“This is not the rhyming song!”
Upside Down or Opposite Day or then not?
Chocolate as a dietary measure
Which can be the ultimate pleasure
To get the same effect
From this heavenly confect
You would by eating a carrot
Oh don’t listen to the parrot!
At least double the amount
No no you don’t have to count
Per each pleasurable bite
When enjoying this healthiest of delights
Chocolate is the answer
Never mind what the question was!
The neighbourhood had seen better days, but Mrs. Pauley had lived there since before anyone can remember. She raised a family of six boys, who were all grown up and moved away. Since Mr. Pauley had died three months ago, she’d had no income. She’s fallen behind in the rent. The landlord, accompanied by the police, had arrived to evict Mrs. Pauley from the house she’s lived in for forty years…
***
I was sitting on the curve, waiting for my best friends Lily and Bobby. We were going to play hops-scotch after school today and as usual, I was early. My homework was done already and mom had awarded me with chocolate muffins she had baked herself. I consider myself a nerdy girl and try to live up to my favourite TV characters, meaning not having too many creature comforts. It’s kinda hard since I like dressing up, the colour pink and I especially love chocolate. Anyways, my grams told me I was an old soul, and I looked that up on the internet, what it actually meant. I kind of understood the jest of it, what it means. And even though sometimes my friends go “What?” when I talk to them in long sentences, and sometimes take the side of the adults, I still feel like a little kid and I like to play.
I was getting bored, waiting for my friends to come. They were usually late, especially Lily, who it took forever to decide on what to wear after the school uniform got tossed waiting for the next day. Then I heard the sirens wailing. I wondered if there had been an accident and got up to catch a better glimpse of the nearing sound. It was two police cars coming to this street. They drove by me and parked in front of old lady Pauley’s house. I got scared thinking Mrs Pauley was hurt or even worse. So I ran closer, to find out what was going on. The landlord Mr Pruitt was also there. He and four policemen walked right to Mrs Pauley’s door and knocked on it.
I had inched myself closer to the house and was standing right behind two of the officers. I tapped on the other one’s back, to get their attention. He turned around and looked at me surprised.
“Hi little girl! What are you doing here?” He asked.
“I’m Emily. I live over there.” I was pointing at our house a block away.
“Nice to meet you Emily.” The officer told me. “Maybe you should go back to playing. We have some things we’d like to discuss with Mrs Pauley.”
“I’m OK. I am waiting for my friends.” I insisted.
By this time, my presence had caught the attention of the other ones too.
“Young lady, run along now. This is grown up business.” The lady officer told me.
“It’s OK. My grandma told me I am growing up really fast and know a lot of grown up stuff.” I tried.
The others were looking at each other, I think the landlord did not like me very much. All us neighbourhood kids knew he didn’t have any kids and therefore did not like them.
“Look, Emily was it?” The nicer lady officer said.
I nodded.
“You should run along now.”
I was going to answer her, but I saw my two friends arriving. They had headed straight to the house after they had seen the police cars in front.
“Hi Emily! What’s going on? Are there robbers here?” Bobby was making his usual assumptions.
The officers seemed to be getting a little annoyed and looking at us kids not sure on what to do.
“I dunno!” I shrugged my shoulders.
“No robbers young man.” The other officer responded.
“Too bad,” Bobby replied.
“Is old lady Pauley OK?” I asked
“She is fine.” The officer told me.
“So why are the police here then?” I was curious now.
“Oh, just some adult stuff, nothing for you to worry your pretty head about.” He started.
“It’s fine you can tell us.” I told him
“Yeah, tell us!” Lily joined the chorus.
By this time a few other kids had arrived to the house and more were on their way. It seemed all this action of police cars had drawn the attention of the kids around the hood. Finally I counted around twenty children who were checking out the yard, the police cars and asking the officers all kinds of questions.
“I think we’d better do this another day.” The lady officer told her partner, “It seems we have drawn too much attention and I don’t feel comfortable dragging an old lady out of the house in front of all these children.” She looked worried.
“What if we ask Mr Pruitt if he could come up with some sort of an arrangement.” The officer told the others.
“Sounds like a good plan.” The other ones agreed.
“Mr. Pruitt, can we have a word with you.” The lady officer waved for Mr Pruitt to step closer.
We tried to listen in on the conversation, but could not hear much. Apparently nothing much was going on in the end since they all left in a while. Us kids started our own separate ways. As I was leaving I looked back and saw Mrs Pauley in the window. She was smiling and waved at me. I waved back and ran after my friends thinking I was glad she was alright.
Not another rejection! I was getting sick and tired of working my respective derriere off and for what? For nothing, thank you very much. No matter what I wrote, how I wrote or how many submissions I sent in, all my work got rejected.
“I would make a deal with the devil if I would finally get a chance!” I shouted out loud in the empty room.
The lights flickered and all got dark.
“Oh hell, not another power outage again!” I tried to feel my way in the darkness, but as I moved around, I realized I wasn’t bumping into any kind of obstacles, like the furniture or scattered stuff lying on the floor in my room.
Then I could see a bright spot in the distance. By instinct I started walking towards the light. When I reached the light, I noticed I had actually been transported to some place completely different. The surroundings reminded vaguely of some of the cardboard sets from many a sci-fi film I had seen. The place was surrounded by a heavy mist, like someone had gone wild with a smoke machine. Luckily I had taken my asthma medicine earlier.
I walked around and wondered whether I was dreaming or abducted by some funky disco loving aliens.
“Hello! Anyone home?” I shouted.
Then wooshing sound and flash of light and, there she was, standing before me in a catsuit like leathery outfit. She looked at me, clearly assessing who and what I was.
“So you would like to be famous?” She asked me.
“Who are you?” I was a not sure whether this was a dream or I had been set up by Candid Camera.
“Beelzebub.” She answered.
“Come again?” What the f..k? I was thinking this definitely had to be a set up.
She looked at me annoyed.
“You know as in Old Nick, Lucifer, the Tempter, Prince of Darkness? Ring a bell for you?”
I shook my head.
“Satan!” She shouted out loud her voice echoing in the setting.
“Ah!” I finally got it, “What’s with the decoy? Why not come right in front and introduce yourself like “Hi, I am Satan, nice to meet you!” I asked trying to lighten the mood.
She, Satan stared at me and I got a little worried then. My skin was burning a little. For what ever reason, I wasn’t sure.
“I heard you were ready to deal.” Satan stated matter of factually.
“Maybe,” I tried nonchalantly not believing my luck! “What kind of deal did you have in mind?”
“Well I can make you rich and famous and all that entails as.. What was it again you said you were, a writer?”
“Yeah!” So, not all knowing after all, I thought.
“Writer. Yes, well I have several of those, but if that is what you want to be then who am I to argue.” Satan responded, looking at me eyes flaming.
“What exactly would it entail? The deal I mean?” My curiosity was peaked, but this sounded too good of a deal to really be true.
“Well do you think you are any good as a writer now?” Satan asked me.
Motioning my hand in comme ci comme ça -manner. “Meh?”
“Well, despite your short comings, I can make sure what ever word fall from your pen or what is it you humans are using now, keyboard?”
I nodded.
“I can make sure it’s all gold and you will become a renowned writer.”
I was really hooked now.
“What do I have to do?”
Another woosh sounded.
“Simply put on them red slippers and click your heels three times!” Satan pointed at the newly appeared footwear.
I was hesitant, red wasn’t really my colour.
“I don’t know. Can I see that in an other colour?”
I could see Satan’s eyes widen and sure, there was smoke coming out of her ears.
“You dare to contradict me?” She was furious.
Oh, oh. I had angered the devil, not good. I was worried I might loose the deal. And red was fine. I could always accessorize and buy a red bag, maybe a matching hat…
“Fine! Don’t get your knickers in a bunch! I will put the red slippers on, no problem!” I slipped the shoes on one by one and pointed at them: “See! Chill out Satan!”
She grinned wickedly: “Excellent! Now click your heels three times.”
“Seriously?” I asked. I thought I heard that line in a movie some place.
“Do as I damn well say!” Satan clearly had anger management issues.
“OK, I will. Look, I am doing it.”
And with that said, I clicked my heels, one, two, three times. The lights flickered again. Everything went dark.
“Not this again! Been there done that, now bring on the light!” I shouted in despair.
Then the lights came on. I was back in my, room?
It wasn’t my room, not at least the way I left it. It was a huge room with nice furniture and all kinds of gorgeous glittery things around. I looked around in awe. Where was I?
I noticed a newspaper on the table. I went to look to find more clues as to where and why. My heart skipped a beat. The headline stated “Premier for ‘Dancing with the Devil in the pale moonlight’ written by the famous author, Gun Roswell”
I glanced at my feet. And, I was still wearing the red slippers on my feet!
“You have to be careful what you wish for. What you think you want, may be more than you can handle!”
A Woman
Can be
Many things
Curvy
Feminine
Sexy
Calculating
Manipulative
Evil
Promiscuous
Slutty
Trollopy
A Woman is also
A
Mother
Sister
Wife
Lady
Dame
Queen
Treat her right
A woman can be
Giving
Loving
Romantic
And forever Yours
My Glasses,
A band-aid as quick fix
My Teeth
Dental braces for the glitches
I am awkward
Sometimes scared
A social coward
Of everything
and everyone
Over analyzing
Constantly thinking
But
I am also
Stalking you
Admiring you
Too Afraid
to approach you
Standing in the narrow corridor
Staring in awe
From a far
There you are
Suddenly
Walking towards me
I try to hide
No place to run
No where to flee
As you approach
I try to look away
Hoping you won’t notice me
Standing there
I feel the need to pee
Panic attacks
Breath caught
Eyes scanning
Nothing in planning
I am caught
I hear
“There you are!”
Not a word
Escapes my mouth
Standing there
Staring in silence
“Hello”
You say
“Hel- lo”
I try
Stepping closer
No hesitation
You say
“Just kiss me already!”
Who am I?
You dare to ask me?
Or are you playing shy?
Or do you task me?
Do you not know who I am?
I am everyone
And I am no one
I know all
Still I am alone
I own everything
And I own nothing
I rule the world
Yet, I rule nothing
I rule your world
I rule you
I am gorgeous
I am sexy
I am marvellous
I am perplexing
Hardly ordinary
I am, extraordinaire
All the adjectives you can imagine
No one quite my kin
I can do anything
I can do everything
I can go everywhere
You can find me anywhere
And don’t you dare
To disagree with me
Or I will give you the scare
For contradicting me
Why?
You ask
The reason is
this simple thing
I am the Queen of
Fucking Everything!
Simply, Weird
Bizarre
Curious
Eerie
Highly Extraordinary
Mismatched
Odd
Peculiar
Still Familiar
Scratchy
Sinful
Strange
Only Natural
Queer
Unusual
Uncanny
Seriously Virtuous
Unearthly
Weird
Whacked
Still, very very Wicked
Or am I simply,
A Special Edition?
Looking into
A writers mind
You may phew
On what you find
Look in,
Carefully
Surprisingly
Lurking
Emerging
A
Tinker, Tailor,
Soldier, Sailor,
Rich Man, Poor Man,
Beggar Man, Thief
Peeping Tom, Stalker
Pervert, Prude
Sister, Brother
Loud Mouth, Mute
A
Antagonist
Protagonist
Killer, Saviour
Bad behaviour?
Winner, Looser
Coward, Hero
Or simply a Zero?
Storyteller, Liar
Truth teller, Denier
A questionable character?
Or just a clever Actor?
Psychopath,
Or, on a Path?
Writer, Politician, or a Crook?
Did I get you hooked?
“By George we made it!” Emma shouted in victory.
“I thought we were lost there for a moment, but here we are. And all in one piece!” Marc added dusting off his jacket.
“Too bad we lost George.” Emma was feeling sorry for the poor guy.
Marc looked at Emma and with a sad voice answered: “The needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few.”
“Or the one!” Emma added.
Marc hugged Emma as they were standing, both looking into the distance, thoughts on their lost comrade.
***
I was on my way to work, when I stopped by the coffee shop. Waiting for my order I glanced around the place and noticed three intriguing characters in the farthest corner table. Two men and a woman, obviously deep in conversation, planning something from the looks of how they were positioned. Huddled together, serious yet fierce expressions on their faces and looking like they were plotting something.
Being of a curious nature, interested in all human relations, I took a few steps closer, trying to catch a glimpse of what they were talking about.
“This has to go down today!” The woman said loud enough for me to hear from my position.
I was hooked. I inched even closer and secretly hoped my order would take a while to complete.
“Did you check the weapons, made sure we have enough ammo?” The other man asked from the one sitting opposite him.
“All checked boss! I also added an extra ingredient, just to spice things up! Can’t wait to see the other guys’ faces when they get hit!” He responded with a smirk on his lips.
‘Boss, hit, guns?!’
Some kind of heist or mob hit in the planning I wondered. I was shaking a little. The threesome sitting around the table did not look like robbers or mob members, rather like nerds or students. But never judge a book by it’s cover.
The woman then took something out from her bag and laid it on the table. It looked like a map of sorts.
“Are we all clear on our positions at the final stage.” She was pointing at something on the paper to the others.
“What if I change my stance here rather than here.” The other man asked the woman and the one he had called boss.
“No!” The woman raised her voice again. Clearly the other man had been wrong about who the real boss was.
She then continued, “No deviations! We will all stick to the plan as agreed before.”
The man just nodded.
“Excellent!” The woman responded, “Now as to the next…”
Her voice faded to the sounds of new customers coming in to the shop. A loud soccer team had just entered the premises and I could not hear the threesome’s conversation.
And then, my name was called out from the counter. My order was ready.
Pondering whether to ignore it and try to stay a while longer. Then again, it would look suspicious, if I would stand there with my coffee and bagels in my hand. Reluctantly I decided to leave. Maybe there was something in the newspaper tomorrow I could read about. After all, I was no detective, nor law officer. Just an eavesdropper on her way to work!
***
Emma and Marc were standing at the top of the hill holding their guns. They had finally won a battle.
“Poor George!” Marc was looking down at his friend, laying non moving down by the bushes.
“He was brave, right to the end!” Emma credited his fallen friend.
“Guys! A little help, please!” A voice shouted from below.
Emma and Marc looked at each other. Then started their way down the hill. They reached their destination and remained standing there, neither making an effort to help.
“Guys? I am dying here!”
“Well, it’s your own fault!” Marc told him.
“Yeah, you failed to follow the plan and got hit. Right in the forehead no less!” Emma berated him.
“Sorry, guess I should have cut back on the doughnuts!” Was the response of the fallen man, “I felt the energy draining away from me as I was running after you guys.”
Marc offered his hand to his friend and helped him up.
“George, you are a mess. You have paint all over your face!” Marc looked at the dirty face of his friend who had been hit by multiple paint pellets.
“Well, our team still won!” George replied with a big grin.
“We sure did George, we sure did!” Emma patted George on the back, “Thanks for taking one for the team!”
“Now, let’s go and celebrate our victory! Donuts anyone?” Marc added.
“Hear, hear!” The other two replied in unison.
I told you so, but you never listen!
A “conversation” between two people about everything and nothing as it may have happened.
“You are so thick headed aren’t you!”
“So I’m the one who is the bad guy again, huh?”
“Well you are. There is no arguing about that!”
“So you are blaming me about everything that has gone wrong?”
“Yes, what’s your point?”
“No point. It’s hilarious! You are hilarious!”
“So now you are saying I’m a joke? Is that it?”
“No, I said you must be joking.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
“Then there must be something wrong with your hearing.”
“So now you are complaining about my ability to understand you!”
“No, I said you understand things in your own way.”
“Are you calling me stupid? If you are I will show you stupid…!”
“Good grief! Read my lips: You are stubborn!”
“Just because I hear and understand something differently than you, that makes me stubborn?”
“Potato, tomato!”
“Are you mocking me?”
“No.”
“It sure sounded like you were.”
“You heard me wrong then!”
“Again with the hearing! I am not deaf you know!”
“What was the point?”
“What point?”
“Why are we arguing?”
“I dunno. The weather is not so good today?”
“No it’s not. The forecast promised sunshine tomorrow though.”
“Sounds good.”
“Yep.”
“Yep.”
“Ok then!”
“Yep.”
Sometimes an argument is just that. The words are not important. The point of it is, there was no point to begin with. A bad day can cause feelings to run amuck. Venting with someone you trust and then forgetting about it is cathartic.
