Ever since the pandemic made its first creepy appearance, Curtis Genaldi could not comprehend how he would be able to usefully function in his career as a glassblower. While he was able to perform his art, it became clear that the need for beautiful glass objects, no matter how practical, would not be in demand. What he did know was that the need for medical products was one of the greatest needs anywhere he looked. Putting on his thinking cap, Curtis researched and sketched out some ideas on how he could be a help in these hard times and occupy himself, as well. After spending long, tiring hours hunched over his sketch pad, Curtis had a flash, like a light bulb over his moppy head. Calling up his support network, Curtis joined the ranks to create splitters for ventilators, helping coronavirus patients.
This story was inspired by this news report about a glassblower who helps with COVID-19 You can read the article HERE
And that’s my Six Sentence Story! Go HERE to join in and read the stories of others.
Chalia’s arms itched relentlessly, as she stood in the long, slow moving line, at least six feet apart from the man in front of her, watching his sweat drenched shirt grow wetter and wetter, Chalia sighed, wondering if her own sweat glands were causing a stench for others in the line.
Reaching back to scratch her upper back, Chalia gracefully turned her nose to check herself for any possible unwanted odor, all she could smell was roses and vanilla, the scent she applied after her cool morning shower, resting in assurance that she passed the test, she relaxed and crossed her arms, shifting her feet and waiting.
It won’t be much longer, she thought as she edged her way closer to the door, I will soon be in the arms of the one I love and we will be together forevermore, and with these thoughts a slight smile graced her face and her eyes moistened with tears of joy.
“What’s that you have in your hand?” Looking down, she wondered what the stranger behind her was referring to when, she realized that it was the mask she held onto for a brief, cooling moment before putting it back on; “That’s supposed to stay on your face, missy,” chided the stranger.
Shifting her feet in the line and approaching the door, Chalia had a thought of saying something back to the stranger, when she realized that it may be best to leave well enough alone, before meeting her beloved at the hospital to take him home, nothing would get in the way of her elation.
Taking no chances
she walked carefully
following the rules
letting her have time
to cherish the moments
for who knew how long
letting elation become
the most important part
of her life forevermore
The Non-Essential Salesman Gets Sold
It was not long before Horace started exhibiting marked changes in his personality, mostly exhibiting sadness, just about two weeks into being closed in his house.
His wife, Charlotte, was at her wit’s end trying to keep her mind as Horace followed her around all day long.
It was all because Horace identified as a salesman in a non-essential business, and he was lost as to what to do with his time.
Never having hobbies outside of his bowling league on Sunday nights, no way to do that with all the restrictions, he would pace the floor and consume mass quantities of any foods within his reach.
Charlotte was quick not to mention how he should have had a hobby or that he might want to read a book or watch TV, neither of which he could settle down to do, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, he was a good man.
Then it happened that on the news there were stray dogs featured who needed good homes and Horace’s eyes lit up and he realized that he could provide a home for a doggy and called the number on the screen; Charlotte smiled to herself as she had set it up that he would see the program and she felt like she may have won the sales award for 2020.
There you have it! This is this weeks response to the Six Sentence Story Prompt of “Identity” Want to join in? You can click here: Girlie on the Edge
A friend asked me to write a poem call “Quarantini” about a martini related to COVID-19, of course using some humor. I wrote the poem, which sounded like a ditty and changed it up. This may be my worse poem ever and I am letting it play.
When COVID-19 came along
My friend suggested I write a poem
All about a new martini
Given the name quarantini
In what they call a quarantine
Many people stay unseen
Keeping in their houses closed
Running out for a reload
Life becomes about books and TV
Some will party on with sad glee
Cooking and cleaning and eating freely
Some will have highballs and martinis
This is where my friend comes in
With some vodka and some gin
Mixing with vermouth for them
Landing olives by the rim
Deciding to try something new
To match colors to be true
A concoction to show no defeat
They came up with the quarantini
The colors that we tend to see
Are pinks and whites and crystallies
In little balls of spikes and spheres
To look at it would not bring fear
It’s like an ornament or candy
But getting it would not be dandy
This stuff is not to be played with
Unless you have a life to give
Mindful seriousness you see
It’s hard to come up with a drink
Try they tended and pulled it off
Downed it with nary a cough
This is the magic of this concoction
A patent would not be an option
It’s not that kind of beverage
Just trying to give humor leverage
If you want to know the mix
Simply it’s an easy fix
Using booze or soda or juice
Shake with ice and strain it smooth
It can be made with garnishes or not
Depends on what you’ve got in stock
Tastes vary tart or sweet or dry
Mattering not what when or why
If you’ve figured it out by now
The quarantini recipe is not about how
It depends on what is in the house
Leaning on if you can go out
Possibly it tastes like H2O
Depending on what’s on hand to flow
It’s about the attitude of positivity
We all can have a quarantini
This came from my prompt for National Poetry Month – There is a new prompt daily, so be sure to check in!