The Best Day Ever

 

The roaring in her ears finally stopped

and now

 she could hear music, her favorite

she heard Mozart.

 

The constant jostling and pulling and stretching stopped too

she didn’t have to run she could rest right where she was

at last she could take a deep breath and savor it.

Now she could smell the flowers, she could close her eyes

she could smile

because now

she was and will always be

The Beautiful Cadaver.

 

RDP Monday: SERENE

Fractured

Photo A.M. Moscoso

We all know at least one child like Diwa Bell – some of us may have been like her in temperament ( quiet, thoughtful and well mannered to a fault ) and could be counted on- even at the young age of 11 to get her homework done and her bed made without being asked.

She feeds her pets at the same time each day, she gives them fresh water and leaves a post it on the refrigerator door to her parents attention when they are running low on food and she can be counted on to do last minute tasks for her Aunts and Uncles or important tasks like helping her Grandmother with chores at her house.

Last Saturday one of Diwa’s Aunties was supposed to take Grandmother Maria her weekly ‘care package artfully packed inside of a lunch box cooler.

As usual, Inside the sturdy little cooler with happy smiling turtles marching around the sides, was homemade butter with strawberries stamped on the top of the little golden ball, pink salt ( Diwa didn’t get that, it tasted like salt but the  color was pretty ) a selection of homemade fruit flavored salsas and thin water biscuits.

And of course there was always a selection of macaroons in Grandmother’s favorite colors- pink and purple.

Auntie Hyacinth was like Diwa, thoughtful, kind and well mannered to a fault and her baskets were always picture perfect.

On this particular Saturday  one of Auntie’s neighbors had an issue with her car and Diwa found a post it on the fridge door Saturday morning  asking if she wouldn’t mind stopping by Grandmother’s to drop off the care package and maybe spend a little time with Grandmother.

Diwa made a little note under the message and told her Mother she was off for the day and would be home before dinner, she stuck it to the door and went upstairs to get ready and a little while later she set out for Grandmother’s House.

There were two pluses to walking to Grandmother’s House.

One was that the walk wasn’t very long and second Diwa had to pass by a lot of gardens full of flowers and fake wells stuffed with more flowers and of course there were the fake deer and gnomes,  frogs ( the frogs were usually wearing crowns ), rabbits ( standing next to baskets of carrots )  and plastic Virgin Marys and Lawn Jockeys  galore.

Diwa loved those still, quiet and attentive plastic creatures, she always hoped against hope one of them would twitch an eye or move just a teeny tiny bit and the- well, Diwa wasn’t sure about the ” and then ” part but she it didn’t play in her thoughts.

For very long.

Photo by Simon Sikorski on Pexels.com

Grandmother’s house was the nicest little house on her street.

It looked like a little cottage from a Christmas card and almost everthing in side of it- including the curtains that hung in the windows which Grandmother always kept open just a crack, even in the dead of winter.

Diwa gave three quick little taps on the door and pushed it open and she stood there waiting for Grandmother’s cheery hello- but the house was quiet, it smelled wonderful because today was the day Grandmother did her baking, but it was so quiet.

” Is that you Diwa?” Grandmother called from the back of the house ” I’m sorry sweetness, I had a very big night and I took a little nap.”

Diwa went to the kitchen and set her basket down- she resisted the urge to take  peak in the oven to see what Grandmother had planned for lunch because Grandmother had strict rules about opening the oven door when she was baking or roasting. It affected the cooking she said.

” Grandmother, what are you baking? It smells so- ” Diwa thought for a moment ” It smells so tasty. Is it chicken?”

She went out to the hallway that led to the back of the house and for a minute or two Diwa looked as still and carefully placed as one of the yard statues she enjoyed watching so much.

” Darling, come on back here will you? I need some help getting up. I’m a little stiff, like I said I had a very big night.”

Grandmother’s bedroom was a warm and cozy as the rest of Grandmother’s house and as always it smelled faintly of apples.

She was laying on her bed and her eyes were closed but she opened them when Diwa appeared at the door.

” There she is, there’s my lovely girl.”

Diwa smiled and went to her Grandmother’s side and looked down into her face.

” Grandmother, your eyes look so red, have you been crying?”

” No, no, I was out so late and they are just a bit tired and old like me. But they are still sharp my lovely. I can see you perfectly and right now, that is all that matters”

Diwa reached down and with one finger pushed a lock of hair away from her Grandmother’s brow and behind her ear ” Grandmother, those are such pretty earrings I’m glad you wore them today.  ”

” I wore them just for you. I know how fond you are of the Moon and the stars. You’re a romantic, just like me.”

Then Grandmother smiled and Diwa gasped. ” You have such a great smile Grandmother. It lights up the room.”

Grandmother sat up and swung her legs over the bed. ” Now my darling, it’s lunch time and I am very hungry. I’ve been in the mood for something special, something a little rich and it most certainly not is chicken. In fact, I was up all night putting it together.”

Diwa reached down to help her Grandmother up. ” What did you make?”

Grandmother leaned down and whispered into her ear, ” I’ve made Shepherds Pie. And if I timed it right he should be ready for us by now.”

Photo A.M. Moscoso

 

Inspired By The SFC Prompt: Fractured Fairy Story

The Cold Kitchen

RDP Tuesday: pupil

Love

makes

everything taste better-

Lies are as sweet as chocolate drizzled  upon strawberries ripened to perfection.

Broken promises are coated in delicious creamy frosting smoothed with a skilled hand upon a mass of crumbling cake.

Betrayal is a cool drink in a chilled glass with a sprig of mint on the side and it is always served with a smile and a bow.

I learned this all

at the hands of a Master Chef

I was an apt pupil

in the kitchen of

life

and

now

I am ready to do some baking of my own.

The Face Of Summer

Final Thursday of Na/GloPoWriMo 2019 #25 :

  • Is specific to a season
  • Uses imagery that relates to all five senses (sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell)
  • Includes a rhetorical question, (like Keats’ “where are the songs of spring?”)

 

I love the summer

so say my friends

who love to wear flip flops and insist they only feel alive

when the Sun shines relentlessly in the sky  and the cool nights close in

and the crickets chirp and the nightingales sing.

 

Cool fruit flavored  drinks in hand, swathed in slick, thick  Sunscreen

the Summer air is heavy  with the sent  of charcoal fueled  barbeques and freshly washed cars and

backyard shampooed  dogs

all around them

they sit upon their plastic chairs  and  cry in agony,  ” I hate the  winter”

relentlessly like a broken record.

 

My Summer loving friends sing their praises to the Sun.

Shouldn’t they be singing them all to Ra?

Because every Summer I watch my friends

take one step closer,  they are  one Sunbeam nearer

to looking like the

unwrapped mummies

on a shelf in the Museum of  Cairo.

 

Hamish’s Artwalk

RDP Tuesday: CHALK

Here is my dog, Hamish Macbeth, enjoying some sidewalk chalk art in our neighborhood.

He seems to enjoy some pieces more them others, don’t you think?

 

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.,M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

The Family That Rock and Roll Together Stays Together

RDP Tuesday: Drop:  How do you photograph a hum? Or is there a picture that makes you hum or an idea.

Music has always been a big part of my life and in the life of my family.

We sing, we play instruments, we go to concerts- and the music we enjoy varies from one person to the next but in the end we all find something we love in what the other person enjoys too.

So here are some pictures that make me hum…and a few songs that popped into my head when I saw these particular pictures.

amm

 

Luis and Julio Moscoso
Photo By A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso