Tag Archives: #sixsentencestories

Hey Norm

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Content Warning: Course language.

Hey Norm

“Hey Norm, what’s another term for a complete and utter idiot.”

“I dunno, why do you ask?” Norm replied.

“I have this friend who is a complete waste of skin but I need something stronger to describe him.”

“Try moron, dullard, numskull, doofus, chowderhead, oxygen thief, fuckwit, or nimrod; do I know this person?”

“Possibly,” I said before pausing momentarily.
“Hey fuckwit…”

GirlieOnTheEdge’s Six Sentence Stories #209.
Date: 2022-04-24 | Word: Term | Tags: #sixsentensestories

Photo Credit: NCIS – Season 4.
Copyright 2022 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.

Tree of Life

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Tree of Life

Limbs dark and cold thaw in the spring air, lifeblood stored in my subterranean network pushes towards the sky; so sweet and abundant that I can spare a drop or two for you.

In the new warmth, tiny buds form and push outward, filling the canopy and blotting out the sun from the path below.

Branches teaming with life, caterpillars feed on the leaves that breathe in carbon and exhale oxygen; beetles and weevils prefer the dark spaces hidden beneath my bark; robins, woodpeckers and jays nest and rest and feast and hide within my cover; and squirrels burrow in the hollow recesses of my long dead core.

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The Edge of Space-Time

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The Edge of Space-Time

Jaycee rode the crest of the space-time ripple racing outward across the farthest edges of the universe. Xe could recall every moment of the almost 14 billion year journey starting from the blinding light at the instant xe broke free from xyr father’s grip. Racing ever outward on the expanding wave until all the stars left in xyrs wake had all but faded from view.

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Family Business

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Family Business

The CEO droned on about recovery, new products and the future but there wasn’t enough money left in the kitty to make any of that happen.

Martin the youngest and brightest of the four brothers sat quietly, half taking in what was being said, half watching what was happening beyond the windows of the top floor headquarters. His blood boiling with every word that the imbecile his older brothers had hired spit out and hurled the length of the table his brothers and the other board members encircled.

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Final Moments

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This story is loosely based on real-life events in a neighbourhood in my native Toronto. Names, ages and details have been altered but the story of loss is the same. My heart goes out to the family who lives this horror every day.

Note: Please be aware of the graphic nature of the content presented.

She stood graveside, wrapped in her husband’s arms, nothing but the rhythm of the falling rain to hide the painful beat of a broken heart and the stream of tears running down her face. Today marked their 7th birthday, Amir and Sunil, her precious twins cut down as they played peacefully in their own driveway.

Nine months had passed since a sixteen-year-old demon raced through the neighbourhood in Daddy’s Mercedez Benz; completely unaware of the precious lives surrounding him as he caught the curb at three times the limit, vaulting the steel monstrosity he commanded it into the afternoon air.

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Morning Ritual

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“Where’s my textbooks? I have a test today.” Jamie screeched over his sister’s singing while grabbing her left earpiece.

“Wherever you left them, dumbo!” she shot back at a volume meant to compensate for the music in her head; playing so loud that we were all subjected to listen despite her headphones.

“Hey watch your mouth, Jeannie – – Babe, have you seen my bloody keys, I am going to be late!”

God damn it, every day is like groundhog day she thought as she responded on autopilot, “Check your coat, hun.”

When they were all finally gone she lit the spliff she’d rolled the night before and in the new quiet, pull in the same deep smoke filled breath she drew in every morning.

Holding her breath in as a euphoric wave of calm floods into her limbs; finally the world was in harmony with her.

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Watercolours

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Ally looked confused sifting through the course catalog. “How in the name of God do I pick a future right here and now?”

Her Grandfather chimed in, “Think of your future as a blank canvas. It may start with some timid strokes but if you are deliberately thoughtful in making your choices and you let your heart lead you to the things that are important an image will begin to take shape. There may be obstacles to overcome and course corrections to be made along the way but as long as you remain true to yourself those early strokes will begin to bristle with confidence; the watercolours replaced with a more permanent layer. By the time you get to my age, your story will be filled with many chapters and the masterpiece you will be remembered for will have taken shape; it will be your portrait immortal.”

Firtlin’ about in her seat she rolled her eyes at him and replied, “Always with the life advice Grandpa, thanks I just need to decide between the Arts or Sciences.”

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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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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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