Lensdiary

Responding to Reena’s prompt #255, based on the above image.https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2022/11/03/reenas-xploration-challenge-255/

_____________________________________________________________________

He glanced casually at the TV screen, always switched on for background noise, and jumped up pumping his fist in the air, “Wow! What a beauty and she has just thrown her hat into the ring to compete for leadership of the party. She has my vote anytime.”

His wife looked exasperated, ” so, an unknown wants to become leader, and according to you her main claim to leadership is her beauty. Give me a break”.

Her husband’s fragile ego, starting to take a beating, responded vehemently, ” It’s not only her looks, did you hear her speech, she is so eloquent, passionate, and that melodious voice, it could sink a thousand ships”.

At the supper table later that evening his wife observed.” I looked your candidate up on Wikipedia. Her name is Leonore Charybdis, she’s of Greek descent and inherited wealth, her great-grandfather made his money from salvaging shipwrecks.”

Her husband nodded wisely, he had already completed his research and decided that Leonore would receive his vote. He was truly smitten and had watched every YouTube video he could find on her life.

A year later, Leonore Charybdis, and her party, came away with a landslide victory to begin their four-year term as rulers of the country. Her victory speech was hailed as the speech of the century, as she beguiled the population with the improvements she would make to their living standards, and how she would go about improving their position on the world stage.

Two years later and the husband and wife were enjoying their cocktail hour on the porch of their new house, both having had substantial raises due to the prosperity of their company, mirroring the overall prosperity in the land.

The husband was in a celebratory mood, ” let’s drink a toast to our Prime Minister, Leonore Charybdis, long may she reign, and bring increased prosperity to our land”.

His wife clinked her glass against his and after a thoughtful silence, decided she needed to give vent to her frustrations, ” aren’t you a little alarmed about how much of the country’s prosperity is based on “defense” spending, and the new legislation restricting the use of social media, and the new euthanasia laws for the disabled”

The husband’s expression darkened, ” why are you spoiling this lovely evening, with all your doom and gloom, enjoy your prosperity, Leonore Charybdis, is the leader our country needs at this time, she is strong, articulate, and charismatic, and we are no longer a country that others can push around”.

Two years later the husband kissed his wife goodbye as he boarded the train to take him to the front. He was in the trenches looking fondly at the photo of, Leonore Charybdis, his Prime Minister when the bullet shattered his skull.

He was groping blindly in the night, floating in a black hole that sucked all the light and energy from his universe, was that a faint sound he could hear in the distance, a repeated echo trying to penetrate his consciousness.

He awoke to the discordant beep, beep, of the alarm, haunting echos of the previous night persisting in his tired brain as he stumbled from bed to complete his morning toiletry.

His wife was at the table, eating breakfast, eyes intent on her iPad, he pecked her cheek and stated that he was working late tonight, don’t make supper for him.

Inching out of the driveway, the incessant chatter in his head started like a thousand demons pounding on his skull, with a mighty effort he sought relief by concentrating on steering his way through the heavy traffic.

Sitting at his desk in the office, concentrating on the computer screen, he sensed he wasn’t alone, he had an eerie feeling he was being scrutinized by an unknown entity and found wanting.

Later that afternoon, driven to distraction by his conscience, he pressed his cell phone and canceled his after-work assignation with Joyce Taylor, the company Vice-President.

Father Mahoney, after a long day caring for his parishioners, entered Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church and knelt for his daily 10:00 p.m. meditation on the Body of Christ, the Eucharistic host enclosed in the Tabernacle.

Relaxed and focusing his mind on the Tabernacle, he entered a portal that transported him to ancient Israel, and he concentrated his vision on the hands of Jesus, as his savior worked miracle after miracle on the gathering crowds.

Kate Walsh, the mother of six rambunctious and unpredictable children, slipped quietly out of the house, while her husband watched baseball on TV, and walked the short distance to our Lady of Mount Carmel Church.

She sat at the back of the church praying for her husband and children, her controlling mind wandering over the events of the day, Stevens’s growing insolence, Maggie’s failing grades, her husband spending more time away from the family, and a hundred other burdens she bore.

Father Mahoney in deep contemplation on the miracles of Jesus, overflowed with the power of the Spirit, trying to contain the ecstasy building up inside him, knowing it was of the flesh and not the spirit.

Kate Walsh, unable to still her monkey mind, flooded with images of perceived family shortcomings concluded she was becoming a devouring mother and needed to offer an olive branch to her husband and children.

I am so excited, only ten minutes to wait before my self-identification ceremony, and I reveal my deepest, innermost self to family and friends.

The superstitious religious dogmas of the past have mostly given way to fact-based science, and mankind has made significant progress in self-understanding and enlightenment.

I am really lucky in having an uncle who received a Doctorate in Body Shaping and Structure from the University of Guelph, so the $2,500,000 cost of my self-identification is free.

Uncle Theodore sat me down and discussed all the surgical procedures needed for self-identification, and I pointed out to him that everything had to be natural, with no synthetics or factory-made parts.

We spent weeks together researching the appropriate parts and I became dizzy from poring through catalogs and following up with field studies to determine the most aesthetic-looking transplants.

I step from behind the curtain, my cloven gazelle hooves burnished, as are the two goat horns protruding from my brows, my monkeys tail gyrates to my movements, and my red skin glows brightly in the lights as I turn to my family and proclaim, “I self identify as the devil”.

Susan, strolled through the park looking for a quiet spot to eat her lunch, far away if possible from the picnicking families, and their noisy children playing tag, throwing balls, and indulging in their childish pastimes.

Spying a bench with an old man sitting on one end, she quickened her pace to claim the opposite end, before some intruder laid claim to the same prize.

The old man’s gaze was fixed firmly on the horizon, and she tried not to stare at the white opaque film covering his eyes; not that he was going to notice, she thought.

Seating herself in the opposite corner of the bench from the old man and unwrapping her sandwich she chewed mechanically, as she cast him tentative sideways looks.

Suddenly the old man shifted in his seat and intoned, ” There is a whiff of change in the air, a restlessness that refuses to recede, woe to them that remain in their ignorance and slumber because a reckoning is nigh”.

Susan, quickly re-wrapped her sandwich, and flew from the bench, thinking, isn’t there anywhere around here that I can get some peace and quiet to eat my lunch.

Bobby managed the Krazee Katz Club over on 5th street five days a week, catering to the monied higher class, dance-crazy crowd. He was everywhere, slapping backs, high-fiving, suave, discrete, and allowing a certain amount of minor criminal activity to pass unnoticed.

Connie, hearing the shower from the upstairs bathroom, started breakfast, careful to cook the eggs sunny side up, the bacon to an even crispness, and the toast to medium perfection, inspecting the plate carefully before putting it on the table. Hearing the shower turned off, she quickly surveyed the kitchen for cleanliness and then poured the coffee to place alongside the breakfast plate.

Connie sat tentatively in the chair opposite Bobby, watching for signs, relaxing a little as he appeared to be in a good mood. Connie seeing Bobby finish his coffee ran to retrieve the coffee pot, in her haste to pour she accidentally spilled a drop on his pants, and tensed for what was coming.

George, fat, buck teeth, squinty eyes, the refrain from his high school class forever playing in his mind, ” Georgie Porgie, pudding, and pie kissed the girls and made them cry, when the boys came out to play, Georgie Porgie ran away”. George not caring about the jibes of others is blessed with an even disposition, always happy, especially consuming a large chocolate extreme Blizzard from Dairy Queen. George, is physically comfortable in the water, the cushioning effect on his bulk allowing him to move more freely, and gracefully than on land.

George standing on the beach, stomach protruding, eating a chocolate bar, looking into the distance seeing obvious signs of distress, and reacting instantly. George the hero, rescuing a drowning boy, bewildered by the applause and praise from the onlookers witnessing his heroic act. George, fat, buck-toothed, squinty eyes, igniting a spark of decency and camaraderie into a small crowd on a sunny beach, hoping that spark will become a flame.

I have just logged on to WordPress, for the first time since October 1, last year. My wife got sick. She had a severe attack of pancreatitis last October, called the ambulance, she was in hospital for six weeks, developed pneumonia, had three tubes inserted to drain abscesses that had formed. Couldn’t eat, was very,very weak, but time heals everything, or so she thought. Had the tubes taken out, but some evil smelling pus started leaking like a tap from the wound in her side. Went back to hospital with a blood infection. Had tube reinserted. Tube now taken out and she is feeling a little better. Still an ongoing process. I have been chief cook and bottle washer, and after 49 years of marriage now fully understand the mysteries of the washing machine and dryer. I could write volumes on the sad state of the health care system in Ontario, Canada. The shortage of nurses which led to a few unfortunate episodes, the cancellation and extreme delays of appointments, etc.etc.etc. I have developed some nursing skills in flushing tubes, changing bandages, and generally becoming quite self sufficient in managing health concerns, and not relying on the health care system. So my nursing duties are lighter my household skills have become a humdrum routine and I feel the urge to express myself on WordPress……oh……and I’ve had a few beers while writing this. So here we go………

Lenore, was gifted genetically by God with a beautifully formed face, lean vivacious body and an enchanting voice that mesmerized all who listened. She was Gods perfect creation, for does not our Judeo/Christian heritage state unequivocally that God has sole control over the creation of matter, and everything God creates is good. Unfortunately, God has no control over free will. So in that unknowable process of transitioning from matter to consciousness, we pass through unchartered territory where the devil lurks, whispering insidious thoughts. In transcending from the physical to the metaphysical we listen to the devil at our own peril.

Lenore, loved Disney movies. Her favorite characters were Cruella DeVille, the Wicked Queen from Snow White and the cobra, Kaa, from Jungle Book. She couldn’t decide which of these persona’s to adopt; over the top evil, shadowy and sinister, or hypnotically alluring. She practiced various poses daily in front of the mirror and eventually decided, hypnotically alluring, suited her best. She visited theatrical stores and harvested a selection of exotic gowns that showcased her body to perfection. She left a trail of broken hearts through high school. With the girls it was social media shaming, gossip and innuendo and with the boys it was toying with their affections. Thriving on the despair of humanity, she hoped for more of the same at university.

After studying various personnel at the university her eyes alighted on the history professor. He was a bookish loner, usually muttering to himself as he walked along, eyes fixed on the ground locked in deep thought and she was intrigued. She had tried to make eye contact with him, invariably failing, and this only made her more intent in her pursuit. She enrolled in his history class and got to work weaving her spell. She soon gained his attention and they began chatting after class, she listening politely and attentively as he expounded on some ancient tome. They soon began to take long walks around the university grounds, sipped coffee in small cafes and quite soon the history professor fell under her spell.

It was a bleak December and they were enjoying a quiet Sunday supper in his residence, having just finished desert, when she casually remarked that this would be their last time together. She thanked him for the very high mark in history that he had awarded her and explained that he was now of no further use to her. He remonstrated, pleaded, cried, all to no avail as she sat with a self satisfied smile, breathing in his despair. He staggered from his chair to the library shelf stuttering that he would like to give her a parting gift to remember him by. He reached for a book from the library shelf and carefully blew the dust from its cover. He opened the book, caressing the pages lovingly and read with tears in his eyes ” ex fide fortis exsisto a corvus”.

Lenore, felt very strange, her body twisting its shape, becoming smaller, blacker, wings were growing, she started cawing and flapping. She flew upward and alighted on the bust of Pallas. The history professor, tearfully, retreated to his ancient tome trying to forget his only love, Lenore.

Footnote: I was reading Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven” and couldn’t resist.

It’s been a very long three months process, but I’ve finally moved, changed my email address and kind of settled in my new community. It’s been quite the ride.

At the beginning of June my wife and I decided to downsize and move to a smaller community. I am approaching my mid seventies, my wife is a tender seventy and we decided it would be less stress to downsize now rather then in our eighties. We spent two months searching, being outbid by a wide margin on the houses we liked, finally touching down on a one floor townhouse, in a new development in Kincardine, Ontario. We then had to sell/giveaway two thirds of our furniture and empty two very large storage rooms of accumulated treasures. My wife parted with around twenty purses she had accumulated over fifty years, but refused to downsize her shoes. I also refused to downsize my Folio Book collection, which ended up being packed in around twenty boxes.

So here we are in Kincardine, population 12,000, boarding on Lake Huron. The first day I explored it took forty minutes to walk from our house, all around downtown Kincardine and back again. Anywhere you want to go, grocery store, liquor store, community center, hospital, is no more than a 2-3 minute drive. We have spent the first few days at the beach, trying to forget the umpteen boxes waiting for us to unpack. Our national telecommunication company did not service this area, so we had to change to the local one. Took a month before they could could send a technician to supply us with WI-FI. They do not work weekends and do not book appointments after 1:30 p.m.Monday-Friday. We call it Kincardine time. Who’s in a hurry any way.

So, I’m finally up and running with WI-FI, changed my email address, discovered the wonders of exploring WordPress to housekeep all the changes and……hopefully…….can now start to receive email from followers, fingers crossed.

Happy days are here again.