Tag Archives: Word

FRY

FRY

Early in the morning before all the stores were open, two men arrived in a nondescript gray sedan. They had looked the small town over, debated on several escape routes, and finally decided they would leave on the same street they came in. It could have been any other street but their choice was probably the best because the other streets were not as clean.
“Odd way of thinking about a getaway street but there had to be some criteria for picking an escape route.” I remember telling the sheriff that after the ill-fated episode. We were just sitting on the porch, after the robbery, playing lawyer, trying to come up with reasonable explanations why someone would rob a café when there was a bank right next door. It still doesn’t make sense.
Anyway, these two men sauntered into the café, sniffed the air, and plunked down on a couple of swivel chairs. “It’s gonna be a hot one today,” the short man said. “I bet you could fry an egg on the sidewalk.”
One of the waitresses, Rebecca, was busy wrapping the silverware so she almost missed the expression on the stranger’s face when Ruth said, “Bobby, don’t bother using the skillets or frying pans today. This man says he wants his egg cooked on the sidewalk so it can get more flavor.”
“Now, honey, I didn’t say that. you’re stretching the truth and making me mad. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I just want an ordinary breakfast so we can be back on the road.”
“Where you all heading? You don’t want to be on the road after ten. And make sure you put on plenty of sunscreen. You’ll fry if you’re in the sun too long.”
The short man said, “We’ll take our chances. Now give us each a breakfast and be quick about it. We’ve got to be in El Paso before noon. And,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gun. “I want all of you to finance the adventure.” He looked around the room. “Put all your money in this bag. George will be coming around to collect.”
“As soon as I fry these hash browns and flip the eggs, I’ll be right with you,” Rebecca called out. “We’re short-handed right now. The other waitress went home sick and Floyd, the cook, is out getting supplies. I can’t tell you when the cash drawer will open. It’s on a timer. The cash was counted this morning and delivered to the bank. You might as well put your gun away and have a cup of coffee. You’ll feel much better if you get your blood circulating. Last week, Bill was feeling poorly and got real cranky. He didn’t settle down until he had coffee and some apple crisp. Did I tell you Sally Mae is the best pie maker in Succotash County? She fries the apples before mixing them with the other ingredients. She will probably win the blue ribbon this year too.”
“Lady, I have no interest in Sally Mae’s pies. I thought her apple crisp was tasteless, like it was fried on the street. Please don’t make me hurt you. If we get caught this would be my third strike. The judge said if we got in trouble again we would fry on the rack.”
“George, will you check our escape and make sure nobody’s in our path?”
George did not return as expected. Shorty, the short man, found George and two other gang members working the grill, selling hot dogs and hamburgers. It was the first time the Succotash County Wildcats made enough cash to purchase matching uniforms .
It was the start of a new era. The Wildcats reigned as champions for several years. The Bad News Wildcats did quite well until that notorious girls’ team beat them in the championship. That humiliating experience was fried into their memory but never mentioned again.

First Friday

How could there be a First Friday?
Every week had a Friday,
Just one Friday to focus on,
One Friday to make plans for fun.
Nothing different about one day
Except perceptions about a time to pray.
Why would one Friday suffice
As a day for sacrifice?
A First Friday to meditate
And see control as more than fate.

Dear Amy,

Dear Amy, I was pleased to receive your letter,
and I hope you’re getting better. Sorry that I scared you, but it seemed the best thing to do. I was expecting you to leap into my arms, but you chose to withhold your charms. As for the garden we planted by the light of the moon, I hope it grows real soon. My heart beats faster each time I see you, and I realize no one else will do. I’d be pleased if you gave me a kiss, and I would promise you this. I will love you forever. Oh, by the way, your father was just having fun, he doesn’t really have a gun, does he? Was he serious when he told me to go away, that I would never find a way? Please write me soon and we’ll meet at noon.
Sincerely, Sneaky Pete

YOUNG AND SENSITIVE (part one)

“Do you think I’m ugly?” she asked me.
She was beautiful and I couldn’t agree.
“You are lovlier than the most beautiful flower,
But why do you ask, at this late hour?
Have I ignored you for too long?”
A man who answers quickly is usually wrong.
I was careful with words I might say.
She was sensitive at this time of day.
She said, “I have a zit on my face.
If it’s there tomorrow I’ll be a disgrace.”
It was a small bump and so easy to get.
I should not say anything that I might regret.
“I don’t see anything on your pretty face.
I’ll always think you are beautiful in any case.”
“You’re following the rules down to the letter,
you’re being nice to make me feel better.”
“Of course,” I replied. “I don’t want you to be blue.
I want you to know I’ll alwawys love you.”
Her tears stopped and she considered what I said.
“You’ll still love me is my eyes are puffy and red?”
I answered, “Today, tomorrow, every day in time.
I’ll love you forever and I’m glad you are mine.”
She smiled before she walked away,
I sighed. “I am just a man,” I thought.
Can I be sensitive day after day?”
Hearing what she was feeling is a major task,
Lord, have mercy, is all I ask.

Words on Fire!

Words

Words (Photo credit: sirwiseowl)

 

Words on Fire

 

When my muse comes around to inspire

 

My words dance with fire

 

Building castles everywhere

 

Out of dreams and thin air

 

Blending new romance with raw desire.

 

 

 

With each tale that demands to be told

 

Real stories become bold

 

Allowing characters to act

 

Mixing fantasy with fact

 

Grabbing audiences with claws that hold.

 

 

 

Because these words coax and seduce

 

Strong feelings they produce

 

Stirring embers deep inside

 

Where feelings cannot hide

 

Boiling hearts with their own juice.

 

 

 

My words are powerful on a page

 

Or when spoken on life’s stage

 

Gathering no moss as they flow

 

Becoming stronger as they go

 

Carrying the discovered wisdom of an age.

 

 

 

My words are restless and never tire

 

As they pull others from the mire

 

But they carry a deadly sting

 

If venom is permitted its full swing

 

Therefore cautiously I write with fire.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last Words

Scuba diving in Elba island, Italy

Image via Wikipedia

Last Words That Were Easy to Remember

(Last words are in parenthesis)

 

There have been times I’ve said,

Last words I hoped were true,

I said them so sweet they’d be good to eat,

If they were returned by you,

 

The words (I Love You) were special,

And when I gave you a Valentine’s card,

In the fifth grade that was a problem,

Friends teased me often on the school yard,

 

When we went on the scuba diving trip,

And you assured me (no sharks) were there,

Why did you get so excited,

When one whispered in your ear?

 

You got into an argument with your friend,

And you said I could take care of us,

You didn’t tell me he was a karate instructor,

(What happened?)  I got run over by a bus!

 

Last words were easy to remember,

Especially when their meaning rang true,

In dreams they came to spice up my nights,

But the words I treasured most were (“I do”),

 

You might have thought I’d have memorized,

Those phrases that were difficult to hear,

But the two words that drove me to the edge,

Were short and simple, (“Yes, dear”),

 

You were drinking a tea and on your phone,

While driving with your knees,

You said you had (perfect control),

Except for that awful tree,

 

You didn’t wait as you vowed you’d do,

I don’t want to see your silly grin,

You’ve closed your book one last time,

It’s over, finished, (Amen).

 

For once I got the last word.

Your Words Are Treasures

A woman and a man performing a high five.

Image via Wikipedia

It’s time to clear your mind of clutter,

Of harmful words that you might utter,

Clear the slate of words that sting,

Think of terms that love might bring,

When the air is filled with words of praise,

They warm the nights and soften the days,

Those words build relationships deep,

Forging bonds that your heart will keep,

A base composed of appreciation and trust,

With treasures that won’t break or rust,

Positive words will increase self-worth,

There is a shortage of those on earth,

Those sweet words that build self-esteem,

Are given to you when angels dream,

Your body language and tone of voice,

Can strike fear or give cause to rejoice,

Show mercy to others as given to you,

What goes around, comes around, you know that too,

Let terms of endearment sweeten your tongue,

Let your kindness be legendary, your praises sung,

If respect is given to both young and old,

Your hair might turn silver, but your heart will stay gold,

Encourage others to search for a star,

Give them a boost if they can’t reach that far,

And let them know your heart, tell them you care,

You’ll love them forever, and always be there.