Thursday, August 30, 2012

Lady Luck

Forgotten City

Lady Luck is a wild card, a wild lady in a wild life.
Lady Luck dances her life away through the lust of men’s eyes.
Lady Luck lurks in the darkness and finds a place to change.
Lady Luck is Lady Luck by night  and… Luke by day.

Peace Advocacy

Mare Serenitatis

The peace lecture had started and the speaker had been talking for a while. The audience was bored. The theme of world peace was kind of old and the sun was shining outside, the lawns had been freshly watered and everything smelled so nice.
“What would be the color of peace?” asked John, interrupting the perplexed speaker.
“White, most would say. I prefer blue. It’s the color of the sea,” replied the speaker in a paternalistic tone.
“But the sea is far from being peaceful.”
“True. Yet just try looking at the sea. It’s amazing how peaceful you feel. People who love the sea are peace advocates, in a way.”
“I see…”
A moment of silence. The speaker tapped his notes on the stand to put them in order and prepared to resume the lecture.
“Are pirates peace advocates? They do love the sea,” asked John.
A wave for muffled giggles swept through the room.
“Let’s go back to our lecture, ok? Now, where were we? Ah, world peace.”
John sighed and looked outside. The sun was shining and the lawn looked so shiny.


Forgotten City

“He went down the tunnel, sir.”
“Are you sure?” asked the young constable. The tunnel looked a bit too dark. He didn’t feel like going in.
The crowd nodded in unison.
He gathered up his courage and walked inside.
The crowd waited, and waited and waited.  It was close to dawn and dinner was waiting. Most of the people went back home and forgot about the constable, the tunnel and the strange being who went inside the tunnel.
Two stayed behind, a little boy and his friend, a shepherd dog. He just waited, sitting on the floor beside his dog. The little boy didn’t know the constable. He hadn’t seen the strange being either. He just thought the constable would like to be welcomed by someone when he got back.
It was close to midnight when the constable finally returned. He was holding something.
“Hey. What are you doing here? It’s late. Your mother must be worried.”
 “No, she is working. What is that?”
The constable sat down in front of the boy and the dog.
“This is his coat,” he replied while holding a coat that seemed to be made of a very strange fabric, a mixture of plastic and snake skin. “He managed to escape.”
“Did you see it?”
“What was it?” the boy asked eagerly.
“It was a man; well, a being from another planet, another place, somewhere in the universe. It looked like a man, but his skin was different and he changed his shape to fit into very narrow places.”
“Oh,” said the boy, eyes wide open.
“But promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.”
“We don’t want people to start a hunt for the alien. We’ll find him, discreetly.”
The boy agreed and the pact was signed with a handshake. They never did find the alien.
Many years later, when the boy was no longer a boy but a grown man, his shepherd dog fell very ill. He was now an old dog, but the boy inside the grown man didn’t want to lose his lifelong companion. The vets couldn’t do anything so he took his dog home to die where he had lived, right next to his human best friend.
Suddenly, a strange sound came from the kitchen. It was the door to the back yard. The man stood up and turned around. The strange being was standing in his living room. He walked towards the dog and touched his nose, much to the horror of the man. The dog opened his eyes, stood up and slowly turned into a puppy again. The man couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Many years ago you made a pact that saved my life. Now I am saving yours.” And as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone.
The puppy jumped of joy. The man smiled.
Several years later, when the puppy was already a full grown dog, the man felt a pain in his chest and collapsed. The dog tried to make him move without success. So he ran to town and walked up to the constable and nuzzled his hand. The constable recognized the dog and followed him; the man was taken to hospital.
The alien had saved two lives, or was it really only one? Well, the boy and the dog did share one soul.


Mischief Managed
 “There is sugar for all tastes,” the woman said. “Just grab whatever you like, kids!”
Mike was a bit confused. He was not supposed to eat sugar before dinner and now he was being told to grab as much as he wanted. What about cavities in his teeth? What about the gum problems his mother had told him about? What about having to go the dentist? Oh, no, the dentist, that man with the syringe and the noisy drill and that chair that made him look at the ceiling and count the mold spots (he lost count at one hundred and forty).
“Come on, kids, come on. Don’t be shy.”
Mike took a step closer to the tray with all the goodies, but he was a bit suspicious. The other kids grabbed as much as they could, as quickly as they could, before the adults changed their minds.
“Mike, aren’t you going to take something?” his friend Thomas asked.
Mike shrugged and paced back and forth while the frenzy quieted down.
The woman looked at him and frowned, resting her hand on the hip.
“Michael Joseph Peterson, you must take something,” she said.
Mike shrugged again and the woman knew this one would be the tough case of the day. She decided to use a soft voice and charm instead.
“Mike, dear Mike, you may choose anything you like. See these candies? They are lovely and so tasty. Or this chocolate, it’s so sweet.”
And then she made a mistake, the mistake that made Mike decide what to do. She smiled. And yes, her smile was the tragic result of, let’s say, a sugary life. Teeth were missing; others were as black and filled with cavities as the surface of some odd planet.
Mike looked at his friends. They smiled. And, oh no, they too already had that same smile.
He took a step back and yet another, and ran. He ran back home, to where his mother would nag him about not eating sweets before dinner. That was much better. He actually liked it, that she would do that. And the next time she did, he smiled a perfectly white shiny smile!

Sunday, August 26, 2012

The Lost Award Goes to…


“We have to pay to sail aimlessly?” asked one of the crew members astonished about the unusual contest.
“Yep. Easy,” replied the skipper.
It was decided.
They roamed in high waters for days and days up to when food and water became scarce. Then they returned, eager to know who had won. The pier was empty, except for the fluttering envelope:

To the Sea Pirate.
May you return safely.”

The skipper looked at his crew. There was no sign of the promised prize money though.
“It’s time,” he said, pulling out his automatic. Guess who was lost now!

Thursday, August 23, 2012



Vote, vote, vote, but we couldn’t, could we? No.
The power to choose, to decide, was not for us, not for us.
We will, one day, we will, but we’ll have to fight for it.
Some have already won; others are still struggling.
Fight, fight, fight, and we’ll vote, right…?