Image credit; Adrien King @ Unsplash
For Sadje: https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2020/10/12/what-do-you-see-51-12-october20/
Cadence, do you see it?
That one grain of sand that hasn’t fallen yet.
Oh yeah. Here let me tap the glass to make it fall.
No! Leave it. That means that time is standing still.
Time is standing still? Does that mean we can do whatever we want for as long as we want but no time is passing?
Yeah, that’s what it means.
Cool, we can go away for like a year and when we get back nothing changed.
Well, that’s if no one finds the hourglass. If someone finds it and the last grain falls, we’ll be in trouble for getting home late.
So, what should we do?
Let’s wait and see if it’s going to fall.
That could take forever!
©2020 CBialczak fiction
Time for the MLMM Monday Wordle.
You can join in here
Capacious- capable of holding much space: roomy
Roister- to act in a swaggering, boisterous, or uproarious manner
Dilly went to the laundry mat
to fold up all her clothes
she felt a little jittery
because that’s how her life goes.
She folded up her strapless bra
and bed for all the kittens
The linens from the dining room
A hat and a pair of mittens.
A jacket made of softer skin
soft as a full grown doe
The gloves that matched were also clean
the leather seemed to glow.
The capacious dryer held so much
her elbows fit the door
The low price of the wash machine
made washing no big chore.
The man that ran the laundry mat
roistered in the back
a blind man with a ton of clothes
Was filling up his sack.
When all the wash was finally done
Dilly picked up her full bag
She’d have a week or maybe more
before her clothes would sag.
She said goodbye and took her things
yelling that she’d see them soon
a witty goodbye from a little girl
whistling a happy tune.
©2020 CBialczak Poetry
For d’Verse Poets Pub: https://dversepoets.com/2020/10/12/prosery-telescope-of-time/
We were going to meet him again. We hadn’t seen him since we were kids. He was so mean, grouchy, and just seemed like a monster. How could a man like that be the father of someone like our dad?
Debbie and I walked slowly up the walkway. We could see the curtains move in the window; he must have been keeping an eye out for us. As we got to the door, it opened slowly.
Standing in the door was a little man, barely five feet tall.
“Debbie, Michael, it is so good to see you. It has been so long since I have seen any of my grandchildren!”
Debbie and I looked at each other and smiled. He was just a sweet old man. ‘We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time’.
“Hi Grandpa!” we said.
©2020 CBialczak Fiction
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