Once more into the bleach, as we fire off this week’s writing prompt…
Yes, that’s me. Circa 1968.
Yes, that’s my oldest sister, the one who would eventually accuse me of hurling her body into a cactus in about six years or so. (Story link here.)
I believe we are in the backyard of our house on Sixth Street in Tulsa, the dwelling from which I made my infamous nocturnal quest for Emancipation. (Story link here.)
Your mission, should you accept: What am I thinking in this photo? What is my sister thinking? What am I clutching/hiding in the grass? And, most importantly, where are my trademark sunglasses? Obviously, malfeasance was afoot, and I need your help getting to the bottom of this.
Ready? Go!
Trivia: “Once more into the bleach” is a twist on Shakespeare’s Henry V quote “once more unto the breach”. The twist was used as the title of a Blondie/Debby Harry remix album in 1988, which I found rather clever, and now I’m stealing it, as a tribute to the whiteout quality of this ancient photo, which I had to scan a hundred times to get any clarity. Oh, the sacrifices we make for our art…
Categories: Flash Fiction
Bonnywood Manor 
Brian: If she poops or throws up on me one more time, I’ve got a handful of marbles and I know how to use them!
Sister: Yawn. I see a cactus in my future.
😉
LikeLiked by 2 people
Marbles: Hey, we’re lovers, not fighters. Don’t pull us into your darkness.
Cactus: Bring it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Brian: Hurry up and take the picture or I’m shoving this grass in her mouth.
Sister:💤💤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Mom: “Why did I have two children? Why?”
The Future: “Oh, these won’t be the only two. Brace yourself.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Damn, Mom turned up with the camera… I know, I’ll hide the rattler in the grass and play nice for the camera, then continue my experiment to see if the demon child is immune to venom when she’s gone…
LikeLiked by 3 people
Ten minutes later, when important backs were turned, I attempted to continue with my research. Sadly, the rattler had passed on, because apparently you aren’t supposed to mash them into the ground for any measurable length of time…
LikeLike
Brian: I have to remember this moment so I can get others to write about it on the blog.
LikeLiked by 2 people
You know me well…
LikeLiked by 1 person
What am I thinking in this photo?: This was a stupid idea. When can we send it back?
What is my sister thinking?: Never. I’ve got them fooled into thinking I’m the perfect baby – Bwahahaha.
What am I clutching/hiding in the grass?: A tootsie roll – the bribe for sitting for the photo and not dumping your sister on the lawn.
And, most importantly, where are my trademark sunglasses? Mom took them so she could see your darling spiteful eyes.
Love the photo, Brian.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Excellent summation. (It’s like you were there!) Wait, maybe you were. Do you have an alibi for late summer, 1968?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ummm.
LikeLiked by 1 person
To heck with the questions…that is such an “awwww” photo.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ll grant you that. I love this one…
LikeLike
Brian: Mom said I’d get an ice cream if I sat here nicely with little sis, but she’s taking soooo long pointing the camera! Just take it already! My ice cream’s melting and I’m about to bolt!
Baby sis: …that ice cream MIGHT have a teeny tiny amount of spit up on it…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ice Cream: “Okay, I’m done with this mess. I’m calling Child Protective Services, because this family is all kinds of wrong. And I’m not fond of spit…
LikeLiked by 1 person
😁
LikeLiked by 1 person
How old were you? Three? Yet even then there is that clear look of discontent in your eyes. You’re thinking, “Who’s responsible for this? I’m supposed to be with a family in Paris and an only child at that! Mama is an artist and Papa is a poet. Where do I lodge my complaint? I want answers! And what’s that horrible smell?!”
The baby is thinking what every baby thinks: “ahhhhh, that felt good….”
LikeLiked by 2 people
Yep, I was three-ish. On the one hand, it’s a bit sad that my discontent was obvious from an early age, basically from the moment the birthing doctor slapped my ass. On the flip side, I suppose I should get some credit for remaining steadfast and focused on my life allotment all these decades later. There’s something to be said about consistency… 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
You: that cactus over there looks like a great place to hurl her. If only she were older….
Her: i feel so safe in my brother’s arms. Hed never hurl me into a desert plant.
Clutching: velociraptor fossil
Sunglasses: in the freezer to recharge their cool
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great points. And three days later, I used the velociraptor fossil to break the lock on my bedroom door and I raced for freedom. But then I stopped at the end of the sidewalk, because I wasn’t sure how the “feeding myself” angle would work out in the wild. And I didn’t have my recharged sunglasses…
LikeLike
You wouldn’t have lasted 1 day without your shades.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Truth.
LikeLike
Rattler in the Grass
(inspired by Bryntin’s comment…” I’ll hide the rattler in the grass.,”
In keeping with Shakespeare,
Antony and Cleopatra
I believe, though it’s possible
my memory seeks to deceive
(so Machiavellian);
Is a rattler an asp?
No?
Well, it oughta be
It sounds so good with grass
and just for the record,
one has me by the ….
hand.
(End rhymes can be messy
but slant rhymes, man,
they’re so well versed)
And Mommy dearest,
next time I’m asked
to hold my baby sis,
please change her diaper first.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is superb, really mean that. I might have to construct a writing challenge specifically for you, but we’ll pretend like it’s meant for everyone else. Stay tuned! 😉
LikeLike
Your sister is probably thinking that you are eating to much grass,that had to be good Marijuan since your face says it all…. that or she is thinking what a pain holding this thing on top of me. I can also ring my sister and ask her, she´ll probably know but it´s 6:36 a.m so she´s sleeping. Thanks for the smile. Always good to start the day with a smile.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good point. My face does look like the demon child I’ve been forced to hold is harshing my buzz. Family members often screw up otherwise enjoyable pharmaceutical moments, damn them.
Glad you got a smile out of it, though. We need more of those. Always…
LikeLike
Yes we do need more smiles
LikeLiked by 1 person