All I Want for Christmas

100 words about a Christmas wish; all I want for christmas is you
photo by Tabea 

I know I’ve no right to make demands. I acted like a right selfish cow. I thought, though, I wanted to be free again.

But I’ve been sat here for hours, writing my wish list. All I’ve to show for myself is a page filled with your name.

You know how they say you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone? Yeah, that. Should have seen it coming, right? Should have known that my heart didn’t like the decision to leave you. My head has conceded defeat. They both want you back. I want you back.

Come back.

 

Please.

Christmas Shopping for Strangers

100 words about buying presents for estranged family members
(c) Etol Bagam for FFfAW, week 45

She’s put on her warm coat out of habit. There’s no need, she’ll be stewing in the shops. Drizzly, though. She opens her red umbrella.

Maybe she shouldn’t bother. She sends the parcels tracked, she knows they arrive. Do the clothes fit, she wonders. Do the children like their books and toys? The twins will be teenagers soon, then she’ll really struggle for presents.

It’s not that she demands a thank you. It’d be nice to hear she spends money on the right things. Maybe a card, with a photo.

Because she doesn’t know what her grandchildren look like anymore.

Grinch It

100 words about not looking forward to Christmas
photo by Annie Spratt

’Tis the season to be grateful for supermarket deliveries. She’s not going anywhere unless she has to. The weather outside is frightful; the incessant festive music, despite her attempts to ignore it, will worm itself into her head. And torture her. Music is, like smell, hardwired to memories of excitement that will give her hope despite herself. Happy golden days of yore, retroactively turned into a Technicolor dream. Because if she’s honest, it never was a happy time. Isn’t it why she’s made the decision to grinch it? Low expectations, no disappointment.

‘Merry Christmas,’ says the delivery man.

She nods.

Fooled Again

100 words about a social chameleon
photo by Gareth Newstead 

Chameleon-like, you blend into the party, flit from conversation to conversation.

Always asking question, probing, listening.

Many people talk to you, none remember you a minute later.

Only I watch.

Until it’s my turn to feel the force of your attention and I forget what I’ve witnessed.

Forget the reason I’m here in the first place.

Lie to me, make be believe my anecdotes are funny.

Ask me anything, then hang on my every word.

Give me your full attention. Yes, I’ll wait for you to return.

Eventually, after you’ve gone with what you wanted, I emerge from your spell.

Airport Farewell

100 words about airport goodbyes
photo by Matthew Smith

There’s nothing like watching yourself say goodbye to the man you love at the airport. You’re doing your best to keep it together. He might detect a hint of moisture in your eyes. But your breathing is steady, your voice sounds as usual, your words belie the turmoil you’ve disguised so well.

He says he’ll be back, he has to go home to get a few things in order. You don’t know what things. For all you know, he has a wife there. But who are you to quarrel.

To his back as he walks airside you whisper, ‘Farewell, scoundrel’.

***

If you’re interested in reading about how I keep coming up with ideas, I shed a little light on the process in my second mslexia guest post.

Dont’ Trust the Fruit Bats

100 words about bats and vampires
photo by Saken53 

Simon says they are just fruit bats. I still don’t trust them. Yeah, I do find the little ones kinda cute, despite the yucky eating noises they make.

But pay attention to that big black fella. Doesn’t he just look like he’s trying to put a spell on you through the sheer power of his undead mind? Scary or what!

Simon says I’ve read too many derivative vampire novels. That may be the case, but I’ve made sure I’m armed: garlic, stake, silver cross. Holy water’s on the list.

Simon says I have nothing to worry about since I’m batty.

***

Written for Flash Frenzy round 88, where you’ll find the photo prompt – you have to look at it for the above mentioned big fella in the background, he is scary

Who’s glad there’s no poem today? I’m too busy writing my second mslexia guest post today, no time for poetry.

Over You

100 words about a girl who's hung up on a guy
(c) Sonya, 2010 – here’s a better photo 

It’s such a fine line between art and vandalism.

When you bombed every wall of my soul

– ‘You and I, babe, we’ll last forever’ –

I carried your murals within me,

Ignorant of their power.

Never mind forever, we didn’t last a year.

But you sprayed your tags in indelible ink

And no other guy has found a way to buff them.

They keep burning within me.

At night, when I can’t sleep,

I revisit your words and marvel at their beauty.

How real they seem

When you never ever meant them.

I should have seen you’re quite the con artist.

***

Be honest: Have I stretched the graffiti metaphor too far?

Silly Poem About a Bike

100 words about a stolen bicycle
photo by StockSnap 

Beloved bicycle, where art thou?

Why didst thou leave out of the blue?

Hasten, my precious, return to me,

For without thou I cannot be.

 

Lily puts pictures of her bike on all the lampposts.

She wrote a silly poem to appeal to the thief’s heart

Because she checked how much a new bike costs

And determined she couldn’t afford one, for a start.

She wants hers back, she loves it a lot.

It was a present from a guy she never forgot.

Main reason she remembers him though’s the bike,

So she needs it for memory and mobility alike.

***

I didn’t mean to mash Writing 101: Poetry and FFfAW, but the prompts demanded to be used together. Who am I to put up a fight?

Oh, and if you are interested in what I have to say about writing my 100-word stories, my first mslexia guest post is up today.

A Calorie is a Calorie

100 words about an idiots who know nothing about nutrition
photo by Padurariu Alexandru

Solving the obesity crisis is simple: Make the fatsos eat less. I can do it, so they can, too. Lazy is all they are, sitting on their large backsides all day, stuffing their faces with crisps and bickies. If they had any willpower, they’d have no problem. If they want to keep eating all that junk, they’ll have to exercise. They’d better start training for marathons or something. But instead, they make up all sorts of excuses for their weight gain and blame the food industry for it.

Total BS.

A calorie is a calorie is a calorie, after all.

***

I made the mistake of reading the comments on an article about obesity today. I’ve rephrased the most commonly made arguments above. If I had had a pound for every time I read “a calorie is a calorie”, I would have made a mint. It’s stupid. It’s not even an argument. All anyone proves by saying it is that they haven’t got a clue about nutrition.

This isn’t really a poem, I know. But it’s almost pumpkin time and if I don’t have a post up before midnight, bad things will happen. So you get the idea, but I’ve not had time to play around with words and make it look like it’s poetry…

King of Hearts, Right?

100 words about getting married in Las Vegas
photo by Michal Parzuchowski 

I’m taking a bit of a gamble, but that’s what you go to Vegas for, right?

He surprised me with the trip – I knew we were going away, of course, but I was expecting Eurostaring it to Paris, not a transatlantic flight.

We walked along the Strip last night. I was so overwhelmed by the spectacle that, when he asked me, I said alright.

So all my chips are on him. I’m hoping he’ll turn out to be the king of hearts. He might.

On my way to the Graceland chapel now. Having Elvis perform the ceremony is exciting, right?