Optimal Methods For Neutralizing Grief

The world is stricken! Stricken, I say, with global grief! The word on the tweet is nothing but he slammed so-n-so and he bashed such-n-such. Misery’s harmony is warped and worn out, and the world is sick to death of that lame old song. The Black Death killed fewer people, for goddsakes! Everybody needs some grief counselling. Well, here you go:

Feed a soul, starve a narcissist!

The direction the affliction is headed is clear, and that means it’s time for a different tack. There are plenty of things happening in our communities that are more worthy of attention than the Fee-Fi-Fo-Fiefdom in Washington. If media is supposed to give a voice to the people, then it’s time to get outside and explore the good stuff going on with the people. If it’s cold where you are, put on a jacket first.

Here’s what’s happening over at Friday Fictioneers this week, where image meets imagination. Sometimes they fall in love. Sometimes they don’t. One thing is for certain, people are sharing good stuff. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields makes sure of it. This week’s photo prompt is courtesy of Roger Bultot. My 100 word story is a tale of a sad sack in need of a night out. Names were not used in order to protect the innocent. Thanks for reading.

roger-bultot-flowerCopyright Roger Bultot

A Wallflower’s Window on the World

Another gloomy afternoon, another strained ballad of mistrust and disgust wafts from the room below. Harsh reflections slide on long shadows toward another night alone, watching bits of cellophane dance along the alleyway where the addicts mingle. A slow betrayal of mind and body provokes a longing for those sepia toned days when life was still a mystery, before the weather and world affairs conspired repeatedly to wrench the senses. Only now, as memory fails, does the pain relent, a tender mercy. “Always trust the trees,” my father told me. “They never lie.” If only I could see some trees.

*****

47 thoughts on “Optimal Methods For Neutralizing Grief

    1. Thanks, Dawn. Just keepin’ it real. It truly is time for a different tack.

      “The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails.” ― William Arthur Ward

  1. Poignant and melancholy, Steph; this piece really captures a deeper sense of tension in the world. “If only I could see some trees…” Love this. The forest for the trees… too. Wonderful! xo

  2. I agree I loved the language in this piece. I got lost in your words. I for one don’t like cities, give me land with trees over bustling crowds and cookie cutter stores.

  3. Yes, those sepia-toned days really were the best … and it’s funny because our parents didn’t seem to think so at the time! We were too busy being kids without responsibilities.
    Speaking of being a kid, the clip is great! It is narrated by my heroes … Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy! I heard Mortimer Snerd in there, too.

        1. W.C. Fields always said to Charlie things like, “Well, well, Charles McCarthy, my termites flophouse.”
          Charlie would respond with something like, “Well, well, W.C Fields, my BOOZE-em companion.” 😀

    1. Couldn’t resist using the buffoon buffet to offset the gripping powerlessness of the Wallflower’s mood. It’s how I get myself to snap out of it. I refuse to give my precious energy to feed narcissistic tactics, both drastic and unnecessary, that serve no one but the sycophants around the table.

  4. Beautifully written prose, Honie. But I guess I fell in love with the preramble in which you aptly described FFF, “where image meets imagination. Sometimes they fall in love. Sometimes they don’t.”

    I’m giving you 10 extra bonus points this week. Well done.

    1. Winner! Winner! Chicken Dinner! Russell, every word that shows up from you makes me smile. Thanks, it poured into my keyboard this morning after I got off the phone with my dad. He’s inspiring like that. He enjoys reading my posts. Shout out to my dad.

  5. ““Always trust the trees,” my father told me. “They never lie.” If only I could see some trees.”
    I really love those line.
    (and the wood chair creaks beneath her – trying to get her attention – whispering “we’re here”…)

    1. I’m so glad you like that line. My father actually said those words to me this morning when we were discussing the approach (or not) of Spring. He is a wise one, that father o’ mine. Happy Groundhog’s Day! I also like your add on about the creaking chair. Nice.

      1. Honie, a little short story for a post is dancing around my head….could I use some of your Wallflower’s words and your dad’s quote if I use ” ” and link to/credit you and your story?
        It may or may not complete itself. But you jump-started an idea and seeing where but goes.
        Please let me know (my wallflower/chair mentor is in a bit more dangerous situation). It would be a blended effort if it gels
        Thanks

        1. Absolutely.
          Edited: I know that was a curt answer, but I was responding from my phone, in my the car (passenger seat), in the dark, without my glasses on. Safe at home, yes, feel free to carry that muse wherever it wishes to go.

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