unlikely partners

it’s time to draw up the papers.

ok. we’re a partnership. do it like that.

all right. a partnership. you and me.

hang on. what about him? he’s a partner too.

he’s your partner but that’s different papers.

he’s your partner too.

yes, but that’s a third set of papers.

listen you two. as far as i’m concerned i’m your partner but not your partner.

ok, then. that’s just two sets of papers.

what about number four over there. we’re partners.

i agree.

not with me.

so that’s… fives sets of papers.

i am only drawing up one set of papers, period.

we don’t have to be a partnership.

can we be a fellowship?

can a girl be a fellow?

how about an association?

i won’t associate with you.

how about a collaboration?

not legal enough.

how about a union?

too much like a marriage.

enough already. we’ll all be partners with whomever we’re partners with. for the papers, let’s be a company.

i’ll be in a company with you but i’m not going to keep your company.

for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

imagination

 

Do animals imagine or only react?

I have seen the dreaming dog.

Do they guess?

I have seen the ambivalent cat. Stepping out. I guess. Stepping back. I guess not.

Are they pensive?

I have seen the thoughtful bird. The motion of its feathers betrays its mood.

They like me, or is that my imagination?

 

For Pic and a Word

boxing

 

 

people say to me, whaddya want to be a boxer for? you could break your nose. you could get your face marked up.

look at this face. you think i’m worried about that?

it’s a dying sport, they say.

here’s the thing about that. you want to be the best at something? pick a sport where the competition is not so much.

then they say, it’s a man’s game.

oh, yeah? then how come i get paid for fighting other women?

truth to tell, though, i don’t mind getting hit. i got hit at home. i got used to it. meantime, i like to hit. it’s not the money, it’s the hitting. it’s like a drug.

the first time my boyfriend raised his hand to me? pow! right on the jaw. he didn’t resent it. he really didn’t resent it, if you know what i mean.

and the other thing, which i already mentioned. it’s a sport.

 

Photo prompt © J Hardy Carroll
For Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

 

haiku: hail

unusual sound
a rattle of sky pebbles
dove huddles on eggs

 

For Haiku Horizons

snowman

 

Farmers, like wildlife, require predictable weather. Ice on the fruit or nut blossoms and after a bust year, the bank may own your place.

Same with marriage, in my experience. The wrong thing at the wrong time and you’re single again.

Late snow is Nature’s midlife crisis. It comes out of nowhere and disrupts the normal routines.

I got snowed on twice the same day. Orchards wiped out just as I’m leaving home with some clothes stuffed in a suitcase.

No school and the kids were having a good time building a snowman.

 

Photo by Jade Wong
For Sunday Photo Fiction

fabric

what is all this talk about the fabric of spacetime?

in the books and movies the fabric is always endangered. somebody is always tearing it. how can that be? hasn’t spacetime been around since God made the world or since the world evolved, if you’re a non-believer. Who thinks you can go around tearing it?

when I was a kid growing up in New York, the only time you heard about fabrics was when your sister talked to her friend about sewing or buying a new dress or if you knew a boy who was a tailor’s son or whose dad repaired car upholstery.

talk about fabrics on the street corner and everybody would think you were a… a… whatever. tho i did have a friend from Philadelphia who would call the rear part of a girl her fabric. he’d say, some nice fabric out on the street today.

i also knew a boy from London who called his underwear his fabrics which made everyone hoot.

my mom made my shirts but she didn’t ask me what kind of fabric i wanted in them.

also, come to think of it, the sign on my dad’s shop had the word fabricate in it.

 

For Daily Post