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Response to Keith Ramblings – A Quick Half-Dozen … for Six Sentence Stories where the given word is LOST.

I just had them only a second ago when I was searching for my smart-phone, which I had of course, misplaced not lost, a few minutes before that so, it stood to reason that they would be near to or at least, in the same vicinity of my smart-phone.

Not only have I misplaced, not lost, my smart-phone that is not very smart at all since it can not tell me where it is and I refuse to get one of those locator clapper things advertised for old people on television because I’m not old, even though I can not find my new spectacles which I need to find said smart-phone, so I surmise they have apparently run off together to some unknown and as yet undiscovered recess within my home.

Upon this arduous quest to find my spectacles and my smart-phone, I was thrilled to find the book I was reading, and misplaced last week, tucked beneath the legs of my nightstand where either I had accidentally knocked it off or my huge lapdog may have pulled it from my sleeping hands, after I fell into slumber reading the riveting words of Memory, Never Lose Anything Again.

Skipping to the last page of Memory, Never Lose Anything Again, not because the book is terminally bromidic but, in the interest of time and space I was looking for suggestions as to how I can locate these things I have misplaced, not lost, perhaps the tome is not working for me not because it’s bromidic but, it just may be the last line on the last page of the book that I take issue with, Remember where you had the lost item the last time you used it and you will find it.

I placed the noxious book back beneath my nightstand where I hoped to lose it again for good, reminding myself to forget this was the last place I had ever seen it and continued on my now frantic endeavor to locate my spectacles in order to see, which would finally enable the big reveal of the last place I had used them, because if I knew where I had used them last, they wouldn’t be lost at all.

So it was that only one room was left to submit to this awful scourge I have put my home through this night and one for which I’d pay dearly for straightening up later, but as this was the last place to look, look I did in each corner and crevice and even within the confines of my over-large bathtub until exasperated with myself, I put my hands on my hips and turned to find my reflection looking back at me perplexed, my spectacles sitting quite securely atop my head and wonder of wonders, my smart-phone in my hand – which I had been using as a flashlight the entire time.

Response to Friday Fictioneers 100 Word Story Challenge to photo prompt Genre: Realistic Faction

Lampposts stood dead in the night unlit yet there was light. Someone had cleaned up all the trash from the street and and alleyways and, yes – where was old Flynn’s rusted out ‘57 Cadillac? The one old Flynn still got into first thing in the morning and crawled out of every night after a day working on his alcohol intake. 

It was eerie, the streets being so empty, the city so quiet. He’d never seen or heard of such a thing happening in all of his short, but hard-lived twelve years. 

His t-shirt stuck to his chest. Blood?

2nd Response to Barthlomew Barker’s Monday Poetry Prompt: GRATITUDE

It is with gratitude this day 

that I write this to say

to express to all those 

mentioned here in this prose

Without them you see

I would have ceased to be

My life they have saved 

in their own sacred way

The first to my daughter 

whose love did not falter

when doctors in white

predicted the end of my life

A lady swathed in riches all purple 

was next to produce a loving miracle

Dance she did a pure happy spirit 

called me back wanting to be near it

Of all the legged beasts in this land

there’s no other like my Tala so grand

Where I go she will always follow 

where she goes I strive not to dawdle 

Within the dark fog of sudden illness

a battle fought within comas stillness

A figure emerged my soul he claimed

renewed my heart set my body aflame

To these loved ones and many more 

no way to keep count no way to score

My love, my thanks to you I do give

Gratitude you allowed me to live

A response to Bartholomew Barker’s Monday Poetry Prompt – GRATITUDE

It’s not only this time of the year that I’m wishing you near Wanting things to be as they used to be between you and me. Mother, Father, sisters all

It’s not only this day filled with turkey delight, cornbread stuffing sweet pies baked in the night when I find how thankful I am you were in my life

Memories slip in tinged with the vintage of time masking the trials of teenagers coming of age in a world filled with war, heartache and rage A world your children never knew

How hard it had been as each of your kin passed into the night relinquished the fight to diseases unknown while raising a house full of girls with their silver combs

Unaware thanks to you that our world was a zoo Filled with dangers and frights we as kids had no clue as we were ever protected by you

Cuba’s missiles we found could’ve leveled our ground Yet we continued to play in our yard in the sun no cares but our own thanks to you

A blissful time a child without worry a child without crime I am thankful for each day since you’ve both gone away to rest in the peaceful arms of time you still live in my heart

Happy Thanksgiving it is and with great thanks that I give to two parents now gone that allowed a kid to be a kid – Thank you with love ‘til we meet again

Confucius say only the confused aren’t!

Weekend Writing Prompt #236 – Blue

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By Ami (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris

Response to Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt #236 BLUE 38 Word Challenge

Colors all around

swirl without a sound

Upon the deep blue sea

azure water calls to me

Enter here and wish no more

magic found upon my shores

Leave your woeful cares behind

Sirens call made you mine

by Ami (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris

The couch is your home

and there you both sit

or lay close together

here in our small home

Once dinner is done

a big stretch

and some yawns – it’s back

to your cushiony throne

A noise from outside

gets you up with a start

off to the door you run

hoping for romp and for fun

It’s that nice delivery man

with a nod and a smile

he’s delivering the box full of food

toys and new chewy socks

So true what I’m saying today

these two beasts once playing

are now curled up here at my feet the two loves

of my life make my life pure delight

Two days late!

Silver moonlight penetrated thick branches throwing into relief the silhouette of sleeping angels.

Photograph by Ami (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris

In response to Friday Fictioneers 11 – 19 – 2021 photo prompt micro-story 100 words or less 

The axe came first, it was our only warning. Split logs, whole logs, branches too rose, rolled and shot through the air, impaling anything or anyone in their way. 

Quiet for a moment, we huddled terror stricken in the cabin. A jarring sound and the chainsaw lifted, it’s blade sharp and spinning madly. It hovered over the roof of the little cabin before it too, devoured the old timber’s of the roof full force. 

There was a shudder, a thud. Then another thud. Then such a cacophony of thuds, we covered our ears against it. 

The trees had had enough!

19 November 2021

by Ami (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris 

(Response to Sadie’s What do you see # 108 – November 15, 2021 Picture prompt.)

It’s a key. It’s just a key. It’s not an engagement ring, not a wedding ring. A commitment yes, but an open one right? Wiggle room implied, accepted, assumed. 

Don’t touch it! Don’t touch that key! Next comes exclusivity, then domination, then the rings, those rings. No wiggle room afforded, none implied, none assumed, none expected. 

It will work, it could work. Just a key, without a ring. Open the door, just open the door. Inside is security, affability, friendship, love. Sexuality, with one, just one. Exclusive together. 

It won’t work. It might work, for a time. For a little while. For the blink of an eye. But then, oh then. Another comes along, singing his song. Pulls him away, he’ll never stay. Accept it. 

Reach for it, almost touch it. Can’t. Try again, hand freezes then falls. Knowledge is heaven, but this time it’s hell. Never again, no never again. Turn from the door, turning away from the door. 

Leave behind what might have been, not going to face what might of been. He sits waiting – within. 

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