Margaret parked her white turbo Buick, grabbed her cell pressing the microphone icon and said, “Parking outside Macy’s swimsuit entrance under a skinny oak.” She was on a mission to find a dress for her upcoming 50th High School Reunion.
Inside, she hurried passed department windows looking at the latest fashions. However, stopped suddenly to gaze at the reflections thinking, don’t I know that person?
She did. It was her.
This was not the first time she failed to recognize herself.
At the age of 68, a stranger in the mirror greeted her mornings. Oh, the face was hers; just not the twenty-five year old one she expected.
She wondered about this silent transformation taking place. How had she become an old woman?
. . . . Seriously Just Saying
I want a Tiny House
A place to rest my weary head, be quiet as a mouse
An itsy bitsy treasure chest
With walls of solitude
Miniscule and clutter less
One pot, one coat . . . .
A best dress and pair of shoes to match the rest
Perhaps a weed-less garden
Its flowers tango to the breeze
This is what tiny means to me!
. . . .Seriously Just Saying
(I welcome any comments, especially regarding how to punctuate poetry)
My Daring Darling
“Let’s do something daring tonight, darling. Something exciting and bold,” said Paige who sat on a stripe settee with her gloves still on. She had returned from a luncheon at the Plaza Hotel. Her white alabaster skin contrasted her ruby red lips and the black Channel suit made her appear young, very young.
“How about we fly to Paris and watch the Eiffel Tower twinkle? Jacqueline phoned and said it has stopped raining, finally.” Paige continued slipping her shoes off. “It will be fun.”
“We could, if that would make you happy. However, flying to Paris is not daring, it’s simply impulsive. Daring requires an element of courage. We don’t need courage to fly to Paris; we simply get on our private plane.” He said approaching her with two glasses of champagne.
“Well darling what would make it daring?”Her eyes flirted in thought.
“I don’t know something bold?” He hinted.
Paige allowed her jacket to fall off her shoulders, stood, took the glass from his hand, and whispered in his ear, “We could jump.”
. . . . Seriously Just Saying
Photo By Nev P
Daily Prompt Breakthrough
Yippie Ki Yay! A breakthrough, I am writing.
What happened? I had writers block, and touted this previously enjoyable pastime, tedious.
Well, Saturday evening between bites of bratwurst and sauerkraut, a friend commented that she missed my blog posts and enjoyed my writing.
Sunday morning I awoke to write something. I am ready to get back on my horse and go for a wild and crazy ride. You know what I am saying. I love to play with words, cut and paste incomplete sentences to make complete sentences and obsess over where to place the comma or maybe it should be a semicolon.
My breakthrough . . . . listen to what I tell myself about a favorite activity, writing.
There is nothing more enjoyable than fixing a dangling participial.
. . . . Seriously just saying