Tag Archives: honour

It Pays to Have Patience

We all knew what was coming next, but that didn’t stop us from raising our hands, excitedly screaming and carrying on, “Pick Me, Pick Me!” No way, were we going to miss-out on seeing Tom Jones, and from front row seats, to boot! This was, indeed, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, not for seeing TJ, but that Mr. Twinkie bought them for us.

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The entire Manufacturing Department had been working ten hour shifts for ten weeks straight, without a day off. This isn’t easy work, as we manufacture and package those early pregnancy tests that consumers buy. The package inserts alone, give fourteen people jobs, as the FDA keeps setting standards for us to include certain information with our product. Considering that we spend each and every day, yes, we work weekends too, standing on a hard concrete floor, we’ve built our muscles strong… strong enough to see Tom Jones and become raving lunatics flailing our bodies about. Yep, if anyone’s got stamina, look no further, we can handle it!

The usual way the Company handles such offerings is by holding a lottery to those who wish to receive the gift. I’d say there was about forty of us who raised our hands, then quickly formed a single-file line to chose our tickets. We weren’t able to see the what was on the tickets, as we picked them blindly. Mine had the word ‘PATIENCE’ on it.

Later that afternoon during break time in the cafeteria, Mr. Twinkie rolled in a cart with a box o it. The box held the ripped-off stubs to our tickets, (he was always fair to us this way). He reached in and grabbed the first of three winning words. I closed my eyes, crossed my fingers and held my breath as he read the word, ‘HONOUR’. Mary screamed and ran up to get the envelope. The second stub that Mr. Twinkie reached for, said ‘CIVILITY’, silence prevailed, then J. D. put on his glasses and said, “oh, ME, ME” and went up to accept his envelope.

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Now the tension was at it’s highest level, the room became quiet and I crossed my arms and legs in addition to the other crossings for luck. It seemed as though someone stole time, the wait became painful, “DUTY was called, it is the last word”, and Mr. Twinkie pulled his glasses down and perused the room. When in walked Ellen, she went straight over to Mr. Twinkie and whispered something to him. Mr. Twinkie then said, “I’m sorry folks, but DUTY must wait. There was an error, no one has that ticket, it wasn’t picked up. A hush of relief and excitement for another chance, permeated, as Mr. Twinkie reached in that box, looked at the stub and said, “Well, since ‘DUTY’ has no taker, ‘PATIENCE’ seems to have won out!”, and with that said, I fainted but held on to that ticket so tightly. Gus could see it and he yelled that I was the third winner, then he made a comment, so I am told, “She’s practising for when Tom Jones come out onto the stage.” and the whole room chuckled.

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-dld January 11, ’11-

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T10 Take it Away, Tuesday: We all knew what was coming next

The only rule: start your story with the above sentence.

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Presumptive Ensen

Soon, I will be able to smell the salt from our own shores. Soon, I’ll be breathing in Magnificence – air so pure and far from battledust, that my lungs may collapse in relief and with honour. Relief for service without death. Honour for the men that left us too early, wearing our flag and dying for our freedoms.

The boys on the Pennsylvania were gearing up for our return. All regulation garments and bedding for our sleeping quarters were commissioned for laundry; the head, the mess, and common walks were on a strict schedule for scrubbing and every White Glove was salivating at the thought of making one of us, do some kind of compensatory dirty job in return for our poor job.

I was busy checking reports to see that the I’s were dotted, as well as commander’s signature inked on the bottom line. I often found myself whistling while I worked to clear the documents from ole Shaggy’s desk. To say I was happy that the war was over, would be an understatement, because I was ecstatic to be returning to the wife I married, but had yet to love.

It was Sunday, and there shouldn’t have been a letter in the mailbox, but there was. It came straight from Washington, marked “Classified” and I did not know where the commander was. In the confusion of trying to find his itinerary for the day, I stumbled upon a note that I knew I shouldn’t see, but I couldn’t help But see it – the note read, PREPARE FOR COORDINATES 11°35′ N 165°23′E / 11.583°N 165.383°E / 11.583; 165.383; ARRIVE 20 AUGUST, ASSIST IN OPERATION CROSSROADS.

My heart stopped. All I could think of was Shannon. How can I tell her that I won’t be coming home? How can I tell my darling that the weapons we’ll be testing may cause my death? I wonder if she still has my grandfather’s pocket watch in the nightstand. I’d like to be buried with it.

-dld nov.18, 2010

for Icarus Flight to Perfection”s Writing Challenge

I Wanted To Tell You

At the laundrymat

there are vending machines

so you may buy detergent for those tough stains or a milder brew for those delicates that need a softer touch to pounding out the day’s events.

There are also choices for softening and refreshing.

And if you wish not to know what it was that left a stain

there is bleach

which comes powedered or liquid

either one works to erase all memories of what you did or had done to you by someone you care not to remember

because they violated your honour

your purpose

your being.

Any item you choose from the machine on the wall

will make a remarkable difference in the cloth that you clothe yourself in

so that I may find you

because I do wish to find you

and tell you that last night

you were a gentleman with gentle ways

speaking ever-so gently to me

as you bent down to touch my face

and wipe the blood from my battered skin

to let me know that someone cared enough to tend to a battered woman

left for dead in a crowd of ordinary folks, passing by.

 Thank you. 

-dld august 30, 2010

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T10 writing prompt = In A Crowd