Piranhas In Paradise

Putting My Feet In The Dirt September Writing Prompt#11- Trespassing In Paradise

Red Bellied Piranhas

I used to have this image in my head, it was an image of a river shaded by trees and sailing on the river under the branches  was a little boat and sailing along in that little boat were three people.

One of the people  in the boat stood up, the boat rocked and the person fell in.

All of the sudden the water looked like it was boiling, the people in the little boat were shrieking and when the water stopped boiling a skull with a few strands of hair bobbed up and down and the river swept it away.

Piranhas- if they could exist anywhere they could exist in the rivers by my house- why not?

After all, you could buy them at the Pet Store.

 

Some kids played  ” Hot Lava ” and like a lot of other kids so did I.

I expanded my repertoire- I introduced my friends and siblings to Piranhas.

Unlike Hot Lava where you were on your honor to ‘burn alive’ and shriek when you fell in, when we played Piranhas  some of us were  Piranhas so pinching was a big part of the game.

It was awesome.

Before I turned 10 years old Piranhas were getting to be famous in the movies and comic books- mostly horror  comics -so it wasn’t hard to get everyone on board with man eating Piranhas even though  pinching was involved and in some cases this boy who was from a family that started ‘rock fight teams’ for fun started biting too.

In case you’re curious, the Rock Fights were actual rock fights and believe it or not  there wasn’t any malice involved. We stopped though because in the middle of one of  the fights Todd was attempting to hit his own brother and his brother ran for it and the rock sailed through their living room window.

Back to the fish.

I knew the Piranha story was a bunch of hooey first hand.

We used to have an aquarium and my Dad used to take us to the pet store to buy plants

and fish for it-

Anyway in the back of the store in a dark room was where they kept the  Piranhas. I used to think they kept the  mean fish in the dark because they were scary- the reality   is some of those ‘mean fish’ were also nervous by nature and I guess the low lighting helped to keep them calm.

On one of our visits to the Pet Store  I was wandering around and I came up to the tank of Piranhas and yes…. I did it.

I stuck my hand in the tank. I couldn’t help myself. I figured I could pull it out before they stripped my hand  to the bone – that was the down side but the upside was, I’d get to have a skeleton hand.

All those poor fish did was crowd into a corner at the bottom of the tank and I knew I had scared them pretty badly. I pulled my hand back out and shook the water off. They were still in fish pile in the corner. That really bothered me. I may have been Captain of the Neighborhood Rock Fighting Team and head Piranha Pincher, but I was never mean to animals.

I went to find my Dad and asked if we could get some Piranhas and he told me they were really hard to take care of and if you didn’t take good care of them they’d die. I told my Dad I promised I would take care of them and could I get a couple.

He said no, but he did buy me an Angel Fish and some Neon Guppies.

I really did hate knowing the truth about Piranhas.

It was right up there with knowing Vampires didn’t exist, there were no Martians waiting to attack the Earth and that if someone made me really angry I couldn’t go to a Voodoo Priest and have them turned into Zombies.

I felt like my corner of the Universe, which was full of magic and monsters and was under attack and that one day I’d lose it all together.

I thought when that happened the monsters would all disappear.

But then I grew up and I did lose that special place but it turned out the monsters didn’t disappear.

They were replaced with far more vicious monsters and these monsters don’t follow any rules and they look like anybody you’d pass on the street- or sitting across from you on the train, or maybe standing next to you at the grocery store or staring out at you from your television screen on the evening news.

amm

Library Girl

Putting My Feet In The Dirt September Writing Prompt#9: Let’s Never Say Goodbye

Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

I was just thinking

about that first time we ran into each other

at the Library.

You were  sitting at a long table by the window

and you had a stack of fashion magazines in front of  you.

“He must really like  women’s clothes. ” I thought.

You looked up and smiled.

You had very nice straight white teeth and fluffy bleached blond hair.

You looked like Jon Bon Jovi.

He was big back then, remember?

” We go to the same school, right?” You asked by way of introduction.

Actually, you sat behind me in biology and you cheated off of my papers and my tests.

I said yes, we do go to the same school.

That stack of magazines wanted to be introduced to me too.

You obliged.

You leaned back, tapped them with your finger and bounced your head back so that

your hair fell back over your shoulders. ” This stuff is better then porn.  And the

librarian will bring you all the copies you want, they can’t say no.”

I nodded, waved a little and walked away.

I saw you 30 years later, it was at our high school reunion. We were at the sign in table I

didn’t recognize you but

you recognized me. You called me ‘ Library Girl. ”

I resisted the urge to pick up the pen next to the ‘memory album’  and jam it into your ear.

I  nodded, I waved a little and walked away.

There was some comfort in that awkward situation-

-after all, my only memory of you is

your Bon Jovi hair style and your love of porn-

was that we never said hello so that means

we will never had to  say  goodbye.

Date Night

Putting My Feet In The Dirt  September Writing Prompt #5 Passing- On The Passions

I could write,

maybe play my guitar

or walk my dog or spend the  day listening to  Django Reinhardt

I could even start to  decorate for Halloween.

 

It feels like any of these things would be the right thing to do today.

 

And then I look outside

 

The air is filling with smoke and somewhere there is a nest of murder hornets just

waiting for someone to make them mad.

The Plague is sitting on a metal surface just waiting to hitch a ride to my neighborhood

maybe even my house.

 

I suppose today, maybe just for this one day

I’ll sit it out, let it go, maybe tomorrow,

I won’t be  Passing on the passions.

Maybe I’ll grab them, give them a kiss and take them out

for a date.

 

 

Bedlam 2020

 

Don’t tell me Anti-Fascists

burned down your Roller Rink.

 

Save it. I don’t want to hear

that Black Lives Matter Protestors started a fire on the side of the road that you’d

need Google Maps to find and the question is why would anyone go looking for that

road to nowhere special.

But hey,  let’s just go

ahead  and ignore the fact it was a

hometown Bubba who  allegedly  started at least one of the fires.

 

Don’t tell me that a reality show tv personality

who poops into a gold toilet

understands ‘ real people’ and that he ‘talks like a real person’-

because if that’s what you think ‘reality ‘ is, I can see why we are in this mess now.

 

Real people don’t poop in gold toilets and if a ‘real person’ talks like that reality show tv

personality in the real world, he’d end up in jail or locked up in a mental ward.

 

I am exhausted.

 

Now I think I know what it must have felt like to have worked at the Bethlem Mental

Hospital.

 

I have a sense of what it was  like to be trapped in a foul smelling, dark, dank building

with a bunch of crazy people with diseased bodies and minds,

what it must have felt like  to watch those inmates foam at the

mouth, bark and snarl and spend all day talking to people who weren’t there about a

world  that does not exist.

 

How much longer can I grit my teeth, smile and resist the urge to suggest a Lobotomy

for those who ride the Crazy Train and sail on sinking boats?

 

 

amm

 

RDP FRIDAY: EXHAUSTED

Fandango’s Friday Flashback — Handwritten

For Fandango’s Friday Flashback — September 11Th  I have chosen:

Handwritten

When was the last time you wrote something by hand? What was it?

Originally published September 11, 2015

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I blame it on texting and emails.

Nobody hand writes anything anymore.

They don’t hand write letters or notes. They don’t even jot little reminders on their hands.

I’ve even heard kids don’t learn handwriting anymore. I’m not sure if that’s true or not, but I know most kids can’t tell time on old school clocks so it wouldn’t surprise me to find out that’s true.

I was at a club over the summer- they play rock and roll there.

I went into the restroom to powder my nose and what I noticed was how clean the bathroom was . There was a little basket with lotions on the counter and the entire room was  painted a light yellow.

Next to the wall near the sink was a little table with a framed picture of a woman walking through a  field of sunflowers.

She was dragging a scarf behind her.

I went into one of the stalls and the walls in there were pristine except for flyer with the names and dates of upcoming acts. The flyer  was not taped to the door, but held in a small acrylic frame with the club’s name along the top

I was in awe.

I was also freaked out.

I mean, this was a bathroom in a club that featured rock bands.

So I reached into my purse and found a pen (Yes, I actually carry one. It’s full of ink)slid the flyer out of the frame and I drew little devil horns and mustaches on the faces.

” Nothing personal guys.” I said to the flyer as I slid it back into the frame. ” I’m just setting the Universe  back to writes.”