Cannibals!

PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast  

“What on Earth!” exclaimed Zing, horrified.

“Wait and see. It may not be as bad as it looks,” reasoned Zang.

The two aliens, invisible on the deep windowsill, enjoyed the warm kitchen. They watched as the woman flattened some brownish matter with a wooden roller, using pre-formed cutters to create shapes. She hummed as she worked, popping those shapes into a hot oven.

Children burst into the room, cheeks rosy from the out-of-doors. “Cookies! Can we have one?”

“After you decorate them,” smiled the woman.

“So they aren’t roasted humans,” Zang said. “You can relax.”

Image result for cute aliens

Guiding Light

@DaleRogerson

Zing and Zang had been away from Earth, called back to their home planet of Zirkon to be debriefed and enjoy some Zirkonian R&R.

They rapidly descended toward their old neighborhood.

“Ugh!” exclaimed Zing. “It’s still winter, and it’s going to be SO cold! They could have waited a bit and sent us back when the weather was better!

“Don’t start! You’re always complaining! At least they left a light on for us, and it will be warm in the house.”

In silence, they came to rest and went inside.

“Maybe you should request a new partner.”

“Maybe I should.”

Image result for cute aliens

Come!

PHOTO PROMPT © Liz Young

“Come!” whispered the voice of a siren. “You know you want to! Come, explore, enjoy, relax. . . your future is here with us!”

Curiosity outweighed fear. She took one step forward, focusing on the arch at the far side of the circle. Dark, velvety, warm, beckoning. . . .

“Yesssss, that’s right! You won’t regret it! Come, come. We love you! We’ll treasure you! We understand you! Come!”

A shiver rolled over her body from head to toe, pimpling her skin as it passed. She hesitated, feeling the pull of those arches; feeling the chill in her soul.

“Come!” She sensed the evil, too late.

Lonely

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

Jem’s feet pressed into the cold, hard sand. He watched the sun inch down gloriously behind the clouds. He would watch daily until he could no longer stand upright, or use the steps.

He’d built the steps years ago, when he’d first landed. Tore his little dinghy apart, used the boards and nails. The steps were rickety, but kept him out of the way of the daily tides. Using the tools from the boat, he’d erected a shelter of sorts. Hunted for food. Found fresh water.

Over time, he learned there is no loneliness like forever alone.

Wanna Bet?

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

“No way, man.”

“Yes way. Wanna bet? You lose, you buy lunch. I lose, I buy. But I won’t lose.”

“Running start, halfway down the hall, you turn around, lob it over your shoulder into the box at the bottom.”

“Yup. You call ‘ready.’

“Ready, set, GO!”

Cam, holding the ball between his thumb and first two fingers, loped down the hall to the midpoint, dance-turned on his toes, and lobbed the ball. It arced, dropped, and settled into the box. Plunk. Done.

“Dude. That’ amazing!” breathed Zeke. ‘

Grinning, Cam replied, “Talent, man. Pure talent. What’s for lunch?”

_________________________

I have to give credit where it’s due. I just saw this video on my news feed. Really amazing stuff 🙂 When you click on the link, you’ll get a message that it’s unavailable. No worries. Just click the “view on Facebook” option )

https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FDudePerfect%2Fvideos%2F178925523615949%2F&show_text=0&width=560

Winter Roses

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

“It’s a misnomer, you know.”
“What is?”

“Blooming roses and winter. Snow. Ice. It’s just wrong.”

“So which do you not like? Roses, or winter?”

“I love roses. I don’t mind winter. I just don’t think they belong together.”

“Well, relax. Those roses won’t be likely to survive the freeze. They’ll be black and dead tomorrow.”

“That’s sad.”

“It’s life. You know what? I think maybe YOU are the one who’s a misnomer!”

“What? Why?”

“Your name is Joy.”

Creepy

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

“Hey, Sal, here’s a hot one for ya!” hollered Roger as he slid the plastic tub down the line.

Sal glanced, shivered. “Creepers, I hate it when people do this. Sending cremains by the mail is just freaky! Glad I don’t have to touch the box. Hey, Roger, you know anything about this?”

“What? What do you mean? What kind of question is that?” Rogers eyes went wide and bloodshot.

“Hey, relax, man. Settle down. It was just a curious question!”

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” Roger went back to sorting, an oddly twisted grin on his lips.

Mountain Railroad

PHOTO PROMPT © Alicia Jamtaas

Annie sat quietly in the back seat. It had been a long, dull journey across the plains, and she was indulging her imagination to help pass the time.

As they passed a rare grove of trees and undergrowth, Annie spied a railroad track floating above the brush. She watched until it was too far behind them to see.

Turning around to face forward, she said, “Mommy, is that what the song is about?”

“What song, Annie?”

“You know, the one about life and a mountain railroad.” Annie began to hum.

Under/Over

PHOTO PROMPT © Trish Nankivell

“Under!”

“Over!”

“Under!”

“Oh good grief. This is not worth arguing about. It’s easier to reach when it’s coming over the top. If you want to dig for it, then put it the other way. I’ll change it every time!”

“I’m going to get you a cat.”

“I don’t want a cat.”

__________________________

The cat stood on the toilet seat and pawed the toilet paper–from the top–into a tangled mess.

“I TOLD you I didn’t want a cat!”

“I told YOU to hang the TP so it comes from UNDER the roll.”

“That was before the stupid cat. . . “

Sunday Morning Coffee: A Memory

Here’s a memory you may enjoy reading.

Linda's Bible Study

It’s snowing heavily. Wasn’t supposed to start until sometime after five tonight. Watching the big, fat flakes drift down has triggered a memory. I may have written this one before, don’t remember. So here goes.

We lived in southern Minnesota. I was 17, a senior in high school. My little brother, John, was three.

Mom had suffered severe problems for a long time with issues that finally led to her having surgery, a complete hysterectomy including her ovaries, which put her into medical menopause. It was March, when the area we lived in often got the worst blizzards of the winter. Dad had driven from St. James to the hospital in Madelia, a 15-mile trip, to spend some time with Mom. Johnny and I hunkered down for the day, played some games, read some of his favorite stories, and generally just relaxed.

I decided to make a big pot of…

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