Sunday, October 18, 2009

Flash! Aa-ah! Go to hell and die!















"I'd just like to say, this blog sucks!"

"Hey, up yours, Friday Flash Fiction!"

"You know Javier, poets say that in the spring a young man's thoughts turn to love, but I think they're wrong. The rain-speckled blooms are nothing but the alluring, deceiving servants of memory that drape her soothing meadows, the grave of the soul. The vine grows in autumn, always in autumn, whose fiery, spectral whirlwind draws the curtain back. That's where love lives, rising aloft as the mayfly and, just as quick, descending to sleep underneath the stone whose November whispers quietly prick verdant words to no one out onto the frigid earth, dead before the ink dries, only to be reborn in rainbow hues."

"That's a bit pessimistic, don't you think?"

"Ah, but you see, to be in love is a completely different animal. We were speaking of love, my friend, that invisible, beautiful, horrid thing that endlessly cycles 'round inside, trapping us within its charms so easily as if we were American children on Halloween anticipating another handful of sugary treats in our tattered sack. Eat too much -- linger too long -- and you always pay the price. But to be in love, the real thing, this mayfly is now immortal, is it not? Brighter than Arcturus, whose rosy glow pales before your own. Until, of course, this love, like all red giants, expands, engulfing even the cosmic seas where you wrote your first lines to her, weighing heavier with the lugubrious passage of time, when at last everything is thrown, and the world is left barely luminous and you, alone."

"As I said, a bit pessimistic."

"Perhaps. I could go for a drink."

"Believe me, so could I. But just drink. No tapas, no talking, especially to the señoritas. One ruined mood is enough."

23 comments:

Christopher said...

"mayfly?"

Huh? Sent me to the trusty old Oxford.

"...an aquatic nymph and a short-lived fragile adult having membranous wings."

Never quite thought of "love" as a mayfly.

People always ask us how we've managed to stay together for going on 17 years this January and all I can come up with is, don't sweat the small stuff and it's usually all small stuff.

You'd think after 17 years I would have something deeper or more profound? OK, if your spouse leaves the damned light on in the garage and it annoys you, get your fat ass up from the sofa and turn it off yourself.

How's that for deep? LOL!

Holte Ender said...

You know Javier, poets say that in the spring a young man's thoughts turn to love, but I think they're wrong. If Joey, Dee Dee and Johnny have any legacy at all, it's that love is a year round celebration.

Mary Ellen said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Mary Ellen said...

All you need is love, John Lennon said so.

sunshine said...

Love the Ramones! :)

I don't even know what to say about this post. I thought it was beautiful.
I won't expand on that. That way it won't hurt so much when you inevitably shoot me down later.. ;P

((Hugs))
Laura

Dusty said...

Good music Randal and a good rant too!

Did you already draft in the basketball league m'dear?

Demeur said...

In spring a young man's thoughts turn to Budweiser and condoms. No that's not quite right. It's year round.

Strange how life goes in a big circle he said having the drool wiped from his chin and wanting his depends changed.

susan said...

Love is winning the last two tickets in town to their last show ever so you can share them with a friend one more time. The question was: Why do you need to see the Ramones? and the answer: I Wanna Be Sedated.

Sherry Peyton said...

If you're talking about love, I think that pic is of KISS members without makeup. And KISS is all about love right? They are back, so I'm sure that means that the world is righting itself? NO? Oh, and I thought they were a killer band. NO? Oh.

Tengrain said...

Gates, you swine!

My sack may be many things, but it is not tattered, thank you very much.

Regards,

Tengrain

Beach Bum said...

Not be a real downer right now but I've come to believe, excluding my kids, love is largely an illusion.

Tom Harper said...

John Lennon, the Ramones, "in the Spring a young man's thoughts turn to love..." -- Memory Lane today. Not to be confused with Penny Lane.

S.W. Anderson said...

I was really getting into your love riff. Then I came to the part about going under a stone to sleep in November. I've known people in love to do some pretty kinky things, but nothing subterranean. And nothing that would deliberately bring on hypothermia. I mean, cold, dank, dark and dirty just isn't conducive.

Also, what's with the mayflies? Could we at least leave bugs out of this? Next you'll be working bed bugs into the mix. Ewww.

Do go for a drink, my friend. I suggest you sip Liebfraumilch while reading some Alex Comfort. And whatever you do, don't stop by any cemeteries on the way home. :}

MRMacrum said...

Seems your protaganist has the same luck with his love life as Cleveland has on the gridiron.

"Ah, but you see, to be in love is a completely different animal. We were speaking of love, my friend, that invisible, beautiful, horrid thing that endlessly cycles 'round inside, trapping us within its charms so easily as if we were American children on Halloween anticipating another handful of sugary treats in our tattered sack. Eat too much -- linger too long -- and you always pay the price. Absolutely! Great post.

Cormac Brown said...

Love stinks.

I like this short, but mostly because you incorporated the word "tapas" and there was plenty of pessimism.

Oh, and by the way? Love is Tsetse fly, lulling you to sleep.

Übermilf said...

Nobody wants to hear about your "tattered sack," and nobody believes you have any sugary treats in there, either.

Dr. Zaius said...

I believe that your mayfly is not so much immortal as immoral. And American children on Halloween don't want candy so much as toilet paper. (Those scallywags!)

Mary Ellen said...

Here's a good love quote:

To love at all is to be vulnerable… If you want to make sure of keeping your heart intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken — it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable… The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from love is Hell. — C.S. Lewis

I love C.S. Lewis :-)

Randal Graves said...

christopher, turn it off yourself? You're supposed to let it burn out so you have something else to complain about!

holte, except on Xmas, the Day of Dread.

nunly, yeah, and he ended up getting shot. Drop the love and invest in an M-1 tank. Look how well it worked out for Dukakis!

sunshine, am I some curmudgeonly professor? I don't even own anything in tweed. ;-)

dusty, a couple of online ones, but after our football debacle, I didn't want another 6-team league. Superstars vs. superstars isn't all that fun.

demeur, I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you, busy draining this colostomy bag.

susan, and to keep one's baby away from the KKK.

sherry, you do realize that Gene Simmons is now going to sue you since you didn't pay any royalties on your usage of the word KISS®.

tengrain, Gates? Did you just Freudian slip your way into calling me a member of the military/industrial complex? Them's fightin' words, California!

BB, you might be onto something. Imagine if Hallmark found out.

tom, or Jack LaLane or Layne Staley or Lane from Better Off Dead.

SWA, you're one sick bastard. Didn't you used to write lyrics for Slayer? ;-)

mrmacrum, come to think of it, my protagonist might indeed by poor Josh Cribbs.

cormac, so we're all in agreement that love is related to any number of devastating plagues.

übermilf, like the rest of me, my sack is likely bitter.

dr. zaius, do kids still TP houses? I thought they had moved up to drive-bys.

nunly, I'd almost agree, but isn't love peopled with scantily-clad rock n' roll babes? ;-)

Mary Ellen said...

nunly, I'd almost agree, but isn't love peopled with scantily-clad rock n' roll babes? ;-)

Yeah...a little something that never made it into his writings. Of course, he died in the early 60's so maybe he never had the chance to experience the vision of such babes..or maybe that's what gave him the heart attack that killed him. ;-)

Doc said...

"weighing heavier with the lugubrious passage of time," Randal, you genius!

I like this the best.

Doc

PipeTobacco said...

Randal:

The allegorical notions in your writing suggest a full-blown pop cultural ethos. It is always very interesting to read your flash fiction for even though the words are the same as we all use, the patterns you create in your sentences and story are wholly unique and special.

An importantly interesting piece!

PipeTobacco
http://frumpyprofessor.blogspot.com

Alan Griffiths said...

Well done Randal - enjoyed that.