Welcome to Cappuccino Tales. 🙂
Short stories of no less than 500 words plus poetry for your reading pleasure and I invite all comments/critiques!!!
I hope you enjoy them.
Birds, Bees and a Beagle
I was an innocent nine year old skipping to the woods to pick bluebells for my mum. My older brother, the reluctant chaperone, lagged far behind me. As I reached the corner of the street a black and tan beagle trotted amiably towards me and I reached out my hand to stroke him. His tail wagged in delight as I tickled his ears.
“Good doggy, nice doggy” I cooed.
By this time my brother had caught up with me and urged me to hurry up so that he could get back home to do less irksome things than babysit. I turned away from my furry friend but as I attempted to continue my adventure he leapt onto my back sending me crashing to the ground. My hands slapped the pavement hard and I felt the skin break on my knees. The beagle shoved his wet snout between my legs and began to snort. Dazed and breathless I attempted to pick myself but once again my four legged assailant sent me sprawling and I could feel his slaver on my neck as he danced frantically on my back.
“Help me” I screamed.
My long, dark bunches were shaken loose. I could not see my brother through the mass of dangling hair but I could hear him laughing. I began to cry pitifully, fearful of the dog that I believed was trying to bite me, but mainly at my brothers’ cruel reaction. After what seemed an eternity the beagle leapt off my back yelping in agony from the blow of Matts boot.
Sitting on the kerb I examined my torn knees and picked out the little stones embedded in my palms. My brother sat at my side and put his arm lazily around my shoulder. At first I wanted to punch him for laughing at me but I forgave him as I always did. Then he leant towards me and whispered softly in my ear.
What a sight I was when I burst into the house. Dishevelled, bleeding and sobbing hysterically I threw myself into my mothers’ arms. She stiffened and the colour drained from her face. Slowly she knelt down and put her face to mine and, fearing the answer, gently coaxed me to tell her what had happened.
I wailed and sniffled my way through the whole story about the naughty beagle and my horrible brother but before I could finish my mother let out a twinkly laugh and pulled me close enveloping me in her ample bosoms.
“There, there” she clucked “Everything’s fine now sweetheart, no damage done”.
Fearfully I looked into her smiling face knowing that I had to tell her everything and praying that she wouldn’t be angry.
“But mum you don’t understand,” I whined.
“That horrible dog was dancing on my back and Matt says I’m ruined now because that means I’m going to have puppies.”
Prayer for the Hungover
Give me the strength to make it out of bed
To move my aching bones out of this nest
To stop the evil throbbing in my head
And cough up last nights smoke from off my chest
Give me the grace to make it to the door
Before my stomach has the chance to rise
And guide me as I blindly cross the floor
Congealed mascara welding shut my eyes
Give me the dignity to hit the bowl
And not get any splash back in my hair
Pray I have a good supply of loo roll
And help me find my missing underwear
But most of all please promise not to laugh
At “naked stranger” snoring in the bath.
A Love Story
You crushed my skull
You drank fetid tears
and the stench
ignited your rave.
You ate me,
your rose on it’s pyre
You pounded my flesh
with meticulous barbed wire,
you peeled me away
You skewered my chest
and your words dove in.
You scraped out my carcass
sucked me up, shat me out
and dismembered the shell.
You stole me.
Carve me a heart
Place it in a box
Bury the key
in molten lava.
Give me peace
I care not which.