Tag Archives: #vss

Jack the Fruit – (a flash in under 500 words – not including the title)

Jack was a fruit.

Not a specific fruit,

like an Orange, Apple, or Pear;

or a rare fruit,

such as a Physalis, Durian

or the Mighty Horned Cucumber;

he wasn’t even a Tomato – which is a fruit.

Jack was ‘all’ fruits,

though not all at once,

for that would certainly be a fruit cocktail to confuse.

One Monday, last month, Jack had been a Lemon. The next day he was a Gooseberry; and this caused quite some confusion.

Jack the Lemon had had a lovely chat with Sally Strawberry; when he met Sally on Tuesday, she didn’t recognise him – for he was now Jack the Gooseberry. This caused problems for Jack and embarrassment all around.

Sometimes, when Jack was nervous, he would change fruits ‘during’ the day – and occasionally more than once – talking with Bella Banana had been the worst, Jack had changed into a Banana, and Bella had fallen for the unexpected stranger in her life, although she preferred Jack the Plum, but he had seemingly left the building – a Shoe Shop – and was never heard of again.

Finally, Jack was found close to tears, having lost the friendship of Bella Banana, Cindy Cherry, and Polly Peach all within a week.

Archie Apple saw a Lime in a corner that seemed to be crying and almost sobbing in despair.

“What is wrong, Friend Lime?” asked Archie.

Between sobs and tears, Jack the Lime answered, 

“I keep on changing from fruit to fruit, and I can’t keep a steady relationship. One day I’m a Prune Plum, the next day I’m a Manila Mango!”

The tears fell down Jack’s face and started pooling around him, creating himself as his own island.

“Listen… I didn’t catch your name?” said Archie.

“Jack.” said the woeful Lime.

“Listen, Jack; all I can say is be yourself, and perhaps wear this T-Shirt that I fortuitously found just over there.” he pointed. “It looks about your size.”

Archie handed the T-Shirt to Jack.

“It’s a magical T-Shirt that stops the wearer from changing into a different species, be it animal, mineral or vegetable. Or fruit.” 

Archie smiled benignly.

“Actually, Jack, I am your fairy godmother – I knitted you that T-Shirt myself.”

Jack popped the T-Shirt on and went to look at himself in a nearby mirror.

“Do I have to wear this always?” asked Jack.

“If you wear it three days running, it will be upon you forever, and you will stay as that fruit until the end of fruit days. So, this means that you can choose which fruit you’d like to be.” Archie disappeared in a puff of smoke – as fairy godmothers tend to do.

“Archie had stopped crying. He knew which fruit he would like to be. And all he had to do was put his magical T-Shirt on the next time that he became that fruit.

It couldn’t be that long before he was a lemon again, could it.

And Sally Strawberry might still be waiting for him.

Sunday (written on a Monday)

Sunday awoke sullenly – then faded badly.

Short-changed?!

You may feel

a little short-changed

if you

tried

to read

my last post.

But, please be aware,

that not all that glisters is not gold;

that aphorism is good to hold

on to…

And if you can,

please do.

Nothing to see here

The Dandelion and the lonely Mouse

One fine day,

towards the end of May,

Mouse was just wandering lonely,

‘like a cloud’ thought Mouse,

when all at once she spied

a Dandelion.

‘When is a lion

not a lion?’ asked Mouse,

of no-one in particular.

‘When it is a Dandelion.’

came a voice from above.

‘What is a ‘Dandelion?’

asked Mouse, ‘if it pleases you to tell me’ –

for Mouse was a very polite mouse.

‘I, am a dandelion.’ said the voice.

‘As any young mouse should know.’

Mouse looked up at the golden flower,

marvelling at the beauty.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Mouse, ‘but I never went to Mouse School, and so I don’t know many things.’

‘Ah!’ said the Dandelion, ‘I never went to school, either; but, I talk to all the creatures

that pass by, and learn about the wide world from them.’

‘I don’t know any creatures, and nobody ever talks to me.’ said Mouse sadly – a tear in her eye..

‘I am talking to you’, said the Dandelion, ‘and I can be your friend. I will tell you of all the things that I have been told.’

Mouse looked up at Dandelion, with a different tear in her eye. ‘Could you? Would you? That would be so nice of you.’

Dandelion looked fondly at the Mouse, ‘I am only here for a short time – much shorter than your time will be – so I shall firstly tell you the names of all the birds and other creatures of flight, the insects, flowers, and the growing things that are nearby, then you can say hello to them by their names, and they will also talk to you.’

‘Thank you.’ said Mouse.

And the lesson began.

Grace Darling

Mother?

What is it, Grace, darling?

What sort of bird are we?

I think that we are called, ‘starlings’, my dear.

Oh.

Is there a problem, Grace?

No. I just wanted to grow up and be a kingfisher.

Ah, the fisher king – such a fine colouring, almost as beautiful as yours, Grace.

Beautiful? I am a dull shade of slate grey.

Not when you are in the sunlight, Grace; then you are without doubt the most beautiful of all birds.

Really?

Definitely.

The A to Z Prompts

The A to Zeds,

that were in my heads,

were all written

with little thought.

I ought to have seen

that they lacked for nought;

like the finest wine

from the vineyard bought(

or the rarest word

so fanatically sought;

but, they just wrote themselves

with the words from my brainial shelves,

so that what you got

was not a lot.

Would that I could—

Would that I could

write pure, unadulterated poetry;

but, it is beyond me.

Far, far, beyond;

over the hills

and far, far away;

and, also, not something

that I care to do.

But, I could…

if I wanted to,

but, I do not want

to float like a cloud,

compare thee to a bee,

or charge happily

into the valley of death,

That’s so old hat,

and I am not one for old hats,

and that’s the truth –

I have the attributes of youth—

okay, so I make stuff up,

that is my cup.

Where did you think that was going?

I write this, and I had no way of knowing.

Over the hills, and…

“Over the Hills?”

“No, I’ll never get over them.”

.

This is the sort of thing that I write –

and it’s perfectly alright.

To my mind, anyway.

Stream-of-Consciousness like –

an Orange Tip butterfly

has just checked me out,

I doubt he (for it was a male)

could work out

quite what he did see.

One of the ‘Hoomans’

tapping at a small box.

BTW if you translate.

‘The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog’

into another language,

it doesn’t work in the way it was intended.

‘Léim an sionnach donn mear thar an madra leisciúil’

for instance.

See, it no longer works.

And if you translated that into Turkish…

‘Hızlı kahverengi tilki tembel köpeğin üzerinden atladı’

the Turks would tell you

that that doesn’t work either.

And if we translate ‘that’ back into English…

‘The fast brown fox jumped over the lazy dog’

This will tell you

that there is something fundamentally wrong

with the world.

Or me.

Or both.

Now, where was I…?

Now, what’s going on here?

What is occurring?

Happening?

What thing?

Wild thing?

There should be a law against it!

There is?

Oh! Well, that’s alright then.

When did that happen?

Oh! A long time ago…

and far away…

sounds like a story’s coming on.

Is there a pot of gold,

and a rainbow,

Unicorns, water nymphs?

Have I strayed from the point?

Well, it’s what I do –

don’t you?

Now… what ‘is’ going on here?