Who’s In Charge Here?

Photo A.M. Moscoso

This is a Monk Fish.

Maybe this Monk Fish was a highly regarded Monk Fish within the Monk Fish Community.

Maybe he was the life of Monk Fish parties and gatherings. Maybe he had a Girlfriend AND wife. Maybe he was friends with some pretty rich Monk Fish and he always managed to be seen and photographed at important Monk Fish Events.

I think it’s also possible this Monk Fish thought of himself as a clever and slick Monk Fish kind of Guy.

I’m just pulling your fin ( Yes fin, not finger. I’m staying on the fish topic  here).

The reality is I am not sure about any of these things.

But I know  a couple of things for certain.

This Monk Fish ended up on ice attached to a wire that a fish Monger pulled to make the Monk fish move and I took a picture of it and laughed.

That’s the thing about our lives and the Monk Fish’s ultimate fate.

Sometimes we move through our lives because it’s our life to move through and we decide where live and what to wear and what to eat.

We are in charge of our own lives by Jove! Nobody is the Boss of me!

And sometimes in our very next breath we end up on ice attached to a chain that anyone can pull at any time they want just for the Hell of it.

It would be great to know if anyone is in charge here, but really would it matter?

That table with the ice and the chain is always there- if not in the fish market then it’s in a boardroom or classroom or Grandma’s Dining Room  and I don’t think it cares who is on top of it.

And no matter what kind of life I think the Monk Fish had- and like I said I could be totally wrong about the specifics, I think we all have more in common with Mr Monk Fish then we’d like to admit.

Daily Addiction Prompt: Authority

 

 

The Sleep Killer

Photo A.M. Moscoso

We were at a museum and we were taking a long leisure walk through the Chamber of Horrors.

Around one of the corners was an example of what it looked like when someone was walled up alive and died in there.

” If you are really careful you can probably get your phone and hand into that opening and get a picture” Luis said to me.

I looked into the hole in the wall.

” I think you’re right.” I agreed.

I kissed the wall  ( well, I got as close as I could- no lips were actually involved ) and dropped my arm down through the opening and with a few clicks I had my picture.

I checked the little screen and said, ” I can use that for my Halloween stories. ” I said happily.

There was a woman standing behind me. She looked over my shoulder into my camera  and she asked, ” Do you think it’s real?”

” I’m not sure but I do know how to figure it out.”

” How? ” her friend asked.

” Well. You can tell if it’s a real bone by licking it. If it sticks to your tongue its real.”

My family were on their way out of the room before I could answer.

” Have you ever, I mean why would you, really? Where did you learn to do such a thing  ” she asked.

” I learned it in the Girl Scouts. ”

” No you didn’t.”

They laughed- it was a shaky laugh, it was timid, it was music to my ears.

” I’m just kidding, I didn’t learn to do that in Girls Scouts, that’s just crazy talk. I actually learned it on the Girl Scouts.”

Photo A.M. Moscoso
From: Ghostly Walks Tour

Daily Addiction  Prompt: Deprive

 

 

 

The Short Hike

Photo A.M. Moscoso

She could see the top of the hill from where she was- it was covered with long razor sharp grasses and treacherous slick weeds covered with thorns and bugs that smelled like rotten meat if you stepped on them.

Above her the sky was a cool light blue but the air was hot and the Sun was frozen in the sky.

She thought about moving, maybe she’d go ahead and try to get to the top of the hill and leave the thistles and busy bugs and the slow moving stream full of brown fetid water behind her.

Then she blinked and in that single blink the Sun disappeared from the sky.

So did the hill.

So did the bugs.

Relief, she thought.

Something soft and cool settled on her cheek- and clung there like dew on a carpet of rich green grass. A colorless shade fell across her and she almost sighed in relief.

Then from the other side of the cool white shade she was in she heard someone say:

” Looks like she may have slipped trying to get up that hill- the back of her head is almost gone. I wonder what she hit on her way down.”

She knew.

All they had to do was lift the sheet, look into her open unblinking eyes and ask.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

 

Daily Addiction Prompt: Scuttle

The Travel Guide

Would you follow me to the end of the world

or

to the ends of the Earth

Which would you choose

which do you think

I’d bring you back from

or would I?

Do you trust me?

Most of the time I don’t.

Shall we pack now

before it gets dark and we can both still see

                                                                           what is ahead.

 

Jesus Cakes

( As macabre as I am, no way in Hell would I carve up a cake head that looks like Jesus and eat it with ice cream)

I know we are all aware of the recent court ruling that says no one shall force a baker to bake anything  except for Jesus Cakes for Jesus People.

I’m not being snarky, that is exactly what it is all about.

Jesus

Jesus

Jesus Christ why is this even an issue?

(This is exactly what it looks like- this is a resurrection cake because Jesus.)

I have worked for two bookstores in the  past- mega chain stores that sold things like The Turner Diaries, Books about how to make bombs, Porn and those Oprah Winfrey recommended books ( all of which I hated )

Of course the ” mission statement” stated that we sold books- even the banned books, the gross books the books that most people wouldn’t buy let alone read and if they did they wouldn’t even bother to burn it or shred it up for fear of having its remains show up in the air we breathe.

Yeah, it sounds noble. It’s also a load of baloney.

What it came down to is the bottom line.

If your business is selling books you’re not going to dump inventory that you can sell and make a profit from.  It defeats the purpose of running a bookstore.

So if there are bakers who only want to bake Jesus Cakes for Jesus People the only thing that is going to get hurt in the long run is their own bottom line.

For example, if I know that a bakery only bakes Jesus Cakes for Jesus People, I will  not recommend them to anyone, even Christian Extremists because of this : I’m guessing that if their bottom line tanks because I won’t be the only person who feels this way,  the Jesus Bakers who only want to bake Jesus  Cakes for Jesus People will have to raise their prices.

Plus they’ll have to limit their inventory and staff.

Doesn’t sound like a very reliable bakery, does it?

All you will be able to get are cakes that a Jesus Baker SAYS you can have.

 

(  Jesus looks like the reason why open bars at weddings aren’t always such a good idea )

So if you have a Jesus Bakery in your community, it’s best to not recommend them to anyone- not even the “traditional” friends you have who are looking for Wedding Cakes or cookies or whatever the heck else they sell that Hostess and Little Debbies doesn’t cover because in a Jesus Bakery where they make Jesus Cakes for Jesus People the customer is not a priority.

The Jesus Baker and their personal opinions are the priority.

There are a lot of great bakeries who put their customers first- and at the time of a wedding or a baby shower or birthday or graduation I’m sure that even Jesus would want that for you too.

First In The First

I know

you

I had you

figured out.

How dare

you

be something

else

                                                                                 be someone else

how dare you

make me doubt

my reality

                                                                                         Here

I am God

where  the Songs of Snohomish

In the First,

  trapped forever

 in the First

                                                                                   drone like bees

lost in a field

under a blazing  unforgiving  summer

Sun

mindlessly

endlessly

pointlessly

Ostinato.

First In The First

Ostinato.

 

 

 

                                                                             Daily Prompt: Broken