give thanks · prayer · short story · Thanksgiving · writing

Circle Round

Turkey sat at the head of the beautifully-decorated table. He paused for a moment and smiled at everyone seated with him.

Then he reached out and joined hands with the Stuffing who in turn picked up Deviled Eggs hand who then clasped hands with Mashed Potatoes (whose new little one Gravy slept pressed against her chest).

Since Mashed Potatoes had her other hand full, her wife Green Bean Casserole picked up hands with Dinner Roll who reached out and picked up Weird Jello Salad’s hand who smiled and joined hands with her new husband, Relish Tray, who then picked up Old Man Pumpkin Pie’s hand who then gave a kiss to his wife of 50 years, Cool Whip, as he took her sweet soft wrinkled hand.

Grandma Cool Whip then closed the circle as she joined hands with Turkey.

They said their prayer to Mother Earth, thanking her for the bountiful blessings in their lives including this day that they were sharing together.

Then they looked at the loaded table which held massive amounts of sushi, Dominos pizza, ice cream, cotton candy and doughnuts.

And they ate.

Like pigs.

Til their stomachs were stretched and uncomfortable and they needed Turkey to go out to Walgreens to get some Tums.

The End.

short story · The Rockefeller Tree · writing

Escape from New York

The Rockefeller Christmas tree stood tall in the lights of the big city in the middle of a cold night.

Sore from having branches added to his body and lights wrapped around him and a huge-ass electric star planted on his head, he had read the news stories about how everyone was making fun of him because he didn’t look superstar perfect.

“I’m a damn tree,” he thought to himself as a cool wind curled through him trying to offer a bit of comfort. “Nature doesn’t screw with what it looks like. We’re perfect as is. Only the human douchebags work so hard to change
themselves so they’ll look perfect…whatever perfect looks like.”

He sighed and looked up to see the stars.

He couldn’t see a single one. Not even the Swarovski one on top of his head.

He instantly felt homesick for his forest.

“I don’t want to die here,” Tree thought.

A few seconds ticked by as he listened to the wind. Something clicked inside.

“I’m gonna get out of here,” he decided.

He began to tremble and shake his trunk and branches as hard as he could, managing to shimmy off the spikes and break the giant wires that had held him prisoner.

Passersby froze in their tracks at the sight of the tree making a break for it.

They started shouting for him to come back as he bounced as fast as he could on his trunk down the street like a coniferous pogo stick.

The people began to chase him.

Panicked, he bounced faster, needles and cones and lights and his man-made star falling off. His heart raced as he sweated sap, trying his very best.

As the frenzied crowd began to catch up, he felt himself growing tired. How was an old ginormous spruce ever going to make it out of this place? By then, police and fire engine sirens pierced his ears and obscured his vision. Local news helicopters flew in circles overhead. People on the street surrounded him, jumping to grab and restrain him.

Tree was exhausted and broken. His strength was all but gone. For being such an imperfect tree, the humans sure didn’t want him to go. He was undoubtedly going to be taken right back to the stage he had been chained to and mocked from.

Tears sprang to his eyes as he looked back up to see if he could see the stars just one last time.

And what he saw when he did, he couldn’t believe.

Flying toward him as fast as he could was the baby saw-whet owl who stowed away inside him on their fateful journey to The Big Apple. Following behind were hundreds of birds who broke out of the Ravensworth Wildlife Center for the night, just to help Baby Owl rescue his friend.

“Whoooo!! Whooo!” Baby Owl hooted as he held his wings out wide and lowered his talons to grab and lift Tree into the air.

“Baby Owl!!” Tree cried, pogo-sticking mightily with all he had left.

And all the other birds grabbed on to his tired branches and lifted Tree into the sky, rising high above the city.

The humans stood speechless as they watched them float above the buildings, then zoom away into the night.

The cool wind changed direction to help with the getaway.

Tree cried happy tears as Baby Owl nuzzled his needles once again.

“Thank you, Baby Owl,” said Tree.

“Whooo. Whooo!” Baby Owl hooted back.

Then they made like bats out of hell.

As Tree enjoyed the peaceful flight, he felt his tension drift away. Tree glanced at the sky again.

He saw stars. Millions of them.

And in that perfect moment, he whispered,

“I’m going home.”

God · Goddess · John Bonham · just for fun · Led Zeppelin · Moby Dick · Satan · short story

Date with the Devil

God sat in his chair at the helm of his spaceship. In front of him, through the window, not too far away, sat Earth. But he took no notice of the planet, for he was immersed in a game of Scrabble on his phone. His friend Ganesh was kicking his ass once again.

“Where’s Satan?” Ganesh texted.

“No idea,” God texted back. “Probably having a way more exotic evening than we are.”

Just then, the door to his office opened. God began to shuffle from his slouched position deep in his chair, but his old bones slowed the process. Besides, his visitor was already upon him.

The Goddess bent over next to him, her lean and attractive body brushing against his just a little. Her long black curly hair fell in a gorgeous drape as she cocked her head to look at him sideways as he slumped in his chair.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

“Hi,” she said back.

He sat up and looked at what she was doing to his control board.

“What are you…” he began, but her perfect black-polished fingertip was already on the “Winter Off” button for the northern hemisphere.

She clicked it “On”. Then she stood back up.

He twisted in his chair and took a good look at his gorgeous wife. She was all dolled up, wearing a denim miniskirt, black platform boots and a cut up Led Zeppelin t-shirt.

“I don’t know what the hell you’ve been doing up here,” she said. “but if I have to take one more call from Ohio about how damn cold it is there for May, I’m going to flip my shit.”

She was so pretty, and she was so irritated.

He was guilty. He knew it.

“I’m sorry, babe.”

She rolled her eyes and tapped her foot like she was still mad.

“You look gorgeous,” he told his girl. “Why are you all done up? What are you getting into?”

“John Bonham is playing in town tonight. I told you this. Satan bought us tickets months ago.”

Ohhhh. Now he remembered. His best friend and his wife had bonded over a love for Zeppelin way back when the band first exploded on the scene on Earth. Of course…that show was tonight.

“Ganesh and I were wondering where Satan was.”

“Ha”, she said, smiling slightly. “Well, that man actually likes to get out of his chair and off his phone every now and then. You know…live a little.”

Just then they heard the giant roar of an engine and the song Moby Dick blasting at a million decibels outside.

God looked out the window.

Satan was standing there, next to his bad-ass shiny black 1977 Corvette Stingray with the fire lick painted detail on the car’s sides. He was dragging on a cigarette with one hand and flipping his old buddy the bird with the other.

God laughed.

“Your date is here.”

The Goddess gave her husband a quick peck on the lips then went for the door.

“Don’t wait up for me,” she called out.

“All right, baby,” he said. “Tell Bonzo I said hi. Love you!”

God looked out his giant window again and watched as his wife and Satan stood with their arms around each other posing for a selfie. Then she climbed into the passenger seat and he shut the door. The Dark Lord turned back to God one more time, threw up devil horns to his buddy, got in his car, then they flew off like two bats out of hell.

God sighed and slumped back into his chair.

Ganesh had texted, “Where’d you go?”

The creator of the universe looked down at his tiles. He couldn’t believe what he saw.

He clicked them up and laid them down, one by one.

D O U C H E

Ganesh texted, “LOL. Good one.”

The End 🙂