You can tell a lot about a person from her underworld

“My name is Persephone,” she said.

“Like the Greek goddess?”

“Exactly like.” She smiled, finger stirring her drink.

Guess my face must’ve communicated disbelief.

“Uh huh,” she said. “Watch.”

She spread her hands and flowers started growing right out of the polished bar top. Peonies, I think. They grew, blossomed and died again; all in the span of less than a minute. The petals wilted and fell onto the bar.

I’ve seen some interesting slight-of-hand before, but never live flowers from a chunk of dead (and varnished!) wooden bar.

She grinned wide. “Can’t figure out the trick, right?”

I brushed the leafy debris into my hand, examining it, sifting through the brown wilted flower stems and the delicate remains of petals.

“Stumped,” I said. “Never seen anything like that one.”

“Don’t worry about it, there is no gimmick. This round is on me.” She signaled the bartender.

I decided to take that advice, at least pending more information to work with.

“So um, Persephone. What brings a nice goddess like you to a bar like this?”

She laughed. (Graciously, I thought. She was being kind, with a line like that.) “Mostly, just enjoying the Spring.”

“Spring. Isn’t that your, um, thing—if I remember right?”

“Yes it is! Spring, vegetation, fertility, other stuff.” She smiled. “Demeter is Fall, harvest and grains; she’s my mum.”

I can’t really describe the rest of the evening. It was—well sorry—magical. At some point I stopped doubting any of part of her story. She produced flowering plants from unlikely places, several times. We drank, traded jokes and just enjoyed the evening together.

We ended up outside the bar, for fresh air, sitting together on a bus stop bench. As we chatted the tree behind us flowered and petals fell all around us continuously. A gentle, feather-soft vegetative rain, drifting in errant breezes. Part of Persephone’s magic, plants really seemed to “like” her. So did I. Smitten, I just have to tell you.

“So what’s next?” I asked, vaguely hoping for some excuse to continue the evening.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She touched my arm with her fingertips, suddenly looking a little sad. “I’m waiting for my ride.”

Crushing, so long hope!

“He’s coming now. It was so lovely meeting you, Dan, thank you for the wonderful time.”

I smiled weakly, trying to quickly re-arrange my features into my “Be Brave” face.

Around the corner thundered four huge horses—jet black, breathing flames. Pulling a wicked-looking chariot driven by a tall, muscled Adonis in a toga with a heavy black beard.

“My husband, Hades.” Persephone kissed my cheek and turned to face the chariot. Hades gathered her up in one arm and lifted her bodily aboard. He spared me but a single glance, then cracked his reins and the gods and horses and chariot were gone.

I suppose the entire evening could have been alcohol-induced fantasy. But her tree is still blooming.

parkinkspot sq logo

(title might need diddling; it’s a spoiler)

Inspired by today’s Picture It & Write image.

Original Image on Tumblir


Poets Pointing Pistols, Precarious!

Any time I sit down and try to write this stuff
But my brain is free of good ideas and such
Cause I should be getting sleep but doing this instead
Daily Prompts are just something that get into my head

Every one is different at least there’s that to say
For every good idea there’s a hundred bad each day
Golly I just can’t tell you how to unstick your head
Hope that some great idea finds your brain instead

I just repeated a couplet that I used higher up
Just suspect that’s cheating; the way my brain works, yup
Kibitzing and self-editing, “Man does that rhyme limp”
Loser writing poetry with all the skills of chimp

Man this post just seems like it is crazy long indeed
Nothing to be gained by devoting time to read
Oh you poor readers, I humbly offer my amends
Pickling your brains like this, surely must offend

Quit griping and write some more, you silly useless git
Reading this is painful but just keep typing it
So you can end this prompt and move on to the next thing
Tomorrow surely will the prompt some better fortune bring

Unless it draws a blank of inspiration like it often does
Very often my brain just limps through a prompt because
Well I’ll stop whining now here comes the hardest bit
“Xenogamy”, a pollen thang, shut up and deal with it

You have no complaints, at least you didn’t have to write
Zyzzyvas, 44 scrabble points! Finally I’m done, good night.

RecDave Seal

Write down the letters of the ABC. For each one, choose a word that begins with that letter. Now, write a post about anything — using all the words you’ve selected.

Lemandria is rolling over in her virtual grave.