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Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is our charming host for the Friday Fictioneers in 58 words photoprompt, picture from Brenda Cox.

His Works

By Ami (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris

The crowds race past the aging artist, no one paying heed to the beautiful paintings being created within the open air shack on the street corner.

A small child, less than six years entered, exclaiming how beautiful the cypress tree painting was. Kano Eitoku gifted it to her. Years later, the painting appraised at over $200,000 American dollars.

Star Trek – Love Triangle

In response to Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner

By Ami (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris

“We have to get down there Spock!” Jim Kirk’s voice nearly inaudible in the frigid wind.

“Captain, she could not have survived that fall and if she did, her Valerian blood would not tolerate the cold. She’s gone Jim.” Spock’s ever pragmatic voice, usually a comfort, only irritated Kirk as he leaned further and further over the precipice.

“Captain, it would accomplish nothing if you also fell to your death,” Spock held tightly onto Kirk’s hard biceps.

“Damnit Spock!” Kirk ground out, stopping mid-sentence.

“Spock, what is it? Spock?” Now it was Kirk’s turn to grab Spock by the arms, shaking him.

Spock’s back had gone ramrod straight, his eyes glazed, his body unmoving.

“Jim, she is alive. She has asked permission to mind-meld with me in order to raise her core temperature.”

“Then do it man!” Jim’s voice cut through the wind.

“I am attempting to establish a connection now Captain.” Spock sank to his knees in the frigid snow and ice. “Jim, she is injured, she is shielding me from her pain.”

Kirk already had his communicator in hand. “Scotty, lock onto these coordinates. Beam Special Attaché Kyrie directly to sick bay, stat!”

“I’m sorry Captain, no beaming from down in the canyon. All three walls are solid iron ore, there’ll be no transporting from in there,” Scotty said. “We’ll have to do it the old fashion way with ropes and pulleys.”

Hours later, Kyrie lay in sick bay, her right leg immobilized, various scrapes, cuts and bruises tended to.

Above her stood the two men in her life. Both with their own degree of worry etched upon their faces.

Spock, “I’m still unclear as to how you fell Kyrie?”

“I didn’t fall,” she answered quietly “I was pushed.”

January Visual Poetry Prompt

Chocolate Covered Cherries

By Ami (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris

In response to Bartholomew Barkers prompt Chocolate Covered Cherries

I do not like cherries!
Said I, said I
He popped one in his mouth
Looking at me with crystal
blue eyes, blue eyes

I do so love chocolate
I do, I do
And cherry juice is very yummy
Watching the liquid paint his lips
Said I, said I

A big hand passes one half a nugget
To me, to me
Cherry juice dripping all over
He laughs as I lick it from
my knee, my knee

The box was soon empty
We saw, we saw
Time we headed home he said
his red stained t-shirt wipes
my mouth, my mouth

George Benjamin Franklin!
Said she, said she
What have the two of you
been up to this day?
This day, this day.

Stopped by the store he said
To her, to her
Chocolate covered cherries on sale
Got two boxes to eat and to share
Empty hands, Empty hands

Did you spoil girls dinner as well?
Said she, said she
Now wife you are wise and kind
I would never spoil this girl
Of mine, of mine

Mother fluffed and puffed my best
Sunday dress, Sunday dress
Not a single red stain nor a mess
on my dress did she find
She find, she find

Lucky you she said to Father
To Father, to Father
Her dress looks brand new 
Lucky for me I do not like cherries
Said I, said I

Written for Throwback Thursday, Hosted by Maggie and Lauren

This week Maggie asks us –

What makes you feel lucky? Is it a four leaf clover, a rabbit’s foot, or a lucky penny?

I have never been superstitious except in silliness. I.E. As a child chanting, “Step on a crack you’ll break your mother’s back!” Which no one ever believed, obviously.

I do notice omens, when they happen; especially in animal form or by animal spirit guides. A lot of these teachings are handed down within the American Indian tribes. My grandmother was of the Saux and Fox Tribe in Tama, IA. An omen, or foretelling happened when nature sent a signal and the tribal leader or medicine man paid attention.

Should a flock of birds swoop down suddenly from the north, more than likely a cold, winter storm was on the way or in the summer, a mighty thunderstorm. If all of the animals came rushing out of the forest at once; a forest fire could be blazing or worse, a mighty army was headed toward the village. All were signs of something about to happen, an omen, a foretelling.

For myself, the majestic hawk has always stirred my senses and asked me to pay attention to my feelings, my circumstances or the area surrounding us.

Just a couple of weeks before Christmas, I moved. It was more traumatic emotionally than I expected and physically demanding. Then, my daughter and her family had to cancel their trip down to spend Christmas with me because she had contracted COVID and was extremely ill. Christmas was less than lack-luster as I was in a new place, alone, with my Christmas tree still in its box in the guest room.

The beautiful hawk came a couple of days ago and not only came but stayed a good thirty minutes. He sat across my back yard on my neighbors deck railing. I stood dead still at my back door when I saw him and I was sure he’d fly away. But he did not. Instead, he turned his head very slowly and stared right at me for the longest time.

After that, he flew to the ground in my back yard and started stomping before hopping quickly out of the way. He was hunting, patiently with perseverance and the fortitude of experience. When he finished his task, he looked at me then flew to the highest peak of my neighbors home where he sat regally looking over his hunting grounds. When I looked down at my camera and back up, he had gone.

My message from Hawk? Persevere, never give up and keep reaching for that next highest peak. Who am I not to heed this omen?

Aho

Wounded by Cupid’s uninvited arrow …

By Ami (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris

Weeks and weeks of tortuous aloneness exacerbated by Christmas and New Years Eve holiday celebrations going on all around – me

Waiting for that text that email that call that says you are thinking of me you miss me you are coming to see me – soon

Christmas passes without a glance back to see who might be waiting New Year’s Eve approaches anticipation builds excitement that the drought will soon – break

The tree is up and decorated a week past gift opening day Ready for you are prettily wrapped packages Beneath a beaming Christmas tree giddy with – excitement

The home is adorned pictures hung against bare walls Floors are swept Curtain bottoms dance across a polished floor practicing for that first dance with – you

The smart device signals with a ping a text, an email, a call Plans have changed you may or may not come Another opportunity as arisen for you Taking you from me – again