Picture it & write – I didn’t want to do it..!

Ermilia’s Picture it & write  (Sunday 11 November 2012)

Once again, here is my offering to ‘Picture it & write’ hosted by Ermilia (Ermisenda and Eliabeth) who invite others to join them by writing a fictional story or poem to accompany an image presented on their blog.

_________________________________________

I really didn’t want to do it!

I really, really didn’t want to do it.

They made me do it.

They made me bend down and turn around and I ended up on my back looking at the ceiling with all the verve of a bumblebee without a flower.

Yes, it was ghastly.

Yes it was absolutely mind blowing and dreadful.

They hurt me.

They abused me.

They took my little being and they scraped it without pity.

And now? What now?

Well; now I have no hair on my body.

I have no oil of my own left to moisten my limbs.

I am bereft of all my own natural scent.

That is right!

They took my very essence and threw it asunder.

And with what am I left?

I am left with a freshly pampered body of the most refreshing oils.

I am left with the scent of rose blossoms upon my thighs.

I have the smoothest chest you will see on any man.

Oh yes; they massaged and blended and drank their tea upon my soul.

They adorned me with beauteous fragrances of the north.

They bathed my toes in the sweet smell of joyous petunias.

And now I await their fragile fingers to unroll the blankets caressing my face.

I am yearning to see what kaleidoscope of energies have been brought to bear upon my jowls.

Oh thank you, my friend. I have never in my life been given such a treat as this.

Oh heavenly parlour of magic. I will return to ask your favour once again.

Carolyn Page

63 comments

  1. Excellent Carolyn! You had me going there, I thought he’d been tortured or something….but then again beauty treatments can be bloody torture! Great post!

  2. Well – – – you got me on that one Carolyn. Thinking like a guy I missed the whole thing. I thought it was all about mummies. Then I read the comments, went back and read the story and – – – oh my god – – – I am so embarrased! Then, I gave my self some solice: “Jeez Wally, you’re a guy! How were you supposed to know about that stuff? Hell, you arn’t even allowed into one of those places.” So next time, sweet Carolyn, please write about a billiards parlor, or a pub, or fishing on a river, or better yet how about giving a step-by-step procedure for the replacement of a fuel pump on a 1968 Chevy Malibu? Thanks for listening and thanks for the post. It really was fun to read (stage whisper – – – especially the second time).

    1. Don’t be embarrassed, Wally; it was supposed to bemuse! Though your idea of a mummy, perhaps speaking from the afterlife is a great one; wish I’d thought of that…
      Glad you had a little fun..! 🙂

    1. Ha ha, Resa, I had a young friend with the most beautiful fine long blonde hair. I can still remember her mother saying… “Pain for beauty my little pet; pain for beauty…!” as she brushed her hair up into a pony tail that would become a delightful plait wound around and around on top of her head…
      I envied her her mother’s attention however, not the pain…! 🙂
      I think this fellow may understand that ‘beauty pain’ now…! 🙂

    1. Oh, I’m so pleased Dace…. I’m not sure though if that makes you a sadist, or not…!
      I’ll go with ‘not’ and go with; you have a great sense of humour, my friend…. 🙂
      Enjoy the laugh….! 🙂
      As I enjoy you…! 😉

      1. yo, sister, I have periods and I am pretty sure the pain the poor guy experienced while being waxed wasn’t even close….ha…ha…We all have a little sadist in us. At least now he smells nice and is as smooth as a baby’s butt

    1. Ha hah, Kim… To this poor fellow, it seems it ‘was’ torture…! 😉
      Can’t be anything worse than having one’s chest waxed…. Ouch…!
      Oh, I’ve just thought of a place…. Shhhhhhh….. 🙂

        1. If you have the time (hah, what’s that, I hear you say..!)… why not get on over to Ermilia’s blog, download the pic and write that gruesome story! I’d love to read what’s going on in that imaginative mind of yours. I just know I’d be shocked…! 🙂
          (Should you decide to go ahead, Ermilia’s link is at the top of the page.)

    1. I have just read yours; and it is wonderful…!
      It certainly did that for me too; it ‘pulled’ me in… Thank You; that was a good read…
      And, Thank You for the compliment; we are similarly disposed, I believe, when writing…. 🙂

      1. everytime I look at my feet, they scream for her tender care. Moral of the story is everyone somehow does find love while poets scratching their heads writing sonnets.

  3. Hi Carolyn. I should have known when I picked the image that it wouldn’t inspire positive, happy responses, but it’s been very hard reading them. I’m sorry it has taken almost a week to reply, but to reply to your comment on Ermiliablog, it was a true account. I’ve had a recent death in the family and this was my closure, my way of dealing with something that I could never ask about. I think the girl in Arrow said it best. She couldn’t mourn because she was angry, but she couldn’t feel anger at the dead. She couldn’t move on because she couldn’t mourn. I didn’t want to be stuck, unable to move on.

    -Eliabeth

    1. I wish you all the best as you move forward. People disappoint, and hurt; this is (alas) part of the human psyche. The best we can do is not to allow it to define us; not to allow it to hold sway over us. However, I do believe that anger is a natural emotion; one that, when enveloped, can be the catalyst needed to move on. All the best to you…

  4. Not without a price, eh? I really wasn’t sure what sort of evil people this fellow had befallen… with all of that, I suppose the cashier was probably the most evil of them all. 🙂

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