All posts for the month June, 2013

The Warden, the Wagoner and the Woman

Wallaby

Wallaby (Photo credit: wwarby)

The Wagoner preferred to walk and the Woman loved walks.

The Warden had wavy white hair and the Woman loved wavy hair, white or otherwise.

The Warden had wallabies and willow trees in his garden and the Woman watched them for hours as the world went by.

The Wagoner had the build of a warrior and his wallops could make anyone wan. The Woman worshipped his muscles.

The Warden warbled wondrous songs as he waded through the lakes during his duties.

When the Wagoner ran and leapt through the woods he never wheezed and seemed to waft over the undergrowth.

The Woman wished more than anything in the world to wed one of them, but worried that it might incite the wrath of the other, and she would feel wretched indeed if she started a war.

Had she witnessed the wedding plans the Wagoner and the Warden wrote down one evening in May, her worry would cease.

At least about the war.

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by Beatrix MGN on June 29, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in Flash fiction, Stories
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Posted by Beatrix MGN on June 29, 2013

https://abolg.wordpress.com/2013/06/29/the-warden-the-wagoner-and-the-woman/

Vademecum

Vagabond

Vagabond (Photo credit: Abhijith B.Rao)

He vacated vales and villages without valedictions, there was great variation in the vests he wore, but a vermillion coloured piece of vellum with a verse written on it in long vertical letters was his vademecum.

He valued it higher than venison or veal, very much more than the verdegris covered coppers in his pocket.

His veneration of the verse made his manners vitreous and they shattered if someone asked if he might one day venture forth without his verse. The enquiry made him first vow that he would never do so and then verbally vicious. More than one virtuous virgin was given the verdict: villain or was in other ways vivisected in his vigorous vexation.

What the verse contained he never volunteered to say.

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by Beatrix MGN on June 26, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in Flash fiction, Stories
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Posted by Beatrix MGN on June 26, 2013

https://abolg.wordpress.com/2013/06/26/vademecum/

An Umbra

English: Man riding giraffe unicycle

Man riding giraffe unicycle (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

The entertainment was all urchins on unicycles and useless university students uttering ugly ulcerous speeches as unimportant as the ullage of the flower vases.

But then our host’s uncle arrived at the party with an umbra and that our host took umbrage at.

Very much so in fact.

It made him unable to repress the urge of mentioning the unusual voluminousness of the uninvited guest’s “udder”. That was the word he used.

The ursine uncle did not let the utterance go unanswered and unconcerned with the consequences hinted that his nephew’s exam results might be undeserved.

An uppercut from the nephew was the result and a most undignified struggle ensued.

When the nephew proved the underdog and fell unconscious, the uncle was ushered from the room.

The big bosomed umbra stayed until dawn.

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by Beatrix MGN on June 21, 2013  •  Permalink
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Posted by Beatrix MGN on June 21, 2013

https://abolg.wordpress.com/2013/06/21/an-umbra/

The Terrible Terrace

English: Panthera tigris sumatran subspecies. ...

English: Panthera tigris sumatran subspecies. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Their terrace is touched with the taint of their terrible taste. Tacky terracotta tigers tread between tiny tepees in the tulip boxes. These are tightly packed on the edge of the toffee coloured tiles which should only be found in toilets from twenty to thirty years ago and then only because people did not know better at the time.

Their thousand times enlarged game of tiddly-wink might tickle the fancy a trifle, but it would hardly tease forth tears if the terrace in its totality was terminated.

I’ve tried to tell them tons of times, but apparently to add to their lack of tact, they have trashed their telephone, and I don’t do telegraphs which seems to be the only other type of telecommunication they receive.

It seems that I just have to try to make my trees grow taller, before I am tempted to tear it all to shreds or worse tip off a tabloid.

2 Comments
by Beatrix MGN on June 19, 2013  •  Permalink
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Posted by Beatrix MGN on June 19, 2013

https://abolg.wordpress.com/2013/06/19/the-terrible-terrace/

A Sickly Sweet Smile

Grand Inquisitor Tomás de Torquemada

Grand Inquisitor Tomás de Torquemada (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Seeing her sang-froid during the sacrilege of the Sister’s Shrine started his suspicions that several things about her might be as serpentine as her curls. Alternatively, he speculated, the scene had shaken her sanity.

She might be scarred beyond salvaging, but to satisfy the Good Samaritan in him he had to search for signs which supported his suspicions before settling on a conclusion and if she was a sinner, he still had to save her soul.

So far, not a single solid fact had shown itself that could sever him from his indecision, but her sickly sweet smile sent shivers down his spine.

And that soon sapped his sorrow and sparked something stronger which strangled his senses and sent him into a frenzy.

2 Comments
by Beatrix MGN on June 14, 2013  •  Permalink
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Posted by Beatrix MGN on June 14, 2013

https://abolg.wordpress.com/2013/06/14/a-sickly-sweet-smile/

Ridiculous Revelations

Rice pudding bowl

Rice pudding to read relatives’ fortunes in (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The only revelations I ever receive are

Of how to:

Read relatives’ fortunes in rice pudding

Or

How rats rotate in zero gravity.

With the risk of being ridiculed,

I admit that I only

Feel

That I have a role in this world

When I’m running.

Which I realize is ridiculous.

I’m not like Richard the third

Who ripped his way through all his rivals and even

Relished

The road to the throne.

Not that I’m ravenous to rupture any organs, but

I need a goal to relinquish this thirst.

I cannot rest

Until I have some sort of quest

Or rebellion

To relieve my shattered nerves and

Convince me

That my ramblings on this earth is

Or at least will be

In some way

Worthwhile.

4 Comments
by Beatrix MGN on June 12, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in Poetry
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Posted by Beatrix MGN on June 12, 2013

https://abolg.wordpress.com/2013/06/12/ridiculous-revelations/

The Queen and the Quack

English: The "Darnley Portrait" of E...

English: The “Darnley Portrait” of Elizabeth I of England. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

After some comments from the querulous queen, the quack quipped that maybe they should dance their quadrille in the quagmire so as not to dirty her floor. The queen then questioned if the quack happened to have quilts enough to cover the quagmire completely or if he simply wished to be quenched in the silence of the bog and be granted a final quietus.

This made the quack quail and he quitted his queries.

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by Beatrix MGN on June 8, 2013  •  Permalink
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Posted by Beatrix MGN on June 8, 2013

https://abolg.wordpress.com/2013/06/08/the-queen-and-the-quack/

The Person in the Palanquin

Pilgrimage of Korea[n] lady

Person in Palanquin (Photo credit: Cornell University Library)

As he carried a pail to the pagoda, he peered at a passing palanquin and wondered what palatable pleasures the person within would prefer. Potatoes were probably far from what a person with such perks and privileges could purchase.

People he met always postulated that every new day at the pagoda was pristine. That in its primitiveness the pagoda preserved a picturesque piece of history that he should be proud of. Also, the priests pontificated on behalf of the place practically every day. They were positive towards his silence, so he pretended to listen and pondered palindromes in his head.

If he could pick and choose, it would be easy as a pianola; he would not be the person in the pagoda.

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by Beatrix MGN on June 5, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in Flash fiction, Stories
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Posted by Beatrix MGN on June 5, 2013

https://abolg.wordpress.com/2013/06/05/the-person-in-the-palanquin/