The Book

The Book

She very carefully removed the fragile book from inside its glass case, wearing gloves so as not to mark the pages as books now where a rarity now only seen by visitors to the museum and only then under glass in controlled conditions

The book itself wasn’t so special there where other paperbacks in the museum other books written by other authors but this book was special

The author was famous most books by the literary greats had disintegrated over the years very few copies survived, others that had survived didn’t have the special touch that this author had.

She had changed the world through her writing not just one book but many, stories thoughts, poems and questions posed, she changed the world and how people saw the plight of not just her own people but many all over the globe.

She bought the community together in gatherings reading, thinking and discussing her ideas her thoughts.
Even though that was many years ago before the sun started to go out making the bright days of sunshine and warmth a thing of the past her books still survived, survived because of her special contact, survived because of who she was, survived because she touched them.
The museum worker carefully turned the page to the next one so the visitors could read it, delicately placing the book back under the cover she wiped the glass and very lightly wiped the brass plate in front of the case

it read
”Dana Dane – She found her voice and spoke to us all”

Where do I live

Where do I live, a writers union challenge January 12, 2007

Y!360 Writers Union

Where do I live.

I don’t live anywhere interesting like a reservation, with
strange objects pointing too the sky and alien landing craft in the middle of
the town.

I don’t live near a beautiful harbor

But I do live in the middle of a place where bushrangers
once roamed,

where the soil is red, the sky blue,

the sun a bright orange ball at sunset,

the moon a face in the night sky

A place of diversity a place of many cultures

A place of distances and long car trips, a country whose
animals differ in size from the smallest penguin and the whales are larger than a
house

A country where thongs are worn on feet and stubbies are
kept in eskies

, where meat is minced and

Emu is not on the menu

I live in a place, in the future but not too far away,
where summer is winter and winter summer, where it snows in July

and December is hot

A place of states and territories and meeting
places

Of green and gold at cricket matches

Where we laugh at Kylie Minouge

Where we have secret clones of Sam Neil,

hidden away for the next Matrix
movie

Where do I live?

The middle of Australia, four hours drive away from snow
in winter, six hours away from the nearest beach,

where our cars wear yellow plates

and driving on the left is the thing too do,

unless you like the men in blue.

Some photos are mine, the moon is Gabi's others are from
Google, some are clickable too

As the Wter Rises

As the water rises .... January 28, 2007
360º Writers Union

Challenge 4 “A picture is worth a thousand words”



“You know I saw another dolphin today, I swear this one was carrying a briefcase”

“That’s your imagination Harriet” Edward grumbled as he staggered behind her with the groceries, yet again walking well wading was more of the word, they had abandoned using the car when the tyres started getting caught on coral, dang stuff was everywhere now, you had too be careful where you stepped too the coral was sharp and could go right through your shoes, shoes that squelched mind you, always wet, always the water, it was getting higher too.

The media said the water wasn’t rising but Edward could tell, I mean letter boxes don’t just float away, do they and his had, he had been looking out the kitchen window and saw the letter box just sailing away down the street it had looked like a turtle had it in it’s mouth but no that was his imagination that was, turtles didn’t come this far inland I mean when was the last time you saw a turtle in Kansas like never! Turtles don’t live in Kansas that’s just silly but then polar bears don’t either and Harriet said she had seen one going through the rubbish bins down by the grocery store. Edward had told her it must have been a vagrant some poor guy down on his luck wearing a white garbage bag there was no way it could have been a polar bear

“Come on Edward you slow poke” you don’t want too be missing the Jacques Cousteau special and I want too get home before these fish and chips get cold you know they go soggy if they are in the bag too long

“You know Harriet we just might have too trade in the car for a boat, the Marcy’s have one now”

“What do we want a boat for Edward?” Harriet gave him one of her sideways glances as she arranged the fish and chips on a plate “The water is going down the TV man said so”

No its not, there’s more water every day we have less and less front lawn all the time, how long did it take me too mow it on Saturday what about 10 minutes you know it used too take me at least an hour and I got all sand and pebbles on the blades this time too

You know if this keeps up we may have too just take that cruise and I don’t think we will have too go far for the cruise boat either listen

“Honk, Hooooooook”

That’s the TV Edward I think you watch too much Jacques Cousteau


And so while Harriet and Edward ate and watched TV the water continued too rise, it had been rising it wasn’t their imaginations, the fish where taking over, the arctic animals where migrating because as the ice melted and the sea rose they has no where else too go

Sometime in the near future Harriet and Edward would either be
a.Eaten by a polar bear b.Float away in a balloon with Kevin Costner c.Just plain drown d.Grow gills and turn into fish e.any or all of the above See results

Crying in the Night

A Sharky Writing Challenge ... January 07, 2007

A Sharkly Writing Challenge

Crying in the
night

She was bending over at the
wooden door the sweat pouring off her, her heart beating rapidly I can't
possibly do this she thought and she was still feverishly hammering thinking of
the horrible noises she had heard down in the dark gloomy basement last night,
when she heard a noise stood up straight and turned around too put the hammer
down on the table and another hand a cool smooth hand touched
hers

She jumped back and dropped
the hammer on her foot

“OW”

“Hey babe” her next door
neighbour virtually yelled in her ear

“Didn’t mean too scare you just bringing in some lettuce and tomatoes from me garden you know mine are the freshest around”

He looked at the door then
the nails sticking out haphazardly this way and that, bent over some even on the
floor, hammer marks on the wood then turned to her standing there with a look on
her face like a scared deer under the headlights standing on one leg holding
trying too hold her foot in one hand.

He hurriedly placed the sack on the counter and grabber her by the shoulder guiding her too a chair, “Here sit hunny I’ll make you a cup of tea”
“Gordon you know I don’t like tea and I don’t like you calling me hunny either and don't yell in my ear” Now she was rubbing her foot in one hand and her ear with the other

But hun’ he stopped himself

Helen you look like someone just died and why in the name of all is holy have made such a mess of that door

“Coffee Gordon” she gasped and I’ll tell you all about it

Early this morning I woke to
the sound of a baby crying
“Ain’t no babies around here Helen”

“I know that Gordon now don’t interrupt”

I woke too the sound of a
baby crying and well I know there aren’t any around here not unless
someone’s got one hidden and you know this neighbourhood I don’t
think that secret would keep long

As I came down the stairs too the kitchen, the crying got louder and more intense, it seemed too be coming from the behind that door she pointed too the basement door

It was very dark and very
cold down there I’ve never been further than the bottom of the stairs down there
in the basement I don’t like it never have
Even though the rest of the house is bright and sunny the basement is cold dark and gloomy and it smells nasty too

I just don’t go down there at all but the crying was coming from down there I just had too go it was so pain filled and the feeling I was getting from it well it was making me cry too I had too go, step by step in the dark each step getting closer too the sound

Suddenly

“Whoa what’s that” Gordon
jumped back spilling his coffee on the table

“Oh that Gordon is the source of the crying, that cat was trapped down in the basement and it was crying its head off, of course it wasn’t going too sit at the door oh no, I had too go right down and grab it too get it out.

Help me hammer these last few
nails into the cat door will you please Gordon otherwise that door will never be
opened again and that cats going too wake me up every night"

What did you think it was
going too be Zombies hehehehe
If you want too do your own go here
for rules

Some People

Some people think I'm mean
I'm not mean just sarcastic
Some people think I don't like them
I like them its just that I don't show it
Some people think I'm aloof
I'm not I'm shy and reserved
Some people think I'm a know it all
Well I'm not no one knows everything -- I use Google
Some people think I don't trust them
I don't .....I'm paranoid from being betrayed to many times
Some people think I'm a better speller
I'm not I use the FireFox spell checker
Some people think I'm sat here all day
I'm not I do sleep sometimes
by
© Missy A

For My Dad.

My dad

He stands with his hands on his hips

He’s slightly stooped

He coughs from the coal dust of many years ago

Thin and grey now

But I remember a tall middle aged man

Who would sit me on his lap and let me stroke his fine black hair

Already starting to grey a little by the time I was born

That’s my dad

A great grand father

Like his clock

Tall but slightly battered through travels of many countries

But now my dad has Parkinson’s his hands wobble

He has trouble moving

His clock a great, great grandfather of a clock will outlast him

Like it has other generations of our family