Memorial and Beyond

I have never really spent much of a Memorial Day at the cemetery.  That’s not to say I don’t remember my family and friends no longer physically with us; I just don’t.

Yesterday was different.  Yesterday many things happened.  I was in the hospital Thursday evening into the wee hours (6p-5a) of Friday morning.  I slept most of Friday and was careful the rest of the day with whatever went into my stomach.  But, Saturday I went to a movie with a good friend, ate at my beloved Cracker Barrel (carefully), and stopped by Mom’s to check on her.  I intended to only stay a bit, but she and I started talking and, before we knew it, we were at the cemetery taking care of Sis, Dad, Mom’s parents and my Great Aunt and Uncle. All were lain straight in a row. We put up flags and such.  It became a part of the rest of the cemetery, all alight with the best plastic flowers, cloth flags, and  even some metal pots of memorial bouquets.  The once-solemn and mostly green plots lit up with brightness, sending joy to those empty bones lying below, but also being noticed by their souls surrounding all of us.  It was nice.  I took a moment and remembered.  I will try to remember it next year as well.  In fact, perhaps, more often when I feel the need for nonjudgmental company.

Speaking of judgments, I have to mention that very early today (Sunday) I received notice that a short story I wrote for a person on fiverr.com was accepted for publication. No money involved, just a complimentary issue, but published nonetheless. It has been a memorable weekend.

Namaste,

Scott

Got His Goat: A Grave Story

Hey, Norima!  How you doin’?

“I’m fine, James. but I thought you took that job at the cemetery to make extra money?”

“I did.  It’s to mow the grass around the graves by 4pm every Saturday.”

“It’s 2:30 now.  Are you done already?”

“No, but farmer Nickols sold me his goat.  I tied it to a tree at the cemetery and it’s had nearly 4 hours to roam and eat the grass.”

“James!  It’s sheep that eat all that grass.  Goats eat tin cans and such.”

James began a heavy run toward the cemetery.  He shouted over his shoulder,

“Fired! First Day!”

*100 words

*I remember this prompt and the direction I took it in.  Thought it was time for a non-violent change!

Namaste,

Scott

 

A Life-Changing Video PG

I don’t know if the prompt sites I normally use will post anything this wonderful holiday week.  So, I decided to post something not holiday, but so very important that I will ask you to take the 5 minutes you usually use to read my story and watch the video below.  It can be a life-changer.  Will you let it?

Namaste,

Scott

Friday Fictioneers – 7/12/13 – A very Grave Nanny – PG13

Scott L Vannatter

Friday Fictioneers

7/12/13 100 Words

A Very Grave Nanny

________________

“Come on!”  Stevie yelled.  I tried hard to catch up.

We entered the small, local cemetery and he pointed.  I watched, following his finger with my eyes.

“See?  Told you!  Gregory was cursed for having that purple eye and was turned into a chicken by the demon of the cemetery.”

I punched Stevie.  “That’s a nanny goat, not a chicken.”

“God!  It’s even worse!”  Stevie ran off; I shook my head.

I started to walk away; the goat whined.  I turned to pat its head.

It looked at me with that one purple eye and I fell twice running away.