Fauxpocalypse – July 15, 2015

So today’s the day. The day when the world was supposed to end and didn’t. So what happened next? Where did Susie and Sasha go after the world didn’t end?

Image. . 

Another Slice of Watermelon

A few hours later we’re out on the street pushing through the hordes of people. I’d convinced Sasha that we needed to get out of the city for a while. Told him I figured the landlord would be after us for rent, now that the world hadn’t ended. I hadn’t told him my real reason for wanting to leave, that I needed to check that the outside world still existed. He would have laughed at me, thought I was being ridiculous . . .

We made our way down Jaffa road, weaving through the multitudes, the soldiers, the black hats, the beggars. There were many, many people in the street, but while there are still a few cars, most were on foot. There had not been much petrol for months now. We passed the bus station. There were just a few buses running and the crowds were pushing and shoving to get on board. Sasha and I didn’t have any money for the bus in any case. We walked on past the bus station and out of the city.

There was a junction there which we knew from many of years of experience was the best place to hitch a ride out of Jerusalem. There were a few soldiers standing there with us and we knew already that any cars that stop would take the soldiers first.

Still we had one advantage over the soldiers. We had nowhere in particular that we needed to go.

* * *

Out in the streets of Tira there was total silence. No one had emerged from their houses at all today. Nahram sat on the stone wall outside her house. So it was still here – the world – she knew it would be despite everything her family and friends told her. Despite what they had told her at school. Despite what she’d seen on the TV screens, those hysteric voices from Al Jazeer blaming Israel and the Jews for all their troubles.

She had kept going to school even when most of her friends had stopped. Yesterday there had only been her and her teacher.

Nahram was going to be a doctor – there would need those even more now. Now the world was still here. She wondered how long the rest of the village would sleep. When they would wake up and realize there were all still here.

She looked down the street – a girl and a boy were walking towards her wearing shorts and T-shirts. Where had they come from? There had been no visitors to the village for months now.

* * *

We waited at that junction for nearly two hours, watching all the soldiers disappear into vehicles. We had almost given up when a small truck stopped and asked where we wanted to go. We said we didn’t care; wherever they were going was fine.

The guy driving the truck, Hamid, was trying to get back to his village. There was very little petrol left in the truck so this was unlikely. Still, he said, if Allah had saved the earth, surely another little miracle would be in order and maybe they’d find a petrol station along the way that still had petrol.

Many years before, I had spent a year volunteering in the Arab village of Tira. I had been young and idealistic then, believed I could change the world – didn’t realize that the world was not willing to change. It had been years since I’d been back to Tira, yet today a few hours after the end of the world we found ourselves on the outskirts of Tira. Hamid’s truck had broken down several hours before and we were on foot unable to find another ride.

As we walked into Tira I recognized the houses – it seemed like nothing had changed, yet it was eerily quiet. Where were all the people? I had friends in the village, or at least I used to, but I felt suddenly shy, unwilling to knock on a door, though we desperately needed water. I’d almost decided it was hopeless and was going to leave again when I saw the young girl in the distance sitting on the stone wall. Was she the only one left?

As we walked closer – she rose to meet us, smiling,

“Hello,” said Nahram, “Would you like some watermelon?”

Image  WatermelonsMarsCover

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Fluffy’s Request

Fluffy

 

Dear Santa Paws,
Now let’s get something straight. I’m not dreaming of a white Christmas. Never did get the attraction to snow. Nasty, yucky, stuff—makes my fur all wet. So if you could keep it away this December that would be great. Better still how about a sunny December in Hawaii instead? Then I could lounge on the beach and take a nice long catnap. Then when I wake up, the waiter will serve me a fresh fish on a platter. Yes, that’s what I want for Christmas
(and a new catnip mouse would be nice.)
Yours Sincerely,
Fluffy

 

Read more holiday drabbles in May All Your Wishes

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Fiction Friday – Esmeralda Grunch and the Red Tulip

Today’s fiction Friday is a little story I wrote for a contest a few months back. I recently wrote a sequel with a Chanukah theme that appears in a charity anthology, Winter Wishes.

Red-Tulip

Esmeralda Grunch opened her eyes and stretched. She reached up and tugged apart the crimson petals above her head and gazed out at the sunrise.
“Ouch,” screeched the Tulip, “what did you have to do that for? I’ll open up in a little if you just wait for the sun to come out.”
But Esmerelda couldn’t wait. She pushed her way up through the deep red petals and out into the cool morning air. She breathed deeply and let the first rays of the sun touch her tiny gossamer wings. She flew down to the pond, where she gazed at her reflection, satisfied. She was a very fetching flower sprite even if she said so herself, with deep red hair that matched her tulip and a scarlet dress that sparkled in the early morning rays.
The Tulip rearranged its petals and settled down for the day, grumbling to itself. It knew it was supposed to be an honor to be chosen by a flower sprite, but still she could be a bit more grateful; after all the Tulip was unique – she was the only red Tulip in the flower patch.
She gazed haughtily at the other flowers. Such vulgar shades. Only she was the purest red. Her bulb had been a ruby set in the soil, a promise of a fragrant future. Yes, the garden was truly hers, despite what Esmeralda believed.
But still as the day progressed the Tulip became restless. Where was the sprite? She would need to close her petals soon and rest for the night. There in the distance, a fluttering of wings, and Esmeralda landed with the plop in the middle of the Tulip.
“Where have you been?” scolded the Tulip, but Esmeralda didn’t answer. She was already fast asleep. The Tulip sighed as she enfolded Esmeralda in her petals and joined her in peaceful slumber.
WinterWishes

#FairyTaleProblems

One of the Facebook writing groups of which I’m an member is starting a Friday fiction challenge. Here’s my contribution for this week. I hope my little tale helps to make your weekend a little happier.

ogre

“It’s not fair!” shouted Brian, “all other ogres get to eat whoever they like, how come I have to go on a diet?”

“I told you Mr. Zogg, your cholesterol is through the roof. Now if you were to exercise more . . .”

“I get plenty of exercise – that bloke I ate on Thursday. I had to chase him for half a mile before I caught him. He almost got away.”

“But that simply is not enough, Mr. Zogg, a well-balanced diet is what you need. Plenty of vegetables.”

“Whoever heard of an ogre eating vegetables – now vegetarians maybe – how about if I promised only to eat vegans from now on?”

“Well, that might work, but you must promise a vegan-only diet.”

“Thank you, Doc. I knew you would come around.”

 

Stayed tuned for details of a twisted fairy tale anthology – Pick Your Poison – coming soon!