Monday, June 17, 2019

TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT WEEK - MORE OF MIDNIGHT IN CENTRAL PARK





This is picture prompt week. I've chosen the statue of King Jagiello of Poland. I'm restricted to 300 words this week.  We're continuing with my urban fantasy called "Midnight in Central Park."
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The statue of King Jagiello of Poland used to scare me when I was a kid. My father would take me there and force me to stand in front of it. But now I see “Jag”, what I call him, as a leader. He did some crap to liberate Poland from some creeps a long time ago. Now, he stands guard by the East side of the turtle pond. No one would mess with him.
I love his swords. Imagine having one for each hand. And his horse, wearing some sort of armor or clothing. Even the horse is scary. He looks mad. The statue is awesome, and way bigger than any guy I know. But at night, in the moonlight, he’s the meanest man in the park. I mean, who’d be afraid of a statue of Samuel F. B. Morse or Hans Christian Anderson, right?
Jag’ll make you shake. He’ll intimidate you with one look. And those swords! They are huge and look sharp as hell. I took courage from him. Those assholes had been screwing over Ma. She’s bruised and high all the time now. I didn’t think things could get worse. But they did. I don’t know what they’ve got against her. She works hard for them. Still, they give her crack and beat her up. Pisses me off, big time.
I look at Jag and try to get the same mean look he’s got. Maybe I can scare those dickwads away. At least I can try. After school, I’m going home. Mr. Johnson has some errands for me, which is good because I need the money. Then, Ma’ll come home, probably with those tools. And I’ll be there to confront them. Someone’s gotta save Ma. Jag’s only a statue, so I guess it’s up to me. 

That's it, today. Don't miss the other excellent tales. Thanks for stopping by. 

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Monday, June 10, 2019

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "FLOWER" - MORE OF MY URBAN FANTASY



Welcome! This week the word prompt is "flower." We have more of my urban fantasty, "Midnight in Central Park." Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by. 


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The park was nice in June. Lots of stuff blooming. Most of the flowers were nice, but there’s this one bush, it had flowers. I haven’t seen many bushes that bloom. One guy who works in the park told me it was called mountain laurel. The flowers were different, not like regular flowers. They have little designs inside.
That bush was like me. Looked the same as every other bush on the outside, but inside, it’s different. I’m like that. People look at me and think I’m some stupid little asshole, but on the inside of me, there’s a lot going on. I only know of one place in the park where the mountain laurel blooms, down by the Shakespeare Theater.
I went there to sleep. There’s a bench by the turtle pond that totally hidden from the path. You have to walk in toward the pond to see it. My bedroll fits perfect. I’ve slept there before. Only thing is you gotta make sure not to roll off.
There are a shitload of turtles in that pond. There’s this one really big one. I called him Smoky. He was a lazy dude who’d glide around, looking for handouts. I never had any food for them, but they’d show up to see me anyway. I guess they were hoping that I will someday.
I didn’t go home because that Dickwad Spider would be popping in at some time. He’s dangerous. He needs Ma, so he won’t do anything to her if she’s not stealing from him. But me? He’s got no use for me. I stay away when he’s expected.
After checking out the mountain laurel, I took a bench and spread out to do my homework. It doesn’t get dark until late in June, so I had plenty of time to get everything done. I’d go in early to bang out my essay on the library computer. Mrs. Gold, my English teacher, made a deal with the librarian. I don’t touch anything else, don’t make a mess, so she lets me come in early.
I write essays about the park a lot. I thought about writing about Balto coming to life, but figure Mrs. Gold might have me committed. It’s been on my mind a lot lately. Hard to have such a big secret. So what the fuck. I wrote about it this week. I’m hoping Mrs. Gold doesn’t go nuts.



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Monday, June 3, 2019

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "RANCID" - MORE URBAN FANTASY - MIDNIGHT IN CENTRAL PARK



Welcome! This week our word prompt is "rancid", an ugly word for sure. We have another episode of "Midnight in Central Park", my urban fantasy. Scroll down to return to the fabulous Tuesday Tales stories. Thank you for stopping by. 


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I rushed home from school the day Ma said she’d be home early and make dinner. She was a damn fine cook. When dad lived with us, she’d prepare unbelievable meals. Like a gourmet chef.

When I opened the door, I smelled something awful, like rancid cheese. It was her dealer, Spider Malone. Abby said he was a pimp, too, but I didn’t believe it. No matter what she did, she was my mother.
I hated Spider. The guy stank. Either he never took a bath or used the wrong after shave. I couldn’t stand his smell, so I opened a window. 
“Is that the kid?”
He always called me that. I hated it.  
“Kid, that you?”
I didn’t say a word, just went to my room and locked the door. Yeah, I put a lock on. I had to lift it from the hardware store because I didn’t have the cash. With assholes like Spider around, you never knew what would go down.
I could hear him hollering for me, but I ignored it. A little guy, wiry, maybe, but not strong enough to knock down my door. The other guy with him? Maybe. I figured if I stayed quiet in my room, they’d go away, like they always did. 
They were arguing in the kitchen. I heard some loud noises, like furniture being banged around. Then the front door slammed.
I flew to the kitchen. There was Ma, sitting in a chair, bent over, her forehead touching the table.
“Ma! Ma, sit up. Ma!”
She didn’t reply, just sat there. I pulled her up by her shirt. Her nose was dripping blood and her left eye was turning black and blue.
“Did that dickwad do this to you?”
“Language, Jamie.”
“The hell with that, Ma. Who beat you up? I’m calling the police.”
She raised her hand. “No! Don’t do that. It’ll only get worse.”
“Ma we can’t let them do this to you.”
“I made a mistake.”
“What could you possible have done to justify a beating?”
“I took money from Spider. More than I had coming. I found his wallet and emptied it.”
“You took all his money?”
“It wasn’t much. Three hundred, maybe.”
“What did you do with it?”
“Had a good time. I deserve to have some fun.”
“Oh, Ma. You stole from him and bought drugs? Not your wisest move.” 

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