Wednesday Words: Red Carpet

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It was time for yet another illustrious Hollywood affair, complete with the fabled Red Carpet and pushy paparazzi.  Click!  Click!  Snap!  Flash!  Those were the sounds and flashes that tickle the hopefuls with hopes of fame.

Then cameras turned as another black limo braked at the foot of the Red Carpet.  The door opened as long shapely legs stretched out. Santoria Maria** emerged into the flashing lights, a statuesque beauty, the Flavour of the week in a world of gorgeous actresses.

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“Santoria Maria** displayed her fantastic Brian Atwood psychedelic boots, laced to mid-thigh….”

“Santoria Maria** is wearing a marvelously stunning  design by Amy Smilovic...”

She sauntered down the Carpet, smiling, blowing kisses as reporters called out to her.
  

Designer Amy Smilovic

The prestigious event was going so well, until Santoria Maria** tripped, falling against the glamourous actress in front of her, who toppled into the next. 

Eventually  twelve ever-hopeful beauties ended up sprawled on the Red Carpet.

It was a revealing fashion mishap moment for all. Click! Click! 

Flash!...

On hands and knees, attempting to rise gracefully, Santoria Maria** discovered that boots really were made for walking, and precious little else.

One reporter sighed.  “Another one bites the dust…I hope she can type.

**Santoria Maria is a name invented.  If there is another Santoria Maria, my sincere apologies for using this name without any undue intent.

Welcome the Wednesday Words!  Every Wednesday either Delores at Under the Porch Light  or Elephant's Child  surprise and challenge bloggers with 6 or 12 random words, or a prompt to use as we wish.  Poems, prose, fiction, flash fiction--you name it and it is yours.  Write and amaze yourself!  Access other bloggers by clicking on the amazing grapefruit on the side bar.

So far away

I'm in the northern yellow, Mary is in the green

Living 12,000 miles away from my daughter sometimes hurts so bad that my shoulders droop and my heart breaks.  So far away, I am not there to teach her many things that my mother taught me: history of Mom’s adventures, stories from my childhood, how to make a pie—and, not there to rock her little boy and sing him songs my mother sang to me.

So we watch that little boy Benjamin play, talk, cry, and grow up over the computer and hear how our daughter Mary is doing in Switzerland.  

Recently she stepped in a pothole while crossing the street, fell and twisted her ankle.  Benjamin looked down at her right next to him, still holding his hand.  He moved so he could sit on her lap and pat her shoulder, and hug her.  It’s alright, Mummy.  It’s alright.

Facebook is good as a tool to see what they are doing.  Richard, Mary, and Benjamin went to a petting zoo recently, where the goats received more than they deserved, bags of goat feed to buy; those goats were well padded.  He patted their furry goat butts, and gave them all the love and smiles that weren’t mine.

To be so very far away and watch a two year old become a three year old is a year he grew up and I grew older. 

Dang it.

...and the soldiers go marching

Memorial Day at Fort Riley

...and soldiers are marching,

Marching,

Faces to the grandstand,

On a windy day.

Marching, marching as 

A Shining Brass Band

Officiates.

The humble and brave

Pass by.

The pompous linger at edges,
Fading away.

 But the Proud
who served selflessly, 
Salute
The parade of young military

Marching...

Marching into

The soup that is past, present,and future 
History.

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These italicized word are from Delores at Under the Porch Light from the Wednesday Words of April 18, 2013

Delores posts six words on Wednesdays, challenging bloggers to juggle them around.  This was what I juggled then and now.  Thanks, Delores!