And What A Character

>I was cruising craigslist at the truck stop when I saw the ad - “Miss Danu’s World Class Massage. My low back and legs were already killing me on my drive from Chicago to Minneapolis. This should be just the ticket! Over the phone she sounded like a sensible kind of bodyworker Full body, professional, payment in cash. I gave her my estimated time of arrival, noon Yes! Ready and set to break up the long drive with some hands-on relief and relaxation! She came to the door, a woman of a certain age, hair longish and loose, dressed in black. The place looked respectable enough. There were Halloween decorations dotting the porch and living room.The hookahs on the shelves gave me cause for pause. She followed my gaz. “Oh those… a collection from my time in the Middle East. Strictly for smoking tobacco steeped in fruit syrup. Ever tried one?” “Not recently.” She got me situated in the studio - candles, a fresh glass of ice and pitcher of water. Something was playing in the background, was it “The Phantom of the Opera? I hoped she would put something more relaxing on in short order - maybe elevator music? Knock, knock. In she came wearing a witch hat. “What’s this?” I asked. “Well, in keeping with the season I thought you might enjoy - massage by a witch.” “Sure, whatever." I wouldn’t have to see anything anyway, face down in the headrest. Why not let her have a little fun, just humor her. I was enjoying her skillful style and the tension was melting right out of my areas of concern. “Nice hands.” I complimented her. Too soon - “Time to turn over?” “Fine. She switched the CD to something foreign and rhythmic, a little too upbeat for my mood. The next thing I knew she was doing something that looked like a belly dance. Happily that only lasted for a minute or two. Is she a witch or a belly dancer? At this point she put on some lush piano music That’s more like it. Finally. I surrendered my feet to the start of side two. Love those pressure points; The massage moved right along as she struck all the right notes; Why not a little entertainment here? Got to give her credit for a little creativity. No harm done. My hour of respite was fast coming to an end.; It’s always over too soon. She was finishing with a scalp massage and a few light strokes on my face when an old, familiar song came on and she sang along THE END (but no happy ending).

Winter Waits

Winter Waits Deer tongue lettuce leaves rise after December frost again, lick the sky Hazy low hanging sun peeks from Northern skies Warms cold winter eyes Morning fog beads black wool jacket,warm April's breath in December Bare skin drinks in the sun's last kiss, sweet surrender - this Silver ferns of ice tick tack a frozen snail's track across frosted window panes ~

On WISHES

"A Fish on a Dish, Is That What You Wish?" (lyrics from The Incredible String Band) by Brandy Larson Aug 2012 Wish n. desire or longing for a specific thing inclination, petition, invoke (upon), entreat, expression (of desire) ME wisshen - OE wyscan "Be careful of what you wish for" Mom said, and "don't wish your life away." I think this is mainly said to children. "Your wish is my command" the genie said. "When you wish upon a star, your dreams come true" Jimminy Cricket said ("Pinocchio"). "If wishes were horses beggars would ride." Proverb "Dreams are wish fulfillment." Freud said. One can mistake wishes with reality - an example of wishful (magical?) thinking. And how about "wishy-washy?" What is a wish, really? For me it is a form of manifesting. Wishing has an element of intent. And intent has the power to make something happen. Children wish to grow up. Teenagers wish for romance. Young people might wish for glamor or fame. Middleagers wish for excitement, or maybe retirement? And elders might occasionally wish for youth! Full circle. Who has not wished on a star, wished for luck or wished for change? We've all wished for time to speed up - or to slow down. Or wished we'd done things differently? What have you wished for? I've mainly wished for romance, but not recently... Wishing has the flavor of hope and, if not angling directly toward happiness, at least hoping to perhaps gain help in some circumstance or other. Animals also must have wishes. I know my cat Aslan meows a certain way when night is coming and he wishes to be let out. Horses enclosed in a stall wish to run. Dogs in the house wish to get out. Foxes wish they could jump high enough to nibble at the tempting grapes. I guess there's no end to wishing. My wish for you? May all your wishes come true.

Last Tango With the Dark Side...

Later for 'Last Tango with the Dark Side or - 'End of Seances' by Brandy Larson October, 2012 It was a quiet Sunday morning. I'd just finished writing my 600 wordy Halloween story for Wisconsin Public Radio, a topical flash fiction event. Amir had just woken up and trudged up our stairs and into the dining room. Barely awake, he said - Is someone here? No - I replied. He said - I heard some heavy footsteps just now on the stairs. This was exactly what was in the true story I had just completed. He said he also heard some kind of moaning. This was not part of the story. At this moment I was considering whether to submit my story. It was a true encounter with the dark side - witnessed by 3 people who together all had the same exact experience. And it scared the hell out of us. Topical - sure, but why turn this loose on the airwaves? Amir drank a quick coffee and took off for the library. I surrounded myself in white light, saying the Unity Prayer of Protection - "The light of God surrounds me, the love of God enfolds me, the presence of God watches over me, where ever I am God is." I lit a cedar smudge stick and smudged myself front and back, then smudged the whole house - basement, inside all cupboards and closets - with purifying smoke. The next day I picked up the Aug 15 & 22nd, 2011 editions of the New Yorker magazine at Willy St Coop, free book shelf. A story called fiction "Gilgul" by Yosef Hayim Yershlam was featured. It tells how he was introduced to a fortune teller somewhere in Israel who had his number, so to speak. At the time he didn't know what to make of the experience, but many years later her prediction came true. He quotes the Bible in the middle of his story "Turn ye not unto the ghosts, nor unto familiar spirits, seek them not out, to be defiled by them." I Googled this, since his story made no attribution as to chapter and verse. I came found Leviticus, also called the Third Book of Moses, chapter 19 verse 31. I checked my King James Version Reference Bible, School and Library Edition, 1960 John A Hertel Co. "Regard not them that have familiar spirits, nor seek after wizards, to be defiled by them." The Torah and the King James versions apparently differ, but the message is the same. I just shredded the first story I wrote for this competition, but am wondering - should burn it?

Winter Waits - Haiku

Winter Waits by Brandy Larson December 2012 Deer tongue lettuce leaves rise after December frost again licking the sky Hazy low hanging sun peeking from the northern skies warms cold winter eyes Morning fog beading black wool jacket collecting clouds warm December's breath April in December bare skin drinks the sun's last kiss sweet surrender - this Silver ferns of ice tick tack a frozen snail track across frosted windows

Rollover Rover

Rollover Rover by Brandy Larson I was dozing and dreaming under a leafless tree with my best friend Flicka here at the OK Corral. We were glad the trail riding season was pretty much over. So many hot, long days and clueless riders. She drove in with a car full of mutts, as usual. I was saddled up for her pleasure. She’d brought a couple of apples for me, but this late in the year, kindness will only get you so far. As usual, her collie pup was jumping up like he thought he should be riding on top with her. So far as I know no one has invented a dogie side saddle. We moved out and I was walking a slowly as I could as the dog pack spread out into the underbrush. I made sure to pass under every low hanging branch I could see, but she just laughed and called me a bad boy. When we finally got out to the meadow she used the reins to whip me lightly on the neck, an annoyance more than anything, while giving me a kick or two in the sides, urging me to run. Like that was going to happen. Quick as lightning, I threw myself down on the ground. She moved faster than I thought she could, scrambling clear as I rolled over onto my side. She jumped up and looked me in the eye. I gave her an evil stare. This was effective and she walked leading me for some long, thoughtful minutes, successfully averting the galloping part of this ride. Too soon she remounted and we turned in the direction of the barn. She finally got her little run in, as I took off like the wind - quick as I could - like any good old, rental trail horse should. Back at the ranch she told Ned about the rollover and said after that she was afraid that I might bite her. I hadn’t thought of that but will keep it in mind. He gave me a stern look but, so long after that fact, what could he do? She coughed up some cash for Ned and herded her dogs back into the jalopy. I was led off to a stall for a little light grooming. Ahhh. Well she never returned, no, she never returned and her fate is still unlearned… But I have a suspicion that her riding days are over.

Halloween 2011

Scene - Dane Co Farmer's Market Oct 29, next to the last of the season. I'd just been hovering around the Antique Apples tent eating my cinnamon bun as Towneley picks out heirloom apples to send to his mother in Houston.

On the east side of the Capitol a band of ghouls play. They are made up for Halloween with skeletal faces. We run to hear them. It is kind of a brass band with an accordion. They play Dem Bones, When the Saints Come Marching In and some kind of Mideastern tune, among others. The market-goers pause in their shopping for Indian Corn, gourds, squash and pumpkins - what else? - to enjoy the show. I leap out and start dancing wearing my black velvet witch hat with a stared black veil. I soon and warm up have to take off my jacket dancing in my t-shirt. A cookie monster has joined in the dance along with a couple of guys, one wearing a huge, fake Afro wig. We dance apart and together. Many people are snapping photos, but only few are applauding. I find this curious, and truly "too bad," so lead by example - to little avail. At the end of the performance the band leader thanks me for dancing and invites me to a Freedom March around the Capitol that was starting soon in protest of Gov. Walker's misbegotten reign. I politely decline.

Later in the evening my friend Ky joins me and I prepare my Turkish nargile (water pipe) that we smoke with Egyptian peach tobacco. I have a cat costume of sorts for him and a Gypsy outfit with a layered, more than full circle skirt decked with ribbons that match the various layers of the bright printed fabrics and a black camisole. I dig out a bunch of jewelry with the full component of rings, bracelets and necklaces of garnet, pearl and turquoise faience scarabs, finishing off with a fringed Turkish scarf in reds, gold and pinks and a pair of burgundy velvet slippers encrusted with beads and sequins. I wear a lavender Islamic skull cap with my golden hair hanging free. Sadly, no crystal ball (maybe next year?)

We head out to the Harmony Bar. To my dismay the place, though decorated for the festivities, if filled with Badger football fans who are witness to getting their a** kicked in the last 5 minutes by Ohio State. Soon the revelers drift in, many in costumes. There is Tinkerbell and Peter Pan, he is Tinkerbell (all 280 pounds of him) in a green satin dress complete with hairy decolletage and no need of bra padding with a 6 foot fairy wing span, his full figured wife is Peter Pan. He said she had made the costumes. He had forgotten his magic wand - so sad.

One couple are dressed in underwear over black tights with sticks of dynamite in the waistbands. It took us a while to figure out what this was - terrorists! - the "Underwear Bomber." There are plenty of sexy vamps of mysterious lineage flashing fishnet swathed legs in high heels - of course. Also Fred Flintstone. I asked him where Barney was and he said he was lacking Wilma - she had a wardrobe malfunction. Several sets of Blues Brothers move through the crowd, one who is amazingly(!!) the spitting image of John Belushi. There are witches of all stripes, many in wigs but lacking brooms - or cauldrons, and two devils with red flashing horns, one with a Scott (the cursed governor) Walker mask who is accompanied by a female devil in the middle of a large cleverly rigged basket that restricts her movement - going to Hell in an hand basket! And a full component of vampy vampires, one with a foot long dagger tucked into her waistband.

Honor Among Thieves is playing some spiky blues, complete with a fiddler. Bodies heat up the room, filling the dance floor and providing critical mass that still leaves room to dance freely.

A Halloween ball for all!