Tag Archives: Carpe Noctem

Waiting on the Moon

6 Jun

ADiaryofaPandemicMaster

June 6,  2020

Day 77

 

Sun.

Rain.

Sleep.

Love.

AAAJUN6NZCov

Zero New cases. Zero recovered cases. The ratio of the movement of the second hand to the hour hand of a watch is 720:1. With unequivocal certainty I can tell you that since the onset of the Covid-19 contagion, the speed of time has remained constant, and that the last person who has the disease has been sick for an awfully long time. I wish they’d hurry up and get well.

 

AAAASN

 

It turns out that garden snails are not really that slow, so perhaps I should apologise to the fellow above. In one hour they can travel 150 feet, which may not seem that fast, but in the time it takes for the moon to go through all four phases, your average snail can cover twenty miles. Cut that in half to allow for time spent sleeping and eating and it’s still a healthy ten miles. Not bad for a creature with only one foot.

 

AAAAMOONBJ

 

The rain of the past two weeks has hidden the moon from view as it changed from new to full, which it is right this second as I type. One of the reasons this entry is so short is that I’ve been going outside every few minutes stare up past the scudding clouds to check the moon’s progress. Last month I took its picture as it set and I hope to do the same in a few hours.

I’ve been around for 804 full moons in my life. I can remember quite a few of them, but still hope to see another 400. Majestic, mysterious and utterly captivating. There’s a reason why the three toed tree toad sings his sweet ode to the moon…

 

AAAFULLMOON

 

Miracles happen.

 

Go outside and see.

 

Waiting on the moon.

Swan Song

1 Jan

100 words to end 2013 in a bad way and start 2014 in a good way. You’ll get my drift eventually, if not now. My gift to fast friends and faithful readers is that you really don’t need to comment on this entry as it is not a story as I understand the definition.

My thanks to Madison Woods for starting Friday Fictioneers and to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for keeping it going. I have learned a great deal during my two years of writing here, not the least of which is that less is more. Time to put it to good use. May 2014 be a sweet year for you and your writing projects.  Aloha, D.

Swan Song

First I wrote about a dog that talked the little girl into climbing the tree before a giant sinkhole swallowed their house…. Lassie saving Timmy, I know. Been there, done that.

Next try was about the silly questions women ask men. (Do these pants make my butt look big?) How to alienate half your readers, right? Next.

Talking dog? (Really?) (Not.) Shelved that. Started over.

This is my last attempt.

From high in the gum tree, little Poppy could see swans on the lake in the park next door. Their sweet siren voices called to him…

Rudyard's dog

Flight 305 Remembered

27 Nov

Happy Days! The vog has blown away. (Kind of. Every day Madam Pele makes another 4,000 tons of it.) Mahalo to all for your good, vog dispersing, health restoring wishes this past week. They are precious to me. (And I choose to believe they worked.)

Here, in celebration of clearer air, is a 100 word story for Friday Fictioneers, a complement of authors on their way to ports unknown, who, while waiting for their ships to come in, write weekly pieces inspired by photo prompts (this week’s courtesy of inveterate ferry rider, Ted Strutz) promulgated by our purple clad helmsperson, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

I think it appropriate to add this multi-layered quote for everyone kind enough to have read this far.

“If you would not be forgotten as soon as you are dead, either write something worth reading or do things worth writing.”  ——- Benjamin Franklin  (who was on board Flight 305 in a big way.)

305

During planning I’d imagined the night jump to a blind landing would be the acid test of my resolve. Through all the years the real challenge has been to resist the urge to spill my guts.

Be nice to tell someone about it, but even if I did, there’d still be doubters. Same idiots who said we didn’t land on the moon.

Last I heard, the case is still open. So I ride the ferry, take in the sights, just an old geezer doing jigsaw puzzles to pass the time.

Sure was something, though.

Fly free