Free Short Story - changed every season (solstice and equinox) - Thanks for your interest!
Because this is an election year, my stacked Haiku and Senryu Collection from last season is posted beneath this story.
Ashes to Ashes
by
Kathleen Spalding
The muggy air brought out the mosquitos in force, making the night as miserable as it could get for a six-year-old runaway.
Franklin swatted a fat blood-sucker, spreading a dark smear along his arm. He took a wad of plantain from his mouth and plastered the chewed weed to the bite. It was almost enough to make him go home. Almost.
To be fair, his stepmother had always treated him kindly; he'd just never had much use for her.
When Daddy brought Anne Marie home last year, Franklin could see how smitten he was by her slim figure, creamy white skin, and auburn curls that framed wide, green eyes. She'd taken over their cabin with a cheerful efficiency, which Franklin considered unnecessary. Life alone with his father had been ideal.
Then the war came, and New Orleans quickly fell to the Union. That spring, Franklin found an ally in Anne Marie. Neither of them wanted his father to leave.
Anne Marie had promised his dad would come home safe and sound. But today she received a letter, and Franklin had spied on her from the loft as she sat at the rough-hewn kitchen table to read it. He'd heard her voice catch in a soft sob, and then turn to cold steel as she muttered in a foreign tongue. Then she touched her finger to the edge of the letter, and it caught on fire! And in that unholy light, Franklin realized why her touch had always felt bony and cold, for the magical light showed Anne Marie's true form.
Indeed, her hands were scarcely more than skeletal. Her beautiful auburn curls dissolved into scraggly iron-gray tufts, and the skin on her face was pulled taught over her skull, but sagged into great wrinkles in the hollows of her cheeks.
Why, oh, why did Daddy have to go off to war and leave Franklin alone with her?
When the letter was reduced to ashes, the hag turned back into Anne Marie. She stepped out the back door, and Franklin stole out of the loft, shimmied down the ladder and slipped out into the front yard.
Standing at the corner of the house, he watched her gather kindling and split logs from the woodpile. He gave her his grudging respect, for he wholeheartedly avoided the woodpile in summer. It was a favorite hiding place for snakes.
Despite the twin threats of snakes and heat stroke, Anne Marie carried several loads of firewood into the kitchen, and soon smoke billowed from the chimney. Franklin visualized the spit standing at the hearth's side, ready to skewer a carcass--a Franklin-sized carcass--and hang it over the coals, to be turned regularly, just like he'd turned the wild boars he and Daddy hunted before the war.
That was when he ran. After living on arrowhead root, crayfish, and reeds through the spring and summer, Anne Marie was hungry for meat, and Franklin just knew the fire was meant for him.
He'd run blindly down his favorite path to the swamp, and hidden beneath vine-covered bushes as the smell of smoke tripped over the landscape. At some point he must have slept, because when he woke up it was night, and a tiny sliver of moon hung directly overhead.
Midnight, then. The witching hour. The perfect time for Anne Marie in her true form. His pitiable thoughts were interrupted by a gurgling from the swamp, and in the faint starlight two dark forms rose up from the shallows. Covered with muck and algae, they strolled toward the cabin.
Curiosity overcame fear, and Franklin followed.
The cabin had no windows, but the front and back doors were wide open. A deep orange glow the color of hot coals lit the interior, and revealed the figures from the swamp to be two old women who were every bit as ancient and diseased-looking as Anne Marie had been that afternoon.
Franklin hung back, out of sight. The hags hugged each other with much weeping and moaning. Then they walked toward the fireplace and disappeared from his view.
He listened to them moan and sing and chant for what seemed like hours, and the smoke rising out of the chimney changed colors and smells and adopted several visceral, beast-like forms. The light inside the cabin faded, and Franklin crept closer and peeked around the door.
Anne Marie stood at the hearth, holding his father's favorite straw hat. The two old women chanted while she looked down at the hat and whispered, "I loved you from the first moment I saw you." She threw it onto the coals that glowed faintly in the hearth, and as the hat charred, its smoke rose, and solidified into a man's form.
The chanting stopped, and Anne Marie threw her arms around the man in the hearth, and then turned to hug the two women. After twittering and tears, the two old women left, never breaking stride as they shuffled past Franklin sitting in the shadow of the porch stairs.
Another form came out of the house. "Good to see you, son."
Franklin's heart raced. "Daddy?"
"I missed you."
Oh Daddy, could it truly be? Did it matter that he appeared from smoke and ashes in the hearth?
"I missed you too, Daddy. I missed you so much!" Strong arms picked him up, and Franklin buried his face in his father's shoulder. He smelled like smoke. Franklin didn't care.
Bony fingers tousled his hair, and Anne Marie gave him a warm smile. Auburn curls hovered around her big green eyes. "See? Home again. Safe and sound."
Franklin smiled. Safe and sound.
The End
In the United States this year, elections will be held Tuesday, November 6th.
In addition to electing our representatives, many states will have ballot initiatives - - a chance for us to affect public policy by ourselves, without the interference of politicians and bureaucracy -- a chance to Make It Right. So please, get out there and vote!
Make It Right
A Haiku and Senryu Collection,
interspersed with supporting facts
The Founding Fathers
gave us tools to make things right,
stop power’s abuse.
Votes, petitions, and
jury nullification
protect our nation.
Blind eyes turn away
from inconvenient truths (and
the life and the way?)
Hemp produces 4 times the cellulose per acre as trees. Hemp seeds are high in protein and essential fatty acids. The first diesel engine was designed to run on hemp oil.
Marijuana is
non-psychoactive hemp for
paper, food, and fuel.
The use of cannabis for purposes of healing predates recorded history. The earliest written reference is found in the 15th century BC Chinese Pharmacopeia, the Rh-Ya. -- NIDA
Marijuana is
one of mankind’s oldest drugs,
efficacy proved.
“A smoker would theoretically have to consume nearly 1,500 pounds of marijuana within about fifteen minutes to induce a lethal response,” Judge Francis Young.
Marijuana is
the recreational high
that cannot kill you.
"You understand what I'm saying? We knew we couldn't make it illegal to be either against the [Vietnam] war or black..." -- John Ehrlichman (President Nixon's aid)
Marijuana has
a scandalous history:
manipulation,
racial suppression,
fact deprived population.
Propaganda won.
[In the late 1930s] Virtually no one in America other than a handful of rich industrialists [DuPont, Hearst, Mellon] and their hired cops knew that their chief potential competitor – hemp – was being outlawed under the name “marijuana.” -- Chapter 4, The Emperor Wears No Clothes by Jack Herer
Prohibition is
founded on corporate greed
and sustained by lies.
"...Did we know we were lying about the drugs? Of course we did." -- John Ehrlichman (President Nixon’s aid)
Government destroys
families, ecology
for profit and lies.
Nearly two-thirds of private prison contracts mandate that state and local governments maintain a certain occupancy rate – usually 90 percent – or require taxpayers to pay for empty beds. - The Washington Post April 28. 2015
FORTY THOUSAND jailed
THREE QUARTERS OF A MILLION
arrested per year
Excessive alcohol use - approx. 88,000 deaths per year; cigarette smoking - over 480,000 deaths per year, in the U.S. -- CDC. No death from overdose of marijuana has been reported. -- DEA
for a substance less
dangerous than alcohol
or tobacco.
Tax dollars wasted:
EIGHT BILLION ANNUALLY
to enforce bad laws
based on lies and greed.
Witness the consequences:
Deforestation,
Global Warming and
Fossil Fuel Economy,
Increased Poverty,
which could disappear,
because marijuana is
raw material
for our daily needs:
a hardy annual plant
that grows everywhere.
Carbon negative,
soil enhancing, nitrogen
fixing, annual plant.
Part of God’s green earth.
Society’s cornerstone
of forgotten worth.
We can make it right,
peacefully smite injustice:
stop power's abuse
with votes, petitions,
jury nullification -
Founding Father's tools.
So get out there and exercise your right to vote this November, especially if there is a marijuana initiative on your ballot!
Even if you think there's not much of a choice, vote for the people who pander to your interests. You will make a statement, and who knows, they might actually follow through if they get to D.C.!
Ashes to Ashes
by
Kathleen Spalding
The muggy air brought out the mosquitos in force, making the night as miserable as it could get for a six-year-old runaway.
Franklin swatted a fat blood-sucker, spreading a dark smear along his arm. He took a wad of plantain from his mouth and plastered the chewed weed to the bite. It was almost enough to make him go home. Almost.
To be fair, his stepmother had always treated him kindly; he'd just never had much use for her.
When Daddy brought Anne Marie home last year, Franklin could see how smitten he was by her slim figure, creamy white skin, and auburn curls that framed wide, green eyes. She'd taken over their cabin with a cheerful efficiency, which Franklin considered unnecessary. Life alone with his father had been ideal.
Then the war came, and New Orleans quickly fell to the Union. That spring, Franklin found an ally in Anne Marie. Neither of them wanted his father to leave.
Anne Marie had promised his dad would come home safe and sound. But today she received a letter, and Franklin had spied on her from the loft as she sat at the rough-hewn kitchen table to read it. He'd heard her voice catch in a soft sob, and then turn to cold steel as she muttered in a foreign tongue. Then she touched her finger to the edge of the letter, and it caught on fire! And in that unholy light, Franklin realized why her touch had always felt bony and cold, for the magical light showed Anne Marie's true form.
Indeed, her hands were scarcely more than skeletal. Her beautiful auburn curls dissolved into scraggly iron-gray tufts, and the skin on her face was pulled taught over her skull, but sagged into great wrinkles in the hollows of her cheeks.
Why, oh, why did Daddy have to go off to war and leave Franklin alone with her?
When the letter was reduced to ashes, the hag turned back into Anne Marie. She stepped out the back door, and Franklin stole out of the loft, shimmied down the ladder and slipped out into the front yard.
Standing at the corner of the house, he watched her gather kindling and split logs from the woodpile. He gave her his grudging respect, for he wholeheartedly avoided the woodpile in summer. It was a favorite hiding place for snakes.
Despite the twin threats of snakes and heat stroke, Anne Marie carried several loads of firewood into the kitchen, and soon smoke billowed from the chimney. Franklin visualized the spit standing at the hearth's side, ready to skewer a carcass--a Franklin-sized carcass--and hang it over the coals, to be turned regularly, just like he'd turned the wild boars he and Daddy hunted before the war.
That was when he ran. After living on arrowhead root, crayfish, and reeds through the spring and summer, Anne Marie was hungry for meat, and Franklin just knew the fire was meant for him.
He'd run blindly down his favorite path to the swamp, and hidden beneath vine-covered bushes as the smell of smoke tripped over the landscape. At some point he must have slept, because when he woke up it was night, and a tiny sliver of moon hung directly overhead.
Midnight, then. The witching hour. The perfect time for Anne Marie in her true form. His pitiable thoughts were interrupted by a gurgling from the swamp, and in the faint starlight two dark forms rose up from the shallows. Covered with muck and algae, they strolled toward the cabin.
Curiosity overcame fear, and Franklin followed.
The cabin had no windows, but the front and back doors were wide open. A deep orange glow the color of hot coals lit the interior, and revealed the figures from the swamp to be two old women who were every bit as ancient and diseased-looking as Anne Marie had been that afternoon.
Franklin hung back, out of sight. The hags hugged each other with much weeping and moaning. Then they walked toward the fireplace and disappeared from his view.
He listened to them moan and sing and chant for what seemed like hours, and the smoke rising out of the chimney changed colors and smells and adopted several visceral, beast-like forms. The light inside the cabin faded, and Franklin crept closer and peeked around the door.
Anne Marie stood at the hearth, holding his father's favorite straw hat. The two old women chanted while she looked down at the hat and whispered, "I loved you from the first moment I saw you." She threw it onto the coals that glowed faintly in the hearth, and as the hat charred, its smoke rose, and solidified into a man's form.
The chanting stopped, and Anne Marie threw her arms around the man in the hearth, and then turned to hug the two women. After twittering and tears, the two old women left, never breaking stride as they shuffled past Franklin sitting in the shadow of the porch stairs.
Another form came out of the house. "Good to see you, son."
Franklin's heart raced. "Daddy?"
"I missed you."
Oh Daddy, could it truly be? Did it matter that he appeared from smoke and ashes in the hearth?
"I missed you too, Daddy. I missed you so much!" Strong arms picked him up, and Franklin buried his face in his father's shoulder. He smelled like smoke. Franklin didn't care.
Bony fingers tousled his hair, and Anne Marie gave him a warm smile. Auburn curls hovered around her big green eyes. "See? Home again. Safe and sound."
Franklin smiled. Safe and sound.
The End
In the United States this year, elections will be held Tuesday, November 6th.
In addition to electing our representatives, many states will have ballot initiatives - - a chance for us to affect public policy by ourselves, without the interference of politicians and bureaucracy -- a chance to Make It Right. So please, get out there and vote!
Make It Right
A Haiku and Senryu Collection,
interspersed with supporting facts
The Founding Fathers
gave us tools to make things right,
stop power’s abuse.
Votes, petitions, and
jury nullification
protect our nation.
Blind eyes turn away
from inconvenient truths (and
the life and the way?)
Hemp produces 4 times the cellulose per acre as trees. Hemp seeds are high in protein and essential fatty acids. The first diesel engine was designed to run on hemp oil.
Marijuana is
non-psychoactive hemp for
paper, food, and fuel.
The use of cannabis for purposes of healing predates recorded history. The earliest written reference is found in the 15th century BC Chinese Pharmacopeia, the Rh-Ya. -- NIDA
Marijuana is
one of mankind’s oldest drugs,
efficacy proved.
“A smoker would theoretically have to consume nearly 1,500 pounds of marijuana within about fifteen minutes to induce a lethal response,” Judge Francis Young.
Marijuana is
the recreational high
that cannot kill you.
"You understand what I'm saying? We knew we couldn't make it illegal to be either against the [Vietnam] war or black..." -- John Ehrlichman (President Nixon's aid)
Marijuana has
a scandalous history:
manipulation,
racial suppression,
fact deprived population.
Propaganda won.
[In the late 1930s] Virtually no one in America other than a handful of rich industrialists [DuPont, Hearst, Mellon] and their hired cops knew that their chief potential competitor – hemp – was being outlawed under the name “marijuana.” -- Chapter 4, The Emperor Wears No Clothes by Jack Herer
Prohibition is
founded on corporate greed
and sustained by lies.
"...Did we know we were lying about the drugs? Of course we did." -- John Ehrlichman (President Nixon’s aid)
Government destroys
families, ecology
for profit and lies.
Nearly two-thirds of private prison contracts mandate that state and local governments maintain a certain occupancy rate – usually 90 percent – or require taxpayers to pay for empty beds. - The Washington Post April 28. 2015
FORTY THOUSAND jailed
THREE QUARTERS OF A MILLION
arrested per year
Excessive alcohol use - approx. 88,000 deaths per year; cigarette smoking - over 480,000 deaths per year, in the U.S. -- CDC. No death from overdose of marijuana has been reported. -- DEA
for a substance less
dangerous than alcohol
or tobacco.
Tax dollars wasted:
EIGHT BILLION ANNUALLY
to enforce bad laws
based on lies and greed.
Witness the consequences:
Deforestation,
Global Warming and
Fossil Fuel Economy,
Increased Poverty,
which could disappear,
because marijuana is
raw material
for our daily needs:
a hardy annual plant
that grows everywhere.
Carbon negative,
soil enhancing, nitrogen
fixing, annual plant.
Part of God’s green earth.
Society’s cornerstone
of forgotten worth.
We can make it right,
peacefully smite injustice:
stop power's abuse
with votes, petitions,
jury nullification -
Founding Father's tools.
So get out there and exercise your right to vote this November, especially if there is a marijuana initiative on your ballot!
Even if you think there's not much of a choice, vote for the people who pander to your interests. You will make a statement, and who knows, they might actually follow through if they get to D.C.!
