my blessings.

I would marvel as the sunset paints the sky with colors too beautiful to describe.  

I would not sleep, so as not to miss a single moment of my day.  

And then should I be granted a reprieve, and see the sun rise yet again, I would take to heart the lesson learned.  

We should live our lives thoughtfully, thankfully and fully every day, because we never know when there will be no more tomorrows.

And that is how it should be.  In reality, however, I am a fighter and would probably spend it trying to figure out how to fix it.

No Favors

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today is the 21st day of crazy-making fun and the prompt is Favors I'd ask of satan.  Check out the Linky at WWFC for more creative exploits.

I am having a real problem with this one, so all I can say is:

Get thee behind me satan.

I don't make deals with the devil, or ask him for favors.  

Going Solo?

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today is the 20th day of crazy-making fun and the prompt is Going Solo.  Check out the Linky at WWFC for more creative exploits.

When I think of going solo, I think of doing something grand, special or brave like taking that first flight without the instructor, or giving a performance.  I think of taking on some great adventure alone.  I don't have any experience with such things.  No, going solo for me is attending a social function without my husband, or going parasailing (back in the days before they had tandem flights), or maybe when I rode my first bicycle without training wheels. 

Since I don't have any special solo events with which to entertain and fascinate you, I present to you someone who does.  Dixie Carter.  She entertained us as Julia Sugarbaker on Designing Women (1986-1993), a sitcom about four strong Southern women in the interior design business.  

She portrayed a strong, yet genteel, Southern lady who was always willing to stand up for family and friends, and when something got her riled, she really laid it on the line.

But perhaps what I remember most is her rendition of "How Great Thou Art".  In this episode she was to sing a choir solo, but was afraid she wouldn't be able to hit the high notes.  Charlene was having issues with her church and it's prohibition on female ministers.  It was important to her that Julia sing this song for women everywhere.

 Dixie Carter as Julia Sugarbaker singing "How Great Thou Art"

Dixie Carter passed away in April 2010.

Stealing Away

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Beneath the midnight desert sky

On his camel he did ride

Away to see his lady love

Beneath the silvery moon above

He went to sweep her off her feet

But her daddy he did meet

Because of this lovely damsel

He nevermore will ride his camel

You see the gal that he did seek

Was the daughter of a Sheik

She bid her daddy leave him be

Instead he hung him for all to see

The princess cried for days on end

Knowing her heart would never mend

How could her daddy be so cruel

She longed to escape his rule

Then one night to her surprise

She could not believe her eyes

Stood the man for whom she cried

The man she knew had surely died

The noose had slipped and he was free

He owed that to a friend you see

Who was handy with his knife

And owed this man his very life

Now the princess bride to be

Hopped on his camel and they did flee

Happy now with her intended

This is how the story ended

Written for the 30-day creative writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike of We Work For Cheese.  Today is the 19th day of madness fun, and the prompt is Camels.  Check out the Linky at WWFC for more stories...will that be one hump or two?

Also posted for dVerse poetry.