Porthole

We are now post-solstice. Bye, bye.

I have a bunch of serenades to edit and post. I should make progress on entries to contests as there's a maximum of 10 days left in June. I have now been stuck at home for 5 complete seasons.

Serenades posted:

"I told Sunset about you [149] Serenade #...?" 
"Let them know it was never about them [150] Serenade #...?" 
"[I must say...] [151] Serenade #...?" 
"Doing laundry at Sparkles [152]"  not a serenade but weather
"Kayakers surf [153] Serenade #...?" 
"Keep your word [154] Serenade #...?" 
"Complaints to the swallows [155] Serenade #...?" 
"O fiery Ball from Hell [156] Serenade #...?" 
"Good riddance [157] Serenade #...?" 
"Orange eye squinting, we worship the Moon [158] Serenade #" 

Wrote:

"My five favorite friends (that's what I'd tell the Bard)" 
"Fearless [178.147] PPC#3" 
"Leather [148]"  (edited from below)

Weekly goals after the solstice:

1. finish posts for at least 5 contests. Achieved.
2. clean and unclutter before Travis visits Thursday.
3. get out every day regardless.
4. go through old food and use or toss.
5. make a list of what needs to be done before I travel:
a...
b...
c...

At home, reading, thinking after eating the meatloaf that Laxmi gave me. Need to work. Feeling okay. A pleasant 80 degrees outside after a cool morning but a hot week forecast.

Anxiety? Depression? Lurking... but not a problem at the moment.

After speaking with Jay... who said he's died more times than most people have lived... he has a pacemaker... at age 30 he's supposed to be dead.

Leather

Jay sat in his overstuffed chair. It was leather. It was his favorite. It moved with him each time he had to move... which over the last two hundred years had been often... too often.

He read the obits like he did every Monday morning.

"They got that wrong."
"Why can't they ever get my middle name right?"
"Finally got that right."
"What the..."

Jay frowned. His black-furred familiar looked up. Jay never frowned. Smirked? Yes, half-breed leprechauns were known to smirk.

"Hmm..."

Grumbles got up and stretched. No need to hang around when Jay began to plot. It usually got messy.

"At least they were nicer than the last time I died."

Jay was used to dying. Once a decade was enough though.

This had been a quickie. Not enough time to get to know folks so they'd properly mourn. He'd have to check in with the Doc. Something might be wrong! Dying was natural. But this 'dying before his time' wasn't.

Jay fingered his soft leather pouch. Maybe the gem hidden within was losing its power. He took out the worn stone, the color of Grumble's eyes, and peered closely. No new cracks, no new nicks, as dull as ever... to those who didn't know its secrets. He pressed it against his chest. His heart responded.

"A steady thump." He slumped. "So it's not that."

He glanced at his obit again. Nothing else unusual. Except...

"Wait a minute. They say I died in a three-car-wreck on Friday. Who else..."

He checked the obits, the death notices. Went to find a copy of Sunday's paper. And there was the answer. A familiar face stared back at him.

"How dare she."

Grumbles crouched in a dark corner. The fireworks were about to begin.

© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.148] (21.juni.2021)

To be continued...

Flesch Reading Ease: 91.66 (easy)
Gunning Fog Scale Level: 4.44 (readable)
Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level: 1.89 (?)
SMOG Grade: 6.3 (?) [imho the articles about SMOG are gobblygook]
Dale-Chall Score: 6.1 (7th grade)

5 easy tips to lower your Flesch-Kincaid readability Score:
1. Write about one idea at a time.
2. Keep your sentences short. The fewer words between periods the lower your score. ...
3. Five sentences per paragraph is a good amount. ...
4. Use words with as few syllables as possible. ...
5. Include dialogue in your writing when possible.

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