Last Laugh

I didn’t know then, I guess seldom ever do
It would be the last kiss between me and you

Fate or irony, a twist in the stars
In twenty years time, your best by far

Walking in to dinner, under a cloud of stars
We made a deal as we left the car

A kiss from me whose depth you choose
In exchange for wearing my too-tall shoes

First man in heels I’ve kissed, quite probably my last
Thanks for the laugh.

But I didn’t consent just to make you my fool or save sore feet
Rather to create a space where pain and grace meet

Then:
Beseeching prayer from your lips, “End this drought.”
Like Moses seeing the Promised Land, before God took him out

One step toward you, forgiveness... again
The next several hours: what might have been

Let’s stay the night, let’s stay together
Under our old palm tree, reclaim forever

We drove back home instead
No reason but cheaper beds

In the morning, call me fake
And the biggest mistake
You
Ever
Did
Make

All Hell breaks loose from those praying lips, angry lies you wish me to buy
It would be easier to be hit with your fists, than trying to understand why

Such venom, from nowhere, hate fanned into flame
Love is longsuffering, but it also does not maim

I turn to go, one final wave
Thanks for the laughs and this early grave.

The Artist’s Way Contract

I believe I can succeed in this course...as long as I get to make my own rules. 

Writeriffic Lesson 6 Assignment: Newspaper

WHEW!  I had several story ideas based on articles  (which I may continue to develop) but I ran with this one that came from a homework session at my local MIDTOWN DELI. Each section of the day's paper was at a different table and being read by a vast array of characters. Yet we were all under one roof, reading about what was happening in our little town... 

Initially I had 700 some odd words. I let it cool and fought dismay as my word count initially went up, not down. 

Two painful character cuts later, I made the 300 mark. 

I am submitting that version and then returning to my drafts to invite those two characters back into my diner while I shine the tables up a bit.

::ASSIGNMENT POSTED BELOW::

THE MILLCREEK MALLARD: SATURDAY EDITION 

Sports & Weather lay abandoned on the table nearest the window. Grant had placed the paper over his laptop like some kind of theft deterrent when he left to reckon with the coffee he’d been drinking all morning. Not that anyone here would steal. He knew that, and somewhere deep-down, he knew it was himself he hoped to hide under that paper-thin shield. What would folks in Millcreek think when they read how much he’d stolen from them? 

~

Sitting upright, Jen resisted the chair’s embrace where she perched. Flipping swiftly through Lifestyles, she paused to wring the last drops of Earl Grey into her cup. Clipping one of the hundreds of announcements due to be printed this weekend wouldn’t change anything, but clipping this one may slow the avalanche. Jim, who understood half the town got their news from his one, coffee-splashed paper, had graciously agreed to her maiming of the diner’s copy. He brought scissors with her tea, and she noticed, a pastry she hadn’t ordered. Jen smiled to herself, “Consolation croissant”.  

~

Ed and Mary split the Comics and sipped their coffee, his half milk and full of sugar, hers slick black. At 65, Mary still went straight to SlyLock Fox. She solved the mystery before Ed was ready to trade. He preferred to read from first square to last; no skipping the boring strips, either.  Mary sipped her coffee and smiled at Jim as she waited for Ed to finish . 

~

Jim wiped the tables and shuffled the scattered paper back into one packet. With a satisfied nod, he cut the lights and locked the door.

 He loved his little corner of Millcreek and the people who shared their lives with him. As he walked home, Jim whistled up towards the clouds… 

“The sun will come out tomorrow…”