Tag Archives: #fowc

Good at Goodbyes

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Fourteen years, I’m certain she was shocked we’d made it this far and had likely thought about leaving at least a couple of times a week from about year four onwards. I believed I must have some magical powers that kept her hanging in. What else could it be?

Me, I’m just an average guy with an average job. Two nights a week at the local tavern with the boys plus golf in the summer and curling all winter long. Never less than five or six cases of empties waiting to be returned to the beer store and a fridge full of new ones just waiting for me to walk past. Trust me the wait is never a long one.

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Vladimir the Terrible

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With the criminal actions of Vladimir Putin and the Russian Federation, the world is less safe today. Democracy, freedom and the stability of Europe are threatened by the unprovoked invasion of Ukraine. The world must respond harshly and without waiver in condemning the despicable act of war initiated by a tyrant and bully. This may seem abstract and distant to many in the West, do not be lulled into a false sense of security. Russian aggression and our responses are being watched by China and other threats to human rights, freedom of speech and the very core values of free and democratic societies. Now is the time for the international community to show these despots that our resolve is strong. Stand strong for Ukraine, Europe and for freedom everywhere.

Vladimir the Terrible,
Has he gone insane?
At the word of a madman
Tovarishchi Putin Ukraine.

Across the border
At lighting pace,
With an F. U. to the world,
“I Putin your face!”

To the West I implore
You’d best not forpass.
zanimat’sya svoim delom
or I’m Putin nukes up your ass.

For his reckless actions,
International sanctions he’ll face,
But with Beijing behind him
He won’t be Putin his place

No time to be insouciant,
We must stand up as one,
Thumb our noses at tyrants
And with Putin be done.

For this act of war,
He deserves a beat down,
or a dose of Novichok
For to be Putin the ground.

tovarishchi (товарищи) – Russian for “comrades”
zanimat’sya svoim delom (заниматься своим делом) – Russian for “mind your business”

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The Waiting

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The tick of the clock
     slams like a hammer
     against Arianne’s eardrum.
Her eyes growing heavy
     as the itinerant sun slips
     towards the western horizon.
Endless reds, oranges and yellows
     spill from the heavens,
     onto the blue canvas sky
Great billowing cloud herds
     transiting the azure ocean are
     set ablaze against the fiery sunset.
Arianne sits by the open window,
     hypnotised by the meadow sages
     bending in the evening breeze.
Luminecent fireflies dance
     leaving fading trails of ghost strings
     amongst the old grey stones.
Whilst wisps of fairy dust swirl
     in the magical air, like lacy strands
     gilding her already flaxen hair.
She knows not who the traveller is,
     only that the journey ends
     at the old weathered gate.
How much longer must
     she wait before her
     limit hath been reached.
For as long as she has a heartbeat
     she has sworn to help
     her weary guest reach the finish.

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The Lament of an Older Parent

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Having kids when you are young is a very difficult task; I mean, most days you struggle to care for yourself. Christ, you’re barely an adult, still trying to reconcile the memories of your parent’s handy work with your naive idea of parenting. Everything is a crisis, usually warranting a trip to the family practitioner or the emergency room. Nothing is more embarrassing than waiting six hours to watch a doctor slap a band-aid on a scraped knee and send you home.

A distance from your own upbringing and the knowledge gathered through life provides you with a sagacious foresight that translates into a more confident parenting experience. The problem for older parents is how tired they are at the end of every day; why do those little rug rats need to be so damned rambunctious!

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A Pantload

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I really can’t hold it, oh, what should I do,
A dreadful concoction brewing within,
In a matter of moments the air will be blue,
Clenched and contorted, I squeeze it back in.

A dreadful concoction brewing within,
While my boss keeps talking, won’t let me go,
Clenched and contorted, I squeeze it back in,
He won’t know what hit him, no reprieve when I blow.

My boss just keeps talking, won’t let me go,
Even calling me back when I try to depart,
He won’t know what hit him, no reprieve when I blow,
Thank the Lord, it’s just a wet fart.

Calling me back when I try to depart,
In a matter of moments the air will be blue,
There is no Lord, it’s not a wet fart,
I really can’t… oh crap, I’ve got a pantload of poo.

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Better Off

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“She’s so capricious! Who in hell is she to tell me to ‘accept the ramifications’ of my actions?” an angry Romeo bellowed. “I’m better off without her!

“What now, Julian?  I can’t just go on without her?” Romeo queried through melancholy.

“Hey Jules, what say we check out the cougars prowling Blue Suede Sue’s tonight.”

Blue Suede Sue’s was a successful fifties / sixties style nightclub in Mississauga, Ontario. The best I can tell was claimed as a victim of COVID-19 restrictions. It was the place to go from the mid-nineties onwards if you enjoyed dancing, drinking, and having a good time.
…and yes it did have it share of ‘cougars’ out on the prowl, especially on Friday and Saturday nights.

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Leap of Faith

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Hubert was completely unaware of the path he was headed for as he left his shift at the factory early and headed home.

Tired and longing for his bed he walked into the room to find his precious Clarice wearing his Stetson and riding his best friend and neighbour, Carter.

Driving down Route 66 Hubert couldn’t recall much beyond the feeling of adrenaline and visceral emotions that had swelled within him and the blood soaked sheet and lifeless bodies of his wife and friend awaiting him when he awoke from the blackout rage.

In glowing neon letters, the Church of the Holy Redeemer sign flashed on the road ahead; it read “Redemption is just a phone call away, all it takes a leap of faith.”

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Before I die…

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Time...

At 29, I wrote a list of the things I wanted to do before I die…

It was long and varied and even as I crossed items off, it continued to grow. At 74 years and 3 months, and just diagnosed with terminal cancer, I may never complete that list. We may be reticent to admit it but no one has the time to do everything they want, and I will not mourn for things left undone. I choose to celebrate that which I have been fortunate to experience and the friends and colleagues whose paths crossed mine along the way; they are the treasures I will take with me from this world.

Until the day I seek redemption before my maker, I will continue to live and maybe, just maybe, I’ll find the time to cross a couple more items from my list before the clock winds down to its final tick.

Disclaimer: For the record, I am not 74+ years old yet and I do not have cancer. These six fictitious sentences were inspired by Sadje’s What Do You See? image prompt. It started me thinking about how someone just diagnosed with a terminal illness may view their bucket list when faced with the inevitable. If and when I get there I hope I handle it like the 74 year old in my narrative above.

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Celesta and the Insilai

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It had cornered her in a back alley in one of the rougher areas of Antares City. The backwater center of Antares Prime, a mining colony along the outer rim of the asteroid belt beyond the settlement worlds of Caleb and Karon. The mineral rich rocky band provides the resources that power the tech hungry settlements and keeps the portal to Mother Earth open. The new frontier and the promise of wealth brings all kinds of fortune seekers through the wormhole, the galactic 49ers of the asteroid belt.

Celesta, a bounty hunter by trade knew the creature would bring her a small fortune. The aliens normally avoided the colony, preferring to remain on the more remote rocks of the belt. Only showing themselves when seeking shots of Synth, the highly addictive narcotic preferred by miners hoping to find respite from the hell of this place. The drug had been introduced to the locals in the early years when relations between our species were less strained.

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Bittersweet

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Amy’s emotional outburst was visceral in the moment.

To see him, the man that had abused her trust and controlled her every move flummoxed, weak, almost helpless was both sweet and bitter.

It was over, but for her, could never end.

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