What a wonderful fellow is your character, Tom. And, what a selfish character is Maggie, don't you think?
Did Clint Eastwood really sing in that movie? Like your character, I cannot imagine that. That is one of the movies with him in that I haven't watched. In my younger years, I loved watching his movies.
As always, you told a complete story in a few words. Well done.
I often marvel at your ability to create poetry. As I read your poem aloud, the flow and the rhymes were just perfect. Being able to weave words together to show both the happiness and sadness of a memory from long ago is quite a talent as well.
My brother chose the life of the homeless on and off for over 20 years. In most of our cities, sadly, the mayors have been keeping churches and individuals from feeding the homeless outside where they live.
A few suggestions.
#1 You have quite a few rather long sentences. I would probably shorten them.
#2 You wrote, "Since my curiosity has been piqued, and my stomach overpowering my will, I finally get up from the floor after my long morning of cuddling the nearest dumpster." Getting up from the floor implies that you are inside. I would say "ground" instead.
#3 Towards the end you have a typo on the word "everyone".
#4 I would remember that at a writer's site, there are expectations that writers will try to use proper grammar, spelling and punctuation. I would think twice before calling a singular person a plural pronoun.
I enjoyed reading another of your flash fiction stories. As usual, your title intrigued me. Oddly enough, though, I might have named it "woo hoo!" instead of "woo woo".
To me, "woo woo" implies that were looking at something sexy. "Woo hoo!" says that you're celebrating.
Wow. That is an interesting form of poetry, something I have never heard about and something that seems rather complicated. It does appear that you have created a poem according to your description of it.
You're right. This is just as meaningful as when you wrote it. I look at it a little differently. To me, it's not that "some people point a finger" but that everyone does. And usually, no one is pointing those fingers at the actual shooter and the people around him who might have noticed something.
This is beautiful. It always seems that the best long time relationships start out as friends and develop into love. Perhaps it is best when you know what you are getting. Or is it that you have already learned to tolerate the weird quirks that everyone has?
Welcome to Writing.com. Thanks for sharing your creativity with us. As I read your words aloud, I could visualize the flower myself.
I would suggest that since we are given the opportunity to use 3 genres, that you do that. You never know how someone is searching for something to read.
You're right. This was a quick read. And it was just as good as your other quick reads.
I have to admit that I feared that Turtle was actually going to take a leap, and land on his shell. Or maybe end up like Humpty Dumpty, in pieces. I'm glad that it had a happy ending.
Wow. What an awesome story. We really need to teach children that it is okay to be different.
When I talk to people who discovered that they had a creative streak early in life, they usually have some interesting tales to tell. I used to sit in one of the cherry trees in our backyard and write poems and stories and draw pictures to go with them. Not many of the kids in our neighborhood could climb that tree without help. It was a great place to hide.
My mom was a good writer too, and funny. Mr Rogers wanted her to write for The Children's Hour, when Josey Carrie was the face and Mr Rogers was just a voice. It was going to be as a volunteer until they got it going and got funding. My dad wouldn't let her. I think that they both hated themselves for not understanding how the show would grow.
Jim Henson was right about you. It's a shame that you didn't get to work together.
You wrote this well, but I have to admit that there is one element that bothers me greatly. You spoke of the two people belonging to each other. That definitely bothers me.
A man who is abusive says that his wife belongs to him, as if she is merely a possession. As someone who has been abused, claiming that someone belongs to you is a red flag. Next comes keeping track of the possession, making sure that you know at all times where she is, first by making her phone or text throughput the day, later by putting a tracker on her vehicle.
The Bible gives the best definition of what love is and what it is not. Love is patient, love is kind... Even for someone who is not a believer, the definition is an excellent guide.
Yes! A garden is like a choir. Sometimes they offer a beautiful solo. Sometimes they blend together.
Reading this reminded me of my childhood. The couple next door had wonderful green thumbs. On one side of their terraced yard, she grew every kind of flower that would thrive in our area. On the other side, he grew vegetables.
I absolutely love how you so cleverly use a twist at the end. There is some reality in your words, though. I worked for 2 newspapers, and everyone from the ad sales people, to the copy people to the managing editor was writing a book. But when I was in college, and was even then the person who drove professors nuts asking questions, none of the English profs, not even the Creativr writing one or Famous Literature one was writing a book. Weird.
Thanks for showing us your talent for flash fiction.
You have done it again. My mind races as I imagine them wondering what happened to that top. And what if the entire container of white stuff dumped the food plate. Oh no!
I'm always tickled when I hit the "read and review" button and your name appears with one of your short stories.
Your short stories never disappoint. I have sung that Christmas carol thousands of times, but it took reading your story for me to actually imagine how silly 10 Lords a leaping would look, especially if they are outside and not performing on stage.
Titles are my favorite things and I love yours. It made this old lady giggle. Then I looked around to make sure that my hubby and son were not nearby, lest they think I was a bit off giggling to myself.
As I started to read, I have to admit that I had a ho-hum thought because it was about a guy and a grill. Then I realized that it was about the Steelers. Hooray! I left Da Burgh in 74 and have only been back a few times, mostly for funerals, but of course if I'm watching football it's because the Steelers are playing.
My hubby, in his 70s and my son in his 30s had never been anywhere near a tornado. Then a few years ago, the sirens went off at the 3 locations near us. The weather dude on TV said that it was time to get to our safe places. As I got my son inside, I heard the freight train above us. We were lucky that the tornado stayed in the sky. But the winds and that horrible sound were enough to make both hubby and son say that next time they wouldn't dawdle.
As I read your poem aloud, it gave me the shivers.
Nice flash fiction story. I'm betting that there are plenty of people just like your story's character, finding it more convenient to eat at home. If a person doesn't enjoy the chatter that belongs in every neighborhood diner, it would be especially better to stay home.
Too often, we look at the rain in its entirety. You have convinced us to look at each raindrop. I appreciate that. Remembering to slow down enough to enjoy a delicate raindrop is important.
I enjoyed reading your poem aloud, but I was a bit confused about the first verse having a different rhyming pattern. Was that intentional?
It isn't often that you see a poem written about current events, and definitely odd to see one specifically about taxes and billionaires.
Personally, I can't wait to see Elon Musk and President Trump cut the federal government in half. (That's my personal percentage desire, not what I have seen them discuss.)
I recently discovered that a decade ago, the Library of Congress had 4k employees. That sparked my interest and with a little research I discovered that most federal departments and agencies have at least 4k employees, even those that duplicate exactly what is being done in cities and states. Or those whose purpose was eliminated long ago. The unnecessary ones. Our government doesn't seem able to get rid of the unnecessary jobs, departments or people. Long ago, there were efficiency experts who did that. My son's dad was one of those, both for businesses and governments.
Drastically cutting spending would negate the need for higher taxes.
Frankly, I am of the mind that our country survived and thrived and grew without federal income taxes from the 1700s to the 1920s. Zero income taxes would allow everyone to keep the money they earned. Of course, that's not going to happen. The next best thing would be for everyone to pay the exact same percentage of taxes. That would be fair, and 10% would likely work, if everyone, from the first dollar earned, would pay taxes, with no more pretend "refunds" for money that the recipients never paid.
Whew. Sorry to go on. I love that you are comfortable writing poetry about the current world in which we live.
It appears that you followed the prompt quite well. I've had many dogs, but none that lived to the age of 13. My last precious bundle of fur died of a heart attack, after insisting on cuddling with me as I was cooking dinner. I'm so glad that I stopped what I was doing to cuddle with him. He walked a few feet and died.
Although I have never had a birthday party for a doggy, the one that you wrote about in your poem sounded like loads of fun.
Thanks for sharing.
Blessings
Kenzie
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