Kittens, when they’re very young, are adorable little creatures. They’re tiny, which means, when you go to the pet store, you get in this “take two, they’re small” mood. At least, that was the way it was with us.
We have one cat now, Molly, who’s getting older and, sad to say, will probably leave us soon (but, please God, not too soon). When that happens, Mary and I have declared on a moratorium on bringing any more cats in, because they’re a lot of work, most of which would fall on Mary. Also, when you bring home a kitten, you have to remember that you’re making a long-term commitment, because they can live quite a bit past 20 years.
If we were to get another cat, I’d want an older one. I saw this thing on Instagram where a woman adopted the oldest cat in a shelter, because she…
Fandango offers us this photo from Erean @ Morguefile.com for his flash fiction challenge this week. For the visually challenged writer, the image shows the silhouette of a woman on a stage, provocatively posed sitting on a chair with the starry night sky behind her and also reflected on the stage floor.
This is a poem even though this is a flash fiction challenge. I mean it is ficticious.
If I lay my head back with my neck to the sky will you come here and hold me, keep hold while I cry? I need you to be here no matter what time Your love means so much now, your love is sublime.
You know what bugs me? When someone sends me a text and asks me a question….I answer….then nothing! Why’d you bother asking me something if you don’t care about the response? But you know what is even worse? I’ve done it!!!! I’ve asked how someone is and I honestly don’t really have any interest in knowing the answer. I mean if there was something bad going on I would’ve probably been told by someone and of course I would care but to just hear “I’m fine”….blah, blah, blah.
I’ve gotta get home There’s a garden to tend All the fruit’s on the ground The birds have all moved back into my attic, Whistled in static The young learn to fly I will patch up the holes once again
Well, I can’t believe that my lime tree is dead I thought it was sleeping, I guess it got fed up with not being fed And I would be too, I keep food in my belly And hope that my time isn’t soon. Isn’t soon.
And so I try to understand What I can’t hold in my hand And whatever I find, I’ll find my way back to you And if you could try to find it too ‘Cause this place is overgrown, it’s a waxing moon. Home is wherever we are if there’s love here too
In the back of my house there’s a trail that won’t end We went walking so far It grew back again And now there’s no trail at all Only grass growing taller Get out my machete and battle with time once again But I’m bound to lose ’cause I’ll be damned if time don’t win
I’ve gotta get home There’s a garden to tend All the seeds from the fruit buried and began Their own family trees teach them, thank you and please They spread their own roots, then watch their young fruit grow again And this old trail will lead me right back to where it begins
And so I try to understand What I can’t hold in my hand And whatever I find I’ll find my way back to you And if you could try to find it too ‘Cause this place is overgrown, it’s a waxing moon. Home is wherever we are if there’s love here too
I said, Home is wherever we are if there’s love here too Home is wherever we are if there’s love here too