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Today was Free Fall Friday, writing to prompts.
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Writer Prompt- coffee, the elixir of the gods
It’s all my fault. I was minding my own business walking past some silly marble temple in the twilight. I could barely make out, through the trees, some deer fighting a tangle of branches in his antlers. I wouldn’t go there. Not for fear of hooves, but for fear it might a god in the guise of a deer.
But then all my hair started standing on end, I dropped flat, and bang! All I could smell was ozone, all I could see was yellow patches, all I could hear was manly Homeric laughter. Ya, it was Zeus. I didn’t want to get involved, so I just sat up, hoping he would just vanish, as gods are wont to do.
“Ho, mortal, aren’t you going to help that deer?”
“I don’t dare. Which one of you guys is it?”
I think my answer satisfied, I could see well enough now to make out the old guy’s expression, when all of a sudden, with the sound of wings and the smell of Ambrose, Mercury flew in. Now it was his turn to say ho. “Ho, what have you got in that bag?”
“I am very proud of my ‘Mountain Equipment Cooperative’ back pack,'” I enunciated at an even pace, “and in it I have a thermos. Like something Vulcan would like, because it keeps things hot.”
“What things?” asked Zeus, bending over me.
“Yes, what things?” Asked Mercury, peering intently, leaning towards me.
I knelt, dug in, produced my big black and red tartan thermos. The cup fits on top, with another cup wrapped around the bottom. I held it up like a staff. “Want to try some?”
So they did.
And now it’s my fault if you don’t see them far away as deer, or far away lounging around Olympus. No, suddenly they’re gadding about with new energy and zeal. At least they like me. It’s all the other coffee shops that get hit by lightening, not mine!
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writers prompt-It’s the most wonderful time of the year!?
It’s the most wonderful time of the year. In June. For three weeks. When the wife goes to visit her mother. Strange how we have our worst fights in June. As if we know we’ll soon have lots of time to cool off. I was so angry, “Go to the devil!” I said, so she did.
Now there I was. “I’ll go to a hotel,” I said. No, not to do a spa, but to lie in my bathtub reading Oprah’s magazine, during commercial breaks watching Coronation Street. Hey, of course real men watch Coronation. We might not do spas though. Even though I was in a spa-type mountain town.
I could just hear my brother’s voice, “Yes, but if you go to a spa you can meet chicks.”
And I would reply, “Yes, but if I go along the sidewalk I can meet the husbands of the chicks. And maybe one of them will buy me a beer.” So that’s what I did.
Ever stroll along the sidewalk with looming mountains in June? Wonderful time of year. With the wife off at the dreaded in-laws? Double wonderful. I strolled, window shopped, jangled the coins in my pocket. At this rate, I would have have to buy someone else a beer—don’t you just hate having to pay for a drinking buddy?
And then hark, to my wondering ears I could hear a nice baritone singing the Canadian Pacific Railway song! Wow. I followed the sound to a little meadow as he was switching to that song about asking if Jose can see by the light of a lantern, or a donzerlee, or something. Oh boy! Could it be I had found a fellow hockey fan?
He was a barrel chested man, with a neat trimmed beard, the sort of man who people bought beers for in bars because he could sing Leonard Cohen in the later evening when the b beers and tears would flow. Now, that’s the kind of a cheap drinking buddy you want. But first things first.
We did the usual introductions, found out we were both hockey fans, and that he was not a fan of he CPR, only the CNR, but that he liked the former’s song, but he had ridden the latter for a few time zones. I told him Coronation Street was over for the day, and I just couldn’t wait for late evening, so lets hit the bar now.
And this man after my own heart asked the question I almost dared to ask, “Are you buying?”
“Yes, I’m buying,” I admitted, not admitting I expected him to get us a jug by singing a bit of Leonard.
In the bar I said, “Jeez, maybe you should sing romance songs.”
“Why?”
“We are surrounded by folks like my wife, June brides, on their anniversary.”
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Sean Crawford
in the beautiful rockies
December
2023
Blog Note: If you have ever judged figure skating (I haven’t) or rhythmic gymnastics (I have) then you know that too much repetition loses points. No “tic tac toe,” no third nerd essay until next week.
