for providing “The Drunkard on Calle Pepe Llanos” for our writing prompt.
John Lightle is a Texas writer, poet, and photographer who spends many hours sitting on his woodpile contemplating. When away from his frame shop, he schleps his artwork among area art shows. The job takes him across the countryside, occasionally overseas, photographing the quiet resolve found within the golden hours.
He decided to check on his wife on the way for a refill. She smiled and said "hello Mr Pavarotti". The last time this had happened he had been singing an opera all the way home. This was her cue that he had had enough booze.
My mother said, “Don’t correct people, even when they’re absolutely wrong. It’s not your job to fix everyone,” she said, “or make everything perfect.”
“Mind your own damn business, sweetheart. I know it’s tough to keep our mouths shut sometimes, but peace is almost always more important than being right.”
The wise maiden- ( Fiction )
The party was boisterous.
He decided to check on his wife on the way for a refill. She smiled and said "hello Mr Pavarotti". The last time this had happened he had been singing an opera all the way home. This was her cue that he had had enough booze.
MOMSCHOOL - prose poem
My mother said, “Don’t correct people, even when they’re absolutely wrong. It’s not your job to fix everyone,” she said, “or make everything perfect.”
“Mind your own damn business, sweetheart. I know it’s tough to keep our mouths shut sometimes, but peace is almost always more important than being right.”
"Roads"--Fiction
“Two roads diverged in a wood,
and I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
To take the travelled road is to let others choose your path. There is comfort and security in that, but not much else. That’s a lot, but not enough.
My goodness! What a gorgeous photo, John Lightle! Red, ochre, blue, and black. It could not have been more perfect if you'd designed it!
BLINDNESS CNF, Poem
you offered so much
but such a bad fit
you never looked
to see what I loved
too busy with the practical
and what others thought
would be best
to build a life
you could have been
my very best friend
you proved 2+2=4
and kept me from the cosmos
Twist (fiction)
“Here’s the deal”, he rasped, nicotine-stained fingers tapping his cards. “Take back your stake, walk away, no harm done, young fella”.
“Yeah right, old man”, the hustler snarled, splaying his hand. Three Kings.
Silence.
His arthritic fingers ached but he started turning over Aces. “I tried to warn you, kid”.