International Monkey Day (Homophone/Rhyme Story)

“Kate, in celebration of International Monkey Day, on December 14th, let’s compose a short story to give us writers ideas to monkey around with,” said Sam, as he looked out the tenth storey window.

“How funky,” replied Kate, “a tale about a tree swinging tail.”

Sam started off with, “Once there was plunky, chunky monkey, arms raised above his head…not scared of any guerilla gorilla was he. Nope, this spunky fellow was no flunky. While others messed up their furs in the furze, his days of play were a daze.”

“I bet he was clunky,” said Kate. “No giros will be issued for his banana purchases…but, maybe he only eats gyros,” she laughed.

“Let’s be serious Kate. He only eats lox, so as to not mess up his locks. And he’s no flunkey, this spunkie monkey!”

Their conversation went on for some thirty minutes. Finally, Sam said that they had explored the idea long enough, “We’d best weed out any bad thoughts, before this conversation becomes word gunky.”

Kate agreed, “Any more would augur poor judgement like an auger on wood.”

And so, to keep the monkey conversation from getting skunky, they avoided letting it wane by boarding Kates wain, and they rolled off into the sunset.

(International Monkey Day, by Steven S. Walsky, December 2017.)

Hope you have a fun International Monkey Day…far too many people overlook this holiday because, as Sam said, they’re too busy monkeying around  🙂


Masque (homophone flash fiction)

The elder land baron looked at the barren landscape and thought how the beech looked as if it was on a beach. It was the miner standing next to him who should no longer be a minor participant in use of the estate. The industrious words he had used to mask his true intentions had become a serious masque of death and destruction. Once the current contract was signed, and they were tied to his development plans, the tide had ebbed; the farming productivity current moved out, and even the currants dried up.

Now the lone land baron, his other partners having moved to the Capital, wondered who would loan him sufficient capital to buy the man out, and re-fertilize the land. Could he purl enough money to turn the land once again into a pearl? He looked into the mirror and could see the reflection of the once idol who was now idle. He thought ‘from earn to urn’.

Then at dinner, over a steak, with a possible partner, he offered the prospect a stake. Of course he was careful not to induce another idiot who would prospect the land. Thus he voiced his principles, and made known that he, the land baron, was, no questions asked, the principal lead for the redevelopment. Thankfully, the man could deal with that demand. Thus, with his intentions to deal with the land destruction issue voiced and accepted, the deal closed.
(Masque, © Steven S. Walsky, October 2017, is a work of fiction.)

door to discovery (flash fiction/poem)

It was Saturday, and Fred stood motionless in front of the shopping mall café window. His eyes did not even move, and his breath was held tight. Those passing behind him did not notice, as they were either intent on looking for bargains, or in deep conversations about what would be on TV that night. Fred could see their reflections in the window, but his mind was too fixated on the doughnuts to care. ‘Doughnuts’, what a name he thought, ‘did it imply that nutty people could have money?’

Jokes aside, Fred knew that he should not even walk into the café; the aroma alone would set off his ‘feed me’ alarm. Nevertheless, within his mind, Fred could taste the butterscotch icing! Then, thinking about how tomorrow was still hours away, and discovery makes one’s day sway, he walked through the ‘door of discovery’!

I’ve come to count
on human drama
on stories that unfold
and on ones yet told

How can I do that
people ask in wonder
with looks on their faces
like rolling thunder

And so I reply
it’s quite simple
just look to the sky
and believe pigs can fly
(door to discovery, © Steven S. Walsky, October 2017.)