Posted in What Pegman Saw

The Last Will and Testament of Jo

I, Josephine Whitlock
Being of sharp mind, contemptuous wit and shoddy body
Hereby declare
This is it.
This is where I want it to be. 
Endlessly facing every direction …
Reflecting on endless painted skies,
Delightfully wavering in every wisp of breeze,
Soaking in each tear drop of dew …
I want every man or woman,
Nay, every soul who tries to mow me down
With insistence that I’m nothing but a weed …
Tell them all
Where one bloom has been picked
Another will be.
This, right here, among mountains laid in childhood tales
And roads to scenic tourist highs
Shall be crested for eternity.
These crossroads of divination,
Leading not to heaven or hell,
These banks
Are where wildflowers thrive.
So scatter my ashes.
Plant me here.
And bring your children,
Your grandchildren,
Spin stories galore
But make sure they know
The stories of Old Wacky Jo.

Word Count: 149

After so, so very long not participating in What Pegman Saw I’m making an attempt this week. The location is Bridal Veil Falls, Utah.

As a side note: Is anyone else using this new editor layout and having trouble adjusting?

Posted in friday fictioneers

Biblical

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

He ran his fingers through the raging water. The boss was right, the rapids were tumultuous enough. The rabid water ripped gentle leaves below the surface, corrupting them beyond recognition.

“We’re all absorbed into chaos eventually.”

His walkie buzzed to life, “Tomas, are you ready?”

The boss said nothing would change without the influence of old words …

“Ready.” His voice was steady but only now did Tomas feel the sun beating down on his neck.

The first strings of red rushed through the rapids towards the town water supply.

They would pay for their dependence on old words today.

Word Count: 100

Many thanks to
Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers!