Mario and Maria kissed. Haley's comet did not stripe by in a glow of burning light. The planets did not millennially align in stellar salute. The sun neither blinked nor smiled. The Earth quaked not a single iot'. Waves did not rise from the sea to embrace the waiting shore. Orchestras did not synchronously chime into a melodic tribute to love. Internet traffic did not register an increase in searches for kisses or kissing. Humanity did not instantaneously freeze in posture and gasp a collective unison of sudden awe. And nothing mythological happened either, such as Mario changing to a woman while Maria grew into a man, an ordained effect of an eternally forgotten god of universal gender. But the moment their tongues touched everything turned orange.
Story #374
THanks to the storywriters who contributed their take on this photo!
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News 1: Songblessed is an island of creativity and beautiful ideas which somehow came into existence in the middle of the blogosphere. You may recognize the blog hostess Pizazz the Pyrate Queen from her photograph in a previous story.
Note 2: Several weeks ago I posted a couple of my stories written when I was 11 years old. I then reposted the entire set of stories at a new address, and thought the matter finished. But something strange has happened. I encountered this post at Waking Ambrose, and the indeterminacy11 site has mysteriously returned to life.
11 comments:
It was worth a resurrection.
He wasn't quite sure that he really should do it, but after all, he had nothing to loose. After weeks of misery and desperation he had to do something to end this condition. It was the first time a girl broke his heart. Before that he was always the one to leave first, but then it stroke him, and it stroke heard & deep, like never before - she was the one, he new that, or believed it then. That's why he became careless, let her approach to far into his inner self and then crash him to pieces. Danny - his best friend - couldn't bare to look at him like this anymore. Hence he told him about this girl in the orange house. It was standing on the grounds of the municipal botanic garden, surrounded with orange trees, orange-colored gerberas, roses and irises. Some said, she was a witch, others, that she was a fairy. Most didn't believe in the stories told about her and just thought, she was strange. But Danny was desperate, he wanted his best friend back, the way he was before, not in this heartbroken state of mind and persuaded him to go to her. So there he was, standing in front of the orange house, amid aroma of ripe oranges and fragrance of flowers. Finally he went inside. She was already waiting. Somehow she reminded him of his girlfriend, well ex-girlfriend actually and the more he looked at her the more the resemblance grew. He couldn't abstain himself from kissing her, so he did. After a long, wet and breathtaking kiss he felt nothing. He gazed at her - she looked different now. "What happened?" With a smile she took his hand and led him outside into the garden. There she showed him an orange iris. "Your heartache must have been really strong, the iris is almost glowing orange." "But why do i feel so strange now?" "To get rid of your broken heart you had to abdicate love forever, now it will bloom in my garden, with all the others - there is nothing without a prize."
Three on a match is bad luck, they say.
Two on a breathmint is good luck unless one has a cold.
People came from all around to see the world's first set of fraternal conjoined twins.
Yes, resurrections of this kind are necessary..
Thanks everyone for stopping by - I've been really swamped this week with work, but I think I will be able to post my story tonight.
Jay: Thanks also for your comment here - at first I thought it was a caption for the photo, which was nice and reflective, but my muse told me probably referred to bringing out my historical writings.
Anonymous: I'm afraid to read your story until I post mine, because it will make me want to throw it away and start over. So whoever you are (I know actually ;-) thanks!)
Mushroom: My first story ever was about Fishermen's Friends, those breathmints, and how awful they are.
Doug: I was thinking siblings, too. (I wrote two different stories before coming up with the third, that at least meets my indeterminacy standards, whatever those are).
Cooper: I think I might be in my second childhood.
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Will post my story tonight after polishing.
Anonymous:
I thought your story was highly poetic - never suspected how it would end. I like girls who are strange.
Fisherman's Friend is not a breathmint, it's a throat lozenge. It's not supposed to appeal to anyone, including the sucker sucking on one. :)
Your story reminds me of when I used to eat those orange creamsicle ice cream bars. If kisser tasted like that, mmmm!
No self respecting boy woud ever kiss a girl you can get cooties! The ice creem sounds nice!
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