The Box

read me

 

I swallowed a secret a million years before numbers, so that nothing could be held accountable.

Scrolled up, jotted down, and shoved to the back of a bottle, the message was almost drowned.

Let me out! Let me out!  A pocketed paper screamed from below.

But when pulled up and rolled out, the ink had smeared rows.

Neither black, nor white, with no crisp lines to write on,

the page merged gray in conviction.

“But what was the secret?”

The question in question has stopped being questioned.

The message was found irresponsible.

The Tooth

tooth

Was she the good one? Or was she the bad one?

 

I stared at the fairy with the floppy head and wondered just how hard Merribelle, the real tooth fairy, had hit her. Floppy Fairy had one eye closed, as if sewn in place with a purposeful vengeance. It was the wink of a cruel joke.

Even if she wasn’t dead, there was no way she could practice her tooth ferrying. I doubted her ability to fly. One wing was slightly crooked and sticking out at odd angles.

She was probably a good fairy. The kind who was never young and always kind. She probably gave children whole dollar bills instead of the dimes Merribelle doled out. Her voice was probably as small as a cotton ball, soft and beautiful forever.

It was her rich and rewarding happiness that Merribelle hated most. The way she always seemed to feel better than anyone had a right to feel. This was the sensation Merribelle tried to steal when she knocked the other fairy to her demise.

But because Merribelle won, because she became the tooth fairy, her generosity was never considered cheap. Dimes are a fortune when dollars are dreams. Like all winners of a game, Merribelle became the fair, the just, the champion.

Merribelle was the good one.

http://www.circleid.com/posts/20170111_history_is_written_by_winners_can_internet_archive_change_that/

The Answering Machine

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“Hey, you got me, but you didn’t really get me. Leave a message at the beep.”

You can get back home through the telephone wires. From city to suburb, follow the skinny black lines until your voice is my voice and our voice is here.

 

“Hey, you got me, but you didn’t really get me. Leave a message at the beep.”

Pick up. Where do you live now? Do you like your job? Who are you with?

Every now and again, your machine is full. Too many voices trying to get in. They push and they shove, but they stand just to wait.

I know, you’ll call me when you can.

 

“Hey, you got me, but you didn’t really get me. Leave a message at the beep.”

Do power lines still map the way if only cell phones are used? Invisible pathways going in a million different directions scatter the world apart.

Misplaced conversations. Lost words looking for a sentence.

Face focused on the front of the phone.

 

“This number is no longer in service.”

 

 

 

 

Redesigning Voice Mail :  The UX of the Missed Call

A Woman

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Rules For Using A Woman

Before 40 years of age:

  • Always refer to a woman as ‘sweetheart’, ‘dear’, or ‘Miss’. Even if you don’t know her. This will make her feel delicate and soft spoken. If she tries to tell you otherwise, call her something else.
  • Talk about her legs/weight/appearance even when she can hear you. She will most likely think this is a compliment since a man is giving her attention.
  • Tell her she is beautiful, but do not compliment any other aspect of herself.
  • Allow her to work in the same positions men fill, but don’t bother to pay equally. She will be grateful enough for the experience.
  • If a woman does not want to have children with you, remind her that it is the most important thing she can ever do in her lifetime.
  • When seeing an attractive woman in the workplace, on the street, at a party, or virtually anywhere you happen to be, don’t hesitate to grab her by the pussy.

After 40 years of age:

  • Expired

Donald Trump Once OK’d Howard Stern Calling Daughter Ivanka a ‘Piece of Ass’

The Gold Medal

https://mytrendingstories.com/article/the-dating-profile-of-a-gold-medal/

Hello readers,

I am currently writing for the Trending Stories website that is linked above. I will be writing various articles there that I may post on here.  This is a test run to see if it’s working properly on the site.  I hope it is!

winner-1548239_1280

 

Name: Goldie

 

Age: Timeless

 

Ideal Partner:  Someone with ambition and loyalty.  Someone who loses like a winner.  Someone who shows up.

 

Ideal Date:  Hanging out in your bedroom.

 

My Biggest Life Question:  Am I worthy enough?

 

Favorite Quote:  “Everyone’s A Winner”

 

Contact me:

If: You’re a winner

At: The dollar store (next to the costume jewelry)

The Wood Stove

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I once had a fire in me that could not be contained. I knew no boundaries. I knew no limits. I knew only of energy that burned.

There were no rules. I could go anywhere. Through the mountains. Into the forest. Past the villages and under the leaves. I could spark interest in anything.

People talked and my flames became more vibrant from conversation. “Did you see the scarlet colors?” “Did you feel the warm glow?” I was a thing of dangerous beauty that I thought could only beam brighter.

But then one day I burned the earth. I wasn’t paying attention. I turned to radiate my astonishing brilliance, but the grass had already died. I fled to the trees to show them my passion, but they had already bent over backwards in ruins with dissatisfaction. I turned to the towns, to the cities, to the houses of my comfort, but they had crumbled gray, like an eraser.

I ran to the edge of the earth and straight for the ocean.

“You have nowhere else to go,” the waves taunted.

I turned around. A few miles away, stood one small cabin that I had previously overlooked. Cautiously. Carefully. Slowly I approached its window.

Inside the one room cabin, there was a wood stove, fat and dusty with age.

From outside I shouted, “I have burned everything. I have nowhere else to go.”

Immediately, the wood stove opened up its door.

“Thank God you’re here. I’ve been waiting for so long.”

 

The Phone

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 Disconnected

 

1:23 PM Cute Teacher: Hi Peter – I hope this is the right number. I wanted to say again, how nice it was to speak with you at the PTA meeting. I think, however, I’m going to pass on dinner until your daughter is no longer in my class.

 

 

1:23 PM: I understand completely. I hope I wasn’t too forward.

 

 

1:24 PM Cute Teacher: No, not at all. I’m concerned about your daughter though.

 

 

1:25 PM: What’s wrong?

 

 

1:25 PM Cute Teacher: She has been picking at her nails.

 

 

1:26 PM: LOL Most little kids pick at their nails.

 

 

1:26 PM Cute Teacher: No – She picks at them until all her fingers are bloody.

 

 

1:30 PM Cute Teacher: I know you’re going through a tough divorce, does she have anyone to talk to?

 

 

1:32 PM: There’s nothing to talk about.

 

_

 

2:46 PM 1-434-896-3389: Mom! I can’t believe it! I’m about to get on the plane, but I wanted to tell you before it hit Facebook: Jason proposed to me!!!

 

 

2:47 PM 1-434-896-3389: Ooops, I’m sorry! I think I texted the wrong #.

 

 

2:49 PM: You did, but congratulations!

 

 

2:50 PM 1-434-896-3389: Thanks!!!

 

 

2:51 PM: Don’t listen to what they tell you.  I’ve been married to my college sweetheart for 24 years. Best decision I ever made.

 

 

2:51 PM 1-434-896-3389: That’s so sweet!!! How do you guys do it?

 

 

3:04 PM: A lot of  divorced couples will tell you that marriage is just a lot of work. It ‘s always wonderful between my wife and I though. When you love someone that much, you never contemplate splitting up.

 

 

3:05PM 1-434-896-3389: Did you ever fight about the future?

 

 

3:10PM: Never. Love grows with family.

 

 

3:11PM 1-434-896-3389: I know what you mean. Our family will never be broken.