Welcome to my blog, access to all posts is FREE, this site is NOT ad. supported, so block them, the cookies are powered directly by Blogger or WordPress, so nothing I can do about those. Thank You.
Quote of the Day :
L’humanité qui devrait avoir 6000 ans d’expérience, retombe en enfance à chaque génération. Tristan Bernard (French playwright and novelist, 1866-1947)
Man who should have accumulated 6000 years of experience, falls back into childhood at every new generation.
It’s time for another Write Edit Publish Challenge of 2020, writing on a word and picture prompt with the Insecure Writers’ Support Group.
IWSG in the 100 best blogging sites
The WEP site
The joint WEP-IWSG Challenge 2020
I can see them bouncing off from the UFO-shaped towers in between the glass skyscrapers.
The straggly trees lining the avenues have withered, bearing only yellow leaves on twigs.
I can see them streaming down towards every office window, every cab, every ear-plugged pedestrian.
Then my eyes cloud over, my brain starts to vibrate and ache. I can see kaleidoscope shapes, psychedelic colours. Armies of fantastical creatures sweep down on my thoughts.
My mind accelerates; violent incidents: a stabbing, a snatcher on a bike, a crazy truck crashes into a store front.
A shriek attacks my eardrums and a shower of feathers thump onto the tarmac. No one seems to notice. Then I see a wild-eyed girl run in zigzags, head in her hands. A screeching toddler breaks free from his father’s grasp, speeds across the street, miraculously dodges traffic. On the other side, he crouches and slides down the drain opening.
A dog springs out of a bar, sinks its jaws into the first calf it encounters; the body attached, yelps, beats the canine with his New York Times.
Out of nowhere, into the corner of my eye, surges a yellow cab, its wheels squeal to a halt in front of me. The driver sports a long black raincoat, a felt hat, straight out of Mean Streets. He turns his head. Below the rim, an intense gaze locks my eyes. The face is translucent, blue. Then I notice that three pairs of three-digit hands grip the steering wheel. One of them beckons to me to hop in while another reaches over to unlatch the door. I look around me, suddenly decide to trust this strange creature to save me from this madness.
We speed away through downtown, take the tunnel towards New Jersey. On the other side, the blue alien-looking man swerves, twists corners into an industrial estate, I didn’t even know existed.
We stop in front of a monstrous building with antenna, towers, electrical spirals: a giant generator.
The blue creature hands me a round green object: the size and weight of a cannon ball.
‘ What, you want me to blow it up ? ‘
He edges me on with a nod, eyes twinkling in the sunset.
I step out, run to the fence and chuck it far over in an arc.
The eruption of fireworks, smoke and rain of debris provokes hilarity on the blue creature’s face,
‘ Klock kan Nok 5, Nuk Yok.’
No more 5G in New York.
©susanbauryrouchard 450 words FCA.
Thank you for reading. Happy WEP month.
Leonard Cohen ,
I’m your Man. here
Walking through Toulouse, May 2020