Fun

First, it is absolutely mandatory that you keep a straight face.

And, realize that it is unlikely that you'll be able to pull it off twice on the same person.

Keep pronouncing "Chrysanthemum" as "Chrysanthenuhmum" and see how long it takes your victims, eh, listeners to untangle the word and be able to pronounce it correctly.

...tee, hee..

PETTY LITTLE ME

To my left, outside my car window, a wall of water taller than my car and longer than the road I am speeding down races toward us.

If something outside of my control does not happen, my family dies.

My children die.

Because I wasn't fast enough.

Good enough.

Not peaceful, gentle deaths on their beds, after good, long lives and surrounded by many generations.

But terrified, flung and smashed.

Fighting against gulping that one last fatal breath.

***

The bus driver stopped out in the street instead of pulling up to the curb.

Petty Little Me.

Those People were talking much too loudly on their cell phones.

Petty Little Me.

That Person looked at me wrong.

Petty Little Me.

"Zis is Cursed!  Zat is Cursed!"

Petty Little Me!

***

This is me now finally taking my 9Cs and booting my own self in my rusty, fat, black ass!

"Quit yo' bitchin', Acquanetta, and look around you!"

...I am Blessed…

.

You Can Lead a Horse to Water, but...

...you can't make him drink.

But, if you toss his stubborn behind into the River, he's gonna drink something!

A Pink Bike Kinda Day

On the bus, heading to work.

A typically gray Michigan mid-winter dawn.

Chained to a "No Parking" sign pole, a pink bike.

Not an ordinary, run of the mill, "...oh, there's a bike...and it's pink," but a "TA-DAHHH!  PINK!!" kinda bike.

Further along, the Fox Theatre sign, in intermission between color dances.

Dark against the rising sun.

The two Fs facing each other, forming an "A," my first initial.

Underneath, 2 Os and 2 Xs.

Double Hugs and Kisses.

At my transfer point, I'm trying to hurry without tripping any stealth ice traps.

The bus driver waits for me.

I get off and visit the gas station to buy lunch stuff.

A young fellow with sagging pants and hair braided back holds the door open for me.

When I thank him, he almost smiles.

On my desk, my coworker has left me a banana, my favorite fruit.

All this and it's not even 9 o'clock.