Art and the philosophy of life

Posts tagged ‘A very short story’

A mom’s love…

“Don’t forget the flea powder.”

“Mom, for the thousandth time, I DON’T need flea powder.”

“I know darling, it’s just in case.  I mean you are going to be in the woods.”

“I’m not bringing it.  Everyone would laugh at me and think I was weird.”

“Okay, Sweetie.  You have a wonderful time.  Don’t eat anything that will make you sick.  Remember the last time.”

“I’ll be more careful.”

“I put some surprises in your back pack and an extra pair of shorts and sweatpants, along with a hoodie, or sweatshirt jacket, whatever you call them nowadays, in your duffle bag.”

“I packed enough clothes, but thank you.”

“Take pictures when you get there, if you can.”

“Yes, mom.”

“Am I being too protective?”

“Yes, you are, but it’s okay.  I understand.  Just take it down a notch.  I’ll be fine.  Besides, David and Cory are going, so we’ll all be together.”

“It’s only your second time.”

“I’ve been out with you and with dad, I’m good at what I do.”

“I know you are.  I put sandwiches in your duffle bag, as well. For you and the others.  You’re growing boys and I know how hungry you all get.”

He nodded.  “We all do, so I’m sure we’ll be happy to have them.”

“Cory’s mother is dropping the three of you off and I’ll pick everyone up in three days.”

“Yes.  I know.”

“So, have fun and remember that you are loved.”

“I will, and I know.”

His mother laughed.  “You be a good werewolf, and run faster than the others.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will.  Howl as loud as you like, and tell the boys I said, no fighting to the death.”

“They already know that.  We wouldn’t be going if the club didn’t have rules.”

“Of course.”

“There’s the car.  See you in three days,” he said, giving her a quick hug.

“Enjoy your transformation, Baby.”

“I will.”

His father walked into the kitchen and said, “Have fun, son.”

“Our little cub is growing up,” sighed his mother

“He is.   One day, I hope he’ll take my place as Alpha.”

She bit her lip.  “Think he’ll be strong enough?”

He smiled.  “Most definitely.  Feel like a run?”

She slipped out of her dress, shook out her fun, and took off.



A very short story about sleepless nights…

“MOM!  I can’t sleep,” he yelled from his bed.

His mother walked into the room.  “Do you have your earplugs in?”

He shook his head.”

“You know you can’t sleep without them.  Just put them in and read your book for a few minutes, and you’ll be asleep in no time.”

“Why do they have to be so loud?”

“It’s just the way dinosaurs are, sweetie.  You know that.”

“Fine,” he said, putting his earplugs in.  “But I don’t know why they have to fight right outside our window every night.”

“Neither do I, but I’m not going to be the one to tell them to leave,” she snickered.

He smiled, and pulled up the covers.  “I wonder what it’s like not living with dinosaurs?”

“No idea,” she said, kissing his forehead.  “Sweet dreams.”


Photo: Stephen Leonardi


A very short story about a lamb and life in general.

“Yes,” said the lamb.  “I know a girl named Mary.”

“Do you follow her to school each day?” asked the man.

“Why would I do that?”

“I thought lambs followed Mary to school.”

“I don’t. The school’s right over there,” said the lamb, looking across the street. “I’ve never seen lambs at the school.”

“So you aren’t the lamb in the nursery rhyme?”

“What nursery rhyme?”

“The one about Mary and her little lamb.”

“I’m unfamiliar with that rhyme,” sighed the lamb, “and I’m busy, so what do you want?”

“I just thought…” stammered the man.

“I think you should go away,” said the lamb, “or I’ll call my mom and dad.”

“I thought lambs were nice.”

“We know humans are deadly.”

“Not all of us,” he said.

“BAAAAAAAAAAAH  BAAAAAAAH,” wailed the lamb.

The man turned and ran, as two huge sheep quickly made their way toward him.

Life’s like that, you know.  We don’t really know which lamb the rhyme was written about, and we never know which humans are deadly, until it’s too late.



Photo:  Jessica Fadel




Wings…a very short story.

Young Blond Woman Disguised as Angel Kneeling on Bus with Hands Clasped

Put them away,” whispered the boy, quickly looking around.  “You’re supposed to keep them hidden.”

“I don’t care,” she said.  “They need to breath, once in awhile.  Besides, people aren’t looking, and even if they were, no one would see them.”

“You’re still not supposed to take your wings out when you’re on earth.”

“But it feels so good to stretch them,” she sighed.  “I don’t see how it hurts anything.”

“What if you get caught?”

“What if I do,” she said, angrily.  “They’re my wings and I should be able to do whatever I want to do with them.”

“You know it doesn’t work that way.”

“Who said it doesn’t?  Aren’t you sick of following rules made up by others?  I am, and I’m not going to do it any longer.  I don’t want to be controlled and live according to what someone else wants.”

“They’ll erase you,” he said.  “For good.”

“They have to catch me first.”

“They will.  They always do.”

“Not always,” she said.

“Don’t kill too many humans in one place,” he warned.  “They’ll look for that.”

“I’m not stupid,” she said.  “Of course I won’t.”

“I hope I see you again sometime, but….”

“I’ll miss you too,” she said, softly.  “Be careful, and be strong.”

He nodded, and disappeared.

She sat on the floor of the bus, closed her eyes, and breathed in the sweet smell of blood, running through the living bodies sitting in the seats behind her.



Photo:  Anastasiia Shevchenko







The bike…a very short story.

Black And Silver Motorcycle

The bike simply appeared.  She looked at it, and knew that her life would never be the same.  She pulled on her gloves, threw her leg over the seat, and listened to the motor rumble its eagerness to be off.

Ten year later, she was still on the road.  Never staying anywhere, always headed for someplace else, because the only thing that mattered…was the road.


Photo:  Artem Beliaikin



Margo…a 2 sentence short story

Woman With Joker Makeup

Margo was a make-up artist at a high-end department store.  Then she met Brad and her life went in an entirely different direction.


Photo:  Michael Noel

A dog named kitty…a very short story

Curious dog standing near shabby blue wall with shadows of group of people on street in city in bright daylight

Kitty was a stray.  She lived on the street and often slept in doorways and back yards.  People would often pet her and call her by name.  She belonged to everyone and was well cared for.

But Kitty wasn’t like other dogs.  She had an active imagination and the heart of a poet. She would walk through town, dreaming that she had a family who loved her. Now and then, her dreams showed up in the shadows around her.  When she dreamed, she was never alone.  Her imaginary family was always with her and she was always loved.


Photo:  Gato Villanova

Neon…at very short story.

good vibes only signage

“Are you in line?” he asked.

“No,” she said.  “I’m just standing here.  I’m not going into the bar.”


“Why what?” she asked.  “Why am I just standing here, or why am I not going into the bar?”

“Both,” he said.

“Read the sign.  Good Vibes Only, and I’m miserable tonight, so I can’t go in with those kinds of vibes.”

“Maybe I’ll see you on the way out, then,” he said.

“Maybe.  If I’m still here.”



Photo:  Victor



A very short story…

brown trees with red leaves“The colors are all wrong,” she said, looking around.

“What do your mean?” he asked.   “How can colors look wrong?”

“I don’t know, but they are.  Everything is too bright and fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” he chuckled.  “Really?”

She shrugged.  “So much red.  I mean the yellow is pretty, so is the pink,  but everything is…too psychedelic.  Don’t you see that?”

“It looks the way it always does,” he said, staring at the trees.

“I don’t think I like it here,” she said, suddenly.

“Then you better go,” he sighed, reaching for her hand.  But she was already gone.

He stood alone on the path, knowing she was back in her body, waking up to a new day, in a place  where the colors made more sense.   He could only hope she would  dream him again when she closed her eyes.



Photo:  Wolfgang Hasselman




Isabella…a very short story.

Grayscale Photography of Woman

everyone thinks I’m sweet
and so very well behaved
that I would never do anything
I shouldn’t
but who is to say what I
should or
shouldn’t do
I love to
and party
but I look like an angel
to my family
who thinks
I’m Snow White

let’s make that
our little
shall we



Photo:  Suzy Hazelwood

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