The Boys at the Top

 

After work, after the business of life, the team had been eager to settle at the nearest watering hole. It had been a rough day.

Hey, Jim. How did the office manage all that blow back from the big guys up at the top?
   

"Well, you can imagine, Tom. It blew them all away. I mean, what did they expect when the stink settled down after the clean-up crew took care of the rot?"

Again, all nodded. The fifth co-worker, Kevin piped up. "I'm exhausted. We complain every day. Can't do anything about them. They can take us down without a thought."

 
  "Big guys at top? They live well, really well. I mean they go to work in their spiffy black suits,

"Big guys at top? They could eat us alive, or dead."

 

 

 

They grumbled and took off for home where family and friends lived. Come sunup, they would be at work. At sundown, they would be lined up again. 

The big bosses were already singing together their raucous out-of-tune songs. In their black suits and ties, they smiled at their success.

Silently, the crew left, singing songs of their own,

sweet songs.

Bosses of the sky, bosses of the trees 

They stayed.

The bosses in black suits

Singing raucous songs, non-stop songs

 

This is a repost of 2019 post. The blackbirds are swarming about, singing. I wonder what they are saying.

Lunch at Rita's

Best ever!

New Orleans in August is a muggy and slow month.  Walking down the French Quarter at noon left us queasy, all 6 of us.  Well, make it 6 ½ if one counts an 8 month little girl named Lily.

The heat was too much for us, so we ducked into a old, beaten-up restaurant called “Rita’s”.  It boasted air conditioning, and we didn’t even look at the menu posted in the window. 

As we walked into the boisterous dining room, full of laughter and bad jokes, the atmosphere changed, abruptly; everything went silent.  We were the only white folk in an all- black eating establishment.  The menus were slapped on the table and chipped glasses with tepid water were slid across the table.

What should we do?  What will we do?  What… were the words in our combined minds. But one thing, one event only, broke the thick air in a hostile room.

Daddy and Lily, who is about 18 months here

Lily started laughing and waving at the ones whose eyes looked at her.  “’lo..hello..” she cast around the restaurant like fairy dust.

Smiles, and “How old is she…what’s her name…?”  Conversation opened up as if we were old friends, laughter and stories.

Man, that food was unbelievable, pure New Orleans.  Forget about the famed chefs who had their own cookbooks.  This was good food.

We paid and left, saying good-bye, and Lily waving at all, “g’bye!”

Someday, if and when we return to New Orleans, we will stop at Rita’s.  Good food, good people.

A composite photo, a year after Rita's

Thursday Trauma: A Mother's Pride

Soft night

Night sky was just moments away, as the brilliant reds and purples faded to gentle soft pink.  Dusk to Night was a magical moment.

Mama waited, watching for beginning of black night.  Almost…almost…she thought, impatient for the magic to begin.

It happened.  She turned to her brood and announced, “Well, now, off you go!!”

Out they flew from the mouth of the cave: her cloud**of young bats, disappearing into the night, searching for night time bugs.   “Watch out for owls!  And, Bubba, don’t overeat!”

Another successful launch. Papa will be so proud.

Thanks for this new Thursday Trauma challenge go to Delores at Under the Porch Light .  Please check her site for some interesting and delightful prompts.

**This is the title for groups of bats.  Interesting.

Over and Done

Source: manmohan.com

All is over and done,

Rooms seem stark,

Black against White.

Shadows wander,

Chess moves,

Source: Krysztof Szkulatoski @ 12frames.eu

White against Black.

Petals losing fragrance,

Converting, dropping.

Odor of endings.

Source: jazza