Writing Challenges

Fandango’s Winner of the Week- Cootie Girl!

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Ding Ding Ding- Winner Of The Week!

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Let’s just call her Cootie Girl.

Cootie Girl is one of many adult children in a family that are

Proud Anti-Vaxxers

Proud Anti-Maskers

and need I say, they are hardcore Trump Supporters.

Since March Cootie Girl and her ginormous family invite their friends over on the weekends to ‘support each other’ by getting together and ‘breaking bread and staying positive’

So over Thanksgiving Cootie Girl hung out with her Proud Anti Mask family and their friends and then…

she took a picture of herself delivering meals to the elderly later  while wearing the same mask she wears at work and hangs on her rearview mirror over night because that ‘kills the germs’.

I know this because she hangs out in the breakroom with her co-workers and maskless, Cootie Girl and her fellow Cooters swapped holiday stories with each other and word about what some might think is reckless behavior gets around.

They have told our mutual friends that they are ‘safe’ because they are together all day anyway and there is no way they’re spreading Covid-19.

Of course, Cootie Girl and the Cooters carpool at the end of the day and they don’t wear their masks- you know, the masks they have told each other you only have to let it air out because the germs die overnight if the mask isn’t on  your face.

My winner of this Fandango’s Winner of the Week is Cootie Girl and all of the Cooters who seem to do a better job of spreading a potentialy lethal Virus then common sense.

The First Day of Winter

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Photographer Unknown

The two figures, protected against the bone chilling cold in long dark red woolen hooded jackets trimmed in fluffs of white and gray fur,  were drifting  through the snowy woods in the cold still air of the newly arrived winter.

One  figure  said to the other, ” Just think of this:  something could follow you through the snow, it could follow your tracks and bide it’s time before overtaking you. It wouldn’t matter if you screamed for help.  Nobody is out here on a day when the air is so cold that it will burn it’s way through your mouth and nose and set your lungs on fire.”

The figures stopped and looked at each other. One figure put out a black gloved hand and pushed at the other figure’s shoulder.

A sound passed between them, it was the sound of a brook rushing it’s way downstream during a rain storm.

It was laughter.

The figures turned and looked at the path behind them- there were no footprints, there were no tracks in the snow. There should have been puffs of their frozen breath hanging in the air, but there wasn’t.

” How long has it been since we’ve taken a  breath or left our own tracks in the snow?” one figure asked the other.

” I’m not sure that we ever have.” the second figure answered.

More, laughter. Crackleing, bonechilling, carefree laughter.

The two figures turned back to their path and glided along it without a care in the world.

Winter had arrived and with it came short bright days and woven through it were dark gray heavy threads that stitched the darkness and all of the creatures that live inside of it,  to the light as tight as muscle is attached to bone.

 

RDP Saturday: WEAVES

 

 

One Liner Wednesday-Write On

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For Linda G Hill’s One Liner Wednesday

Artwork by David Ospina

“If you want to change the world, pick up your pen and write.”
― Martin Luther

Fandango’s Flashback Friday —Flavia’s Path

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First Published on November 20, 2018

Reposted for

Fandango’s Flashback Friday

Photo by Mohammed Ajwad on Pexels.com

Two weeks after losing her beloved dog, Domino to heart failure, Flavia Finn- lost and sad without her companion- found a glimmer of hope that things could be better- that there was  a place in the world for her after all.

” I have it, I know what I am going to do with the rest of my life starting now. Not later, not maybe, but now. I have it, I can see it. I have met my destiny and answered it’s call!”  Flavia Finn cried into the night from her garden under the stars.

She clasped her hands together and pushed them against her chest. ” Why did it take me so long to break out of these chains, this prison I  locked myself in. Why did I never see this before? It’s been here all along waiting for me to just reach down and-”

Tears were begin to pool in her eyes but Flavia Finn would not allow them to fall and ruin this wonderful night.

” Miss Finn? Flavia? Are you okay? I heard you from the street. Are you in trouble?” Flavia heard a woman’s voice echoing from the sidewalk in front of her house.

The voice belonged to her neighbor, Gail.

So at this most auspicious moment Flavia was a little surprised to see Gail Barton of all people.

Gail  was Flavia’s neighbor and they hadn’t spoken in years.

Six years before and a few days after Flavia had brought Domino home,  Gail had suggested that Flavia could break her10 week old puppy, who had jumped up and tried to lean against Gail’s shins, of that  bad habit, by stepping on her paws and pushing down hard enough to ‘teach her a lesson.’

Flavia had replied brightly , ” Oh my! That sounds like a plan. It’s just given me an idea. If I punched you in the throat do you think that would stop you from saying stupid things?

The air was so cool and the garden smelled so sweet and Flavia Finn was having the best night of her life. She decided nothing was going to spoil that. ” Of course not. Do you know what Gail? Tonight I found my purpose in life. My destiny. Right here. In my garden of all places.”

Gail picked her way carefully along the path to where Flavia was and she asked, ” Is that it?”

Flavia looked up and the tears she tried to hold in raced down her cheeks and into her ears.

She nodded.

” It’s a hole in the ground, an empty hole in the ground. That’s your purpose?  Are you supposed to put  something in it? Fill it? Are you sure Flavia? This is your purpose in life?

” You know, Gail you might be right. Maybe it’s not my purpose, maybe that hole isn’t my destiny after all”

Flavia Finn, with the Moon in her eyes and the Devil in her heart told her neighbor as she reached down to the spade at her feet.

” Maybe it’s yours.”

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com