Back in Time for the Daily Post

Posted in the Daily Post : In The Style Of : Tales of the odd and unexpected

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“When I was kid, my social network was called ‘outside’ “

Back in Time

This is the work one of pure fiction. Neither polar bears nor reindeer were harmed in the creation of this literary process!
The year was 1924.

Longitude and latitude: Somewhere up north, thataway! The Finnish Lapland would probably be the most accurate location for this tale.

How old was I?

I guess I was somewhere between ten and twelve years of age. In those days, people were born and they died. No one really bothered with the record keeping. Lord knows there were plenty of us to go around.

Despite the fact it was close to midsummer, there was still snow on the ground. The reindeer and polar bears were roaming the streets while us kids were running around, having snowball fights. That is, during the minimum spare time we had between school, chores and work. Sleeping in those days was a luxury. Sometimes we had a full night’s sleep, sometimes the watch duty fell on my plate and I needed to stay up all night. Luckily, coffee had been invented ten years prior and we were all pretty much hooked on the sweet dark liquid.

Our housing for the winter months was an igloo, which the whole family constructed out of ice. Snow was used as plaster to fill in any holes between the blocks of ice. During the summer time, we had a tent like structure made out of bear and deer skin. Unfortunately all of us favoured the winter dwelling for one simple fact: The summer house stunk like a skunk. The choice of material was not a good one, but then, it was depression and all commodities were scarce.

The trip to school, either winter or summer time was made on skis and it was part to the exercise curriculum for all of us still eligible for the classes. A twenty kilometer trip back and forth was not a big deal and was building the strength and endurance nicely. This also came in handy for our after school activities. Some of us went to work in the coal mines, while others were herding rein deer or taking care of their younger siblings.

Each Saturday the Sauna was heated and all the family gathered into the cramped little room, heated up to eighty degrees. We were sitting all butt cheek to butt cheek in the nude on a wooden construct in the small dark room. Only the burning fire in the stove gave some lighting. As a luffa, a loosely tied bunch of birch tree branches with leaves on them was used. Out mother pummeled us with the concoction and me thinks she enjoyed it a little too much. Granted we children gave her grieve sometimes, so I will give her that.

Bathing for us then meant taking dips in the icy, below freezing waters. This, after we had first heated our body temperatures close to baking. Then we ran naked to the lake, where a large hole had been dug into the ice and plunged in.

All in all life was pretty ordinary and uneventful in my childhood, apart from the minor quirks.

Do I miss it? My childhood?

I would rather spend my next holiday on a labour camp!

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On a Slow Road to Hell for Freaky Friday

Posted in Freaky Friday: Tales off the odd and unexpected

“Going to hell, in a handbasket”

On a Slow Road to Hell

Loosing all sense of colour
No use in a loud holler
All shades of grey are fading
The perfect picture slowly degrading
Turning to black and white
Really, there was no fight

Life passing by in slow motion
Reminiscent of an old silent film
But with less commotion

Standing here
Where the line used to be
Then, drawn in sand
Facing what I feared
A wall of concrete
Now complete
Wondering,
Who’s got the upper hand

A note of some kind
Almost rendered me blind
In proud bold letters,
A big ass sign

“TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT!”

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Forty-Seven for the Daily Post (three)

Posted in the Daily Post: Numbers : Poetry and Humour

“I no longer believe in the Easter Bunny,
and I’m beginning to wonder about Santa Claus.
But I believe wholeheartedly in 47”
Sarah Dolinar

Forty-Seven for the Daily Post 

The Culprit:

Maybe I am an alien
With a devilish plan

“Hello, I am Specialist 47
Delighted to make your acquaintance
Please find attached my credentials
For some mind maintenance”

Resident of Earth since 1947
Successfull mind melds, total of 47 000 000 047
47 more years to beat
Until my mission is complete

My contact information
4747 Galaxy Boulevard
A short promenade
A right down the hall
Or give me a call
My mobile number 555-4747
Thank you for your confirmation

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Forty-Seven for the Daily Post (two)

Posted in the Daily Post: Numbers : Poetry and Humour

“I no longer believe in the Easter Bunny,
and I’m beginning to wonder about Santa Claus.
But I believe wholeheartedly in 47”
Sarah Dolinar

Forty-Seven for the Daily Post 

The Homage:

How phenomenal
Quite Astrological
Completely magical
Oh so mythical
Like a rock star

My profound respect
I am fundamentally perplexed
How very puzzling
Even a little hustling
Quite the dazzling

You are… the Culprit

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continued in part three

Forty-Seven for the Daily Post (one)

Posted in the Daily Post: Numbers : Poetry and Humour

“I no longer believe in the Easter Bunny,
and I’m beginning to wonder about Santa Claus.
But I believe wholeheartedly in 47”
Sarah Dolinar

Forty-Seven for the Daily Post 

The Proof:

The time is now, 00.47
Roswell 1947
Film, 47 Minutes
Waterford Greenwich 47-piece Flatware Set
Exit 47
47 followers
London Bus Routes – 47/N47
4711 Eau de toilette
Level 47 Walkthrough
Agent 47
47 Ronin
U.S. Code › Title 47
The 47 Society
47 likes on Facebook page
47 mints in the box

bundesstrase_47_number-svg

continued in part two