hilarious+squirm-worthy: dentist of jaipur

walk good.

flash fiction friday #38

sorry i late, and lemme ease allyuh up little bit with a somewhat easier trigger this week, while enveigling you to still do fff#37 for the challenge...

flash fiction friday #38 (start+pick-a-pronoun)trigger: what i/you/he/she/it/we/they didn't know...
rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to the deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post or fasbook note or whatever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!

walk good.

fff#37

pushing the bounds of my griot, testing how poetic and how mystic he like to get, how much he could embellish with pretty talk while still sounding like man. hadda see if he could run the whole show or if empress diablesse hadda take some of the storytelling...

today's trigger coming a little later; ran outta time, hadda run an errand in a timing and will post new trigger when i get back this afternoon...talk soon; walk good.

my attempt @flash fiction friday #37 (inclusion)trigger: pair, pare, pear, peer, pere, pier.
walking out to the end of the bridge to nowhere, i watch the moon, hanging big+low in the sky like she tryna come closer to me. i know is she calling. she’s do that sometimes. i’s not a man who’s stroll out on the ends of piers in the middle of the night jes so. yuh dig? i feel the call and i respond. we familiar like dat.
i get comfortable on the 2x4s, dig in meh shoulderblades, feeling the structure under me, even waggle meh bambam little bit, feel like a lion stretching, enough that i actually stretch a little. whole time she watching. i stretch a little longer than i would in my bed, jes for she.
i settle, so fixated above i only realise i not alone when the shadow cross meh face. i come up on elbows slow, and wait- ah mean, who’s run up on a man lying down on the edge of a pier alone in the middle of the night, hoss?
“pere anansi say come…”
and with that, she stretch sideways and plunge into the sea jes so, splashless. ah tellin’ yuh, barely a ripple, no splash. silence again.
i sit up, looking for the fluffy ‘fro to crest the surface but when the ripple disappear, she doh reappear. i bounce up outta my haze, flip over and hang off the edge to look under the planks. nutting. i scramble back, lie flat on meh stomach and peer between the 2x4s. still nutting. she jes gone, like she never appear with her message from pere anansi.
i try to settle again, to recapture the vibes from before the visitation. make meh way back to the edge, lie down again face to face with the luminous lady but fluffy ‘fro voice stick deep in meh ears, smooth+creamy like the perfect zaboca- which, lewwe admit, is the king of pears; them light fruity ting is for girls, ent? her voice rich+thick, ripeness pushing skin off, no need to pare once flesh exposed.
i feel the shadow across meh face again but sit up to nutting but sweet echoes in meh ears. and then moon remind me: pere anansi say come.
i hang meh legs over the edge this time, slippers next to me, feet reaching toward the echo of the ripple from the fluffy ‘fro, studying to follow, and then, behind me, “guess i not the only one hearing the call tonight.”
i turn, and when i drag meh gaze up from a finer pair of legs than i seen in a minute, is the fluffy ‘fro, in a shorts+vest instead of the white dress from before. and i know this time real.
i drink in the sight of her, and hold out my hand for her to join me...

flash fiction friday #37

flash fiction friday #37 (inclusion)trigger: pair, pare, pear, peer, pere, pier.

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to the deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post or fasbook note or whatever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

berry funny

walk good.

get creative for the cause

i doh need to tell you the importance of this message, you knew it instantly, but i have to say that this poster illuminates that message brilliantly. i saw this and had to repost it because i doh say enough that we need to check ourselves and/or get checked, and i couldn't think of a better way to say so. when i went looking for the image to repost, i found this great little collection; go see the others.

spread the message.

walk good.

fff#36: griot's 1st ballad

a little ditty from my main man, griot, for flash fiction friday #36 (inclusion)trigger: paw poor pore pour; if he gonna be in this musical, we need to see how many storytelling styles he have, ent?

big-up legreat for confirming my vibes re:poem, even if this not aiming for epic, per se...walk good.

gallifrey sports+rec. club,
we usual spot, a bes’ pub,
we limin’ straight from friday afternoon.
not 1-man-jack here scoring
so barman keep on pouring,
doh study it, none-a-we driving soon.
we talkin’ shit, we pongin’
normal scene, jes picongin’
frank face swell up with an infected pore;
he looking for a excuse
to get he gyal to still roaks
while he left jaw look like a open sore.
we know he eh go get none
but then, he have a reason
while none-a-we sitting here could say so...
now me eh no poor-me-one,
is jus’ that is dry season
for quality, and i doh deal in hos.
if tings was looking desperate,
i know where i could get dat,
ting is, dry season hit empress+whore;
times hard but if i paying,
take wha’ it is i saying:
i want to shake she hand and not a paw!

flash fiction friday #36

flash fiction friday #36 (inclusion)trigger: paw, poor, pore, pour.

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.55a.m. friday, trinbago timezone; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago timezone.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to the deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on my trigger-post or fasbook note or whatever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago timezone.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

fff#35

allyuh, i real screw meself with this flash fiction friday #35 (inclusion)trigger: spank, drank, thank, stank, rank. i always try to trigger without studying my vibes to make sure it equally random for me and stays a challenge for myself-as-writer too. but this rounds i was too damn good: i trigger with words that doh wuk with the male-trinbagonian voice i wukkin' on/with. i struggle weeks with this piece 'cause wha' i wukkin' on now need me to experiment with and perfect this male-trinbagonian voice, and the past tense "drank" jus' doh fit. it hadda be "drink" tense-regardless, tha's how we's talk, ent? so i try to get around it; see wha' you think...walk good.

be advised, eh: roughly 9minutes missing from this story-in-progress. maybe tha’ make me wha’ they’s call a “unreliable narrator”, but doh study it, griot does make it up in artistry. take wha’ i telling you. i’s paint- nah, nah, nah…airbrush…yeah, oui- i’s airbrush feelings with words; scene?

right.

handle some exposition ‘cause allyuh come in the dance late, and plus missing 9minutes to boot, so, backstory:

prior to your discovery of our intrepid heroes in this here infamous brooklyn bar, corner of carlos+roberts streets, woodbrook, trinidad, west indies, the earth, the universe revolve ‘round we here, y’know…prior to your discovery of our heroes, wha’ transpire is demetrius had decide was time he put maria in house.

now alla-we done know wha’ go go on: he go start good good, usual story, but when the itch scratch he, he go scratch it back; no matter how nice she making home, he go cyah not horn. and worser yet, alla-we know he go horn she stupid because he like ting too easy- being he gyal is a thankless wuk since keisha fuck it up for everybody; but tha’s a nex’ story…

‘bout 9months after he put maria in house, he make the mistake of agreeing out loud when frank lick the blood from the back of he teeth to say, “i could take on bullin’ dat again…pull dem locks, spank dat big, fat ass…” as maria sister pass on she way inside, a ole years ‘metrius had tell everybody bring ting to grill and we lime in the yard by them. he lucky maria eh hear, but alla-we make he out and from then was just a matter of time.

now, griot or no griot, me eh carryback tha’ particular story ‘cause me eh tryna muddy nobody waters, but i know tha’ talk too sweet to not reach maria ears. i even tell ‘metrius bes’ he+sistren get they story straight, but he head hot above+below he waist, he eh have me to study. when the mark buss, maria ride and clean out the man in a one. she eh even ask him nuttin’, he jus’ come home and find she and every single ting except a meat-tongs from the same sister gone. now ‘metrius in brooklyn every night drinking hard, under: he eh have no reason to go home, no woman, no comfort, jes’ a mattress on the floor; yuh overstand wha’ going on leading up to current events here now…

as is friday, the boys limin’ since wuk done; yuh done know ‘metrius well+properly drunk from the earlies.

we on the outside when who should come walking down the road but maria selfsame sister. frank make she out 1st and as she+’metrius eyes make 4, frank try to pull rank, under, he brush it first, but ‘metrius eh even hear, he done rush the gyal, rinsing out she ears. we eh hearing nutting until she stop by the corner and finally answer-back, louder with every word, “i do not care what you drank tonight or any other night; jus’ ‘cause you cyah stop talk doh mean people hadda listen! you need to learn to keep yuh blasted mouth close!” and she quick-turn and cross away from brooklyn and leave he right dey crying like a little bitch.

frank and them catching kicks on ‘metrius head and he jes’ crying, watching maria sister walk away, so i feel bad for the man and buy him a nex’ rounds. but as i stepping back out to the pavement with the beers here now, i find all the boys quiet quiet, nobody even heckling ‘metrius again, everybody staring out the road like douen call they name. when i watch wha’ they watching, who i should see walking towards brooklyn bar here now, but maria sheself!

men waiting to see wha’ go go on; she eh realise ‘metrius by the corner, and he eh see she neither ‘cause he busy tryna quick-wipe tears to show face with we again.

i studying to distract the man with beers until she pass but before i reach ‘metrius, cutters come from inside the bar behind me, see she, make out the scene in a one, and buss out one loud, long wajang laugh, bawling and holding he belly. and as he start to shake, nex’ ting he drunk ass turn+vomit all over my fuckin’ shoes, hoss! i cuss he arse and make for the bathroom one time- me eh tryna smell like somebody else vomit rest of the night. he follow me to the toilet to finish vomit, and me eh know wha’ cutters eat so but he stank up the damn place so much, after nearly 10minutes i cyah tell if the small-wash even help; is like he stench following me…

but, waaayyy…look…maria stop by demetrius on the corner, like we eh miss plenty…9minutes is nutting! look ting now start…