Tag: Eyelashes

EYELASHES: Maine Lobster Bisque By Sally Madison

Word Count 390

Maine Lobster Bisque
By Sally Madison

As Eric finishes his story, Lindsey, from her hospital bed, burst out laughing, “Ha, ha, ha, oh, ou, ou, ou, ha, ha, ha. Oh Eric, don’t make me laugh. My stitches hurt bad enough as it is,” as she wiped the droplets from her eyelashes. ”That is too funny.”

“Oh, sorry, Sweetie, I didn’t mean to cause you pain.” Eric apologized. Lindsey raised one eyebrow, and thought, ‘Sweetie? I wonder where that came from’

Hearing the laughter, Dr. Livingston entered the room. “What’s all the laughing about? Oh, Hello Eric.”

Eric turned and greeted the doctor, “Hello, David.” I was just telling Lindsey about my dinner last night. “After saying good night to Lindsey, I started home and thought I would stop at the deli to get a quick supper. They were offering Maine Lobster Bisque, which I had not had since I left Nashua, to come here to New York City. I took a couple of spoonfuls and nearly gagged. It was terrible! I was furious! So I says to the owner, “I’m from New Hampshire. We eat lobster bisque all the time, and this is not it! How can you possibly call this Lobster Bisque? Calmly, the owner goes out to the kitchen and brings out this big tattooed ape of a man. The owner tells the cook, this man says, this isn’t Lobster Bisque.”

Eric continued, “He says to me, ‘My name is Lobster, I’m from Maine and I made the bisque. What’s your problem?”

Peels of laughter come from Lindsey, “Ha, ha ha, ou, ou, ou!” as she holds her tummy, then she quiets down.

David is also is laughing hysterically. “Ha, ha, ha.” Then he turns to Eric, and says “Eric! You’re from Nashua! Where did you get that ..’I says to him’ .. crap?”

Eric thought for a moment, shook his lowered head, and responded, “I have been here too long. We need to get away for awhile.” Eric laughs at his own words.

David adding, “Yeah, you do” and rejoins the laughter.

Again, Lindsey raised one eyebrow. ‘Eric is single, who is the ‘we’ I wonder. Then she smiled to herself, thinking maybe the ‘we’ includes ‘me.’ Unable to restrain her laughter any longer she bursts out, “Ha, ha, hw, ou, ou, ou, “ at which point Eric and David laughed even harder.

EYELASHES: Wishes By Peg Scarano

Word: Eyelashes
Word Count: 494
By Peg Scarano

It had been one of those days when nothing went right and everything went wrong. Everyone was finally in bed and asleep and I decided I needed something stronger than a Klondike bar. I went to the cabinet and found an old bottle of red wine, grabbed the cork screw and a glass and sat down in a comfy chair.

As I struggled to remove the cork, the bottle seemed to come alive in my hand. I set it down and watched amazed, as a puff of smoke followed by a staggering genie emerged.

As the disoriented genie gradually gained her balance, she gave me an inebriated smile and muttered, “Hey, darlin’! Looks like it’s your lucky day! You’ve got me and three wishes coming your way!”

I blinked and shook my head to refocus my eyes. “Are you kidding me? If it’s OK, I think I’d like to have a glass of wine and think about this for a moment.”

She gave me an intoxicated wink with a bloodshot eye and slurred, “You can sure do that darlin’, but I hope you have another bottle because I kinda drained this one.”

“I sure wish you hadn’t done that!” I whined.

“Well, that’s a darn shame, darlin’. You just used one of your wishes and I can’t grant that particular wish without hurling and that would be environmentally unsafe and not very tasty for you.”

“What kind of genie are you? Are you telling me you cannot come up with another bottle of wine?” I whined again.

“You didn’t wish for another bottle of wine, darling’,” she uttered. “And I’m really a very good genie. Why, have you ever made a wish on your birthday candles and have it come true? Have you ever had a successful wish on a rainbow, a leprechaun or a white horse? And how many times have you wished upon a falling star, a wishbone or a lady bug, but to no avail? I bet you have lost hundreds of dollars tossing coins into a fountain or down a wishing well. And let me tell you, darlin’, those fluffy dandelions, wishing stones, feathers and falling leaves aren’t what they’re cracked up to be either, are they?”

I got all blurry-eyed and cried, “Oh, I wish you hadn’t said that! I have lovely memories of making wishes on all of those things as a child!”

“Aw, darlin’, I’m sorry. But there goes your second wish,” the genie drawled.

“Oh, you really are a piece of work!” I moaned as I went to grab the empty bottle to hit her over the head. Suddenly, I saw a lone eyelash on the back of my hand. Remembering another childhood wonderment, I closed my eyes, blew the eyelash and wished this genie would return to her bottle. I slowly opened my eyes. The eyelash had disappeared and a full bottle of red wine was awaiting my pleasure. Who said wishes don’t come true?!

EYELASHES: Of Moths and Memories and Mother’s Eyelashes By B.A Sarvey

Word Count 493

Of Moths and Memories and Mother’s Eyelashes
By B.A Sarvey
“You should go,” Luna said. “Before the others are out of sight.”
The crystal-strewn net bobbed as the two moths launched. Instead of following the flock, however, they floated on the wind toward Luna. One perched on her left hand and gazed steadily at her. Luna nodded. “They ask permission to stay with us,” she said.
“Why?” blurted Guff. “The galumpshes pose no more danger.” The second moth flew towards him. He shuddered.
“We aided them. They want to reciprocate.”
“Reciprocate? How? Two green moths? Beautiful. Enormous. Still…”
“P…please, G…guff. Say yes.” Howard flapped his blushing wings. “Y…you will become ac…c…customed to them.”
“They don’t know where we are going,” Guff argued, as they detached the web from the trees.
“We f…followed L…luna without knowing where.”
Just then, Luna drew a ragged breath.
“What’s wrong?” yelped Guff.
“Nothing…just…a butterfly kiss. And a touch of homesickness.”
“B…butterfly k…kiss?”
“When I was young, Mother would flutter her eyelashes against my cheek and tell me it was a butterfly kiss, keeping me safe. The moth just grazed its wing against my cheek, promising to look after us.”
“All right,” Guff said. “I know when I’m beaten. And where we’re headed.”
“You would do this for me? No. I cannot ask it. My village is too far. Besides, my clan abandoned me.”
Guff took her hand—the one without the moth—and said, “Isn’t it time you found out just what happened in that meadow?”
Luna returned his gaze, squeezed his hand. A nod set her hair dancing. “Yes. I have worried over that enough. And since we will be close by, we must visit your village, too, Guff.”
“The settlement where we met is not my village,” Guff said.
“But I thought…,” began Luna.
“I only told you I was a messenger. I did not say where I came from—it’s a long, complicated story.”
“Plenty of time for tales on the way to my village.” Freeing her hand, Luna twirled in place, her loden cloak and silver curls fanning out like a peacock tail. The moths released their spiny grips and hovered above. Luna stopped turning, picked a handful of yarrow, breathed deeply. Then, she began humming. Soon, her single note was joined by Howard’s flapping, moth wings beating, and Guff’s tenor. The wind stilled. The moon’s white glow was diffused and reflected by a passing cloud. When the moon re-emerged, the moths headed toward it. “This way,” Luna said, and they began walking.
The moon afforded ample light for their journey, illuminating the flying escort ahead, outlining every rock and root along the path. Guff’s tale spun itself like a moth’s cocoon, forming a tight bundle held tentatively to a branch, with a secret cradled deep within. Sometimes, he fell silent. Sometimes Luna or Howard picked up the story’s thread, wove it into their own.
“My existence mirrors yours,” he had begun. “I had a home. It abandoned me. But I discovered something better.”


Word Count 462
By Nan Ressue

While I always considered the face which looked back at me in the mirror to be quite ordinary, I had a friend who was breathtakingly beautiful from the beginning. The boys discovered her when she was inappropriately young. Small gifts left on her desk, unfamiliar young boys walking by her house, a bouquet of wildflowers tucked into her bicycle basket.
Several years later, the attention had intensified, turning into love letters, young men circling the block in freshly simonized junk cars, telephone calls at inappropriate times, multiple invitations to the prom, wolf whistles and provocative invitations on shopping trips and family vacations,. And now, the ultimate agonizing choice has been offered; two men have proposed simultaneously and are impatiently waiting for her to make a choice. And so, as women will do, she and I conducted lengthy analytical conversations. Or rather, she analyzed while I listened.
“I’ll tell you one thing I know they have in common,” she declared. “They know more about themselves than they know about me.”
“Little did they know about what made her laugh or cry, or even angry or frustrated as I do”, I told myself silently.
Then, as if counseling herself she mused, “James is tall, muscular, and aggressive when necessary, gentle in sensitive situations; a kind, intelligent man but having obvious shades of vanity.” She looked at me expecting a comment but I gave her none.
“Michael is a picture of Adonis manhood, capable, caring, compassionate, talented and hardworking, but maybe just a little bit too steady with no sense of adventure. Still no comment from her best friend.
“You probably won’t approve of what I’ve decided to do but I think it is the best way to quickly solve the problem. I’ve decided to have them both come over at the same time”, she stated with a firmness that was a surprise even to me.
“Well, this ought to be interesting” I said to myself. “Will they shake hands? Have a fist fight? Attack her physically? Yell, threaten, or insult each other? Or all of the above? I came out on the porch and stood beside her, looking down on these handsome men.
My friend turned to me and asked,” Would you help me decide what to do?” The next chapter in my life depended on this decision. Turning and looking at each other, we both realized with a flash of insight that that there were three choices instead of two.
Uttering no words, I turned her towards me, took her face between my palms and kissed her eyelashes, now damp with tears. Holding her in my arms, I looked down into their astonished faces and declared with a victorious smile, “I guess you guys have got your answer. Maybe we’ll see you around sometime”

EYELASHES: Eyelashes Finds Love by G. Ackman

Word Count 500

Eyelashes Finds Love
by G. Ackman

Eyelashes McPhee had to be the stupidest name ever for a horse.  I quickly renamed her I-girl and since she didn’t know the difference between “eye” and “I” it worked out for all concerned.  I first met I-girl last October when I got a desperate call from Animal Control.  The local ACO and I work together often since I run a sanctuary for senior dogs, but I didn’t usually take on horses.  I-girl needed help, all right, but I didn’t know if I was up to the job.  After Karen, the ACO, called to tell me that if I couldn’t take her, then ACO was going to put her down, I hopped in my truck and went to see her.  

Tears still spring to my eyes when I think of the emaciated, defeated little animal standing there in the filthy corral, head down, legs splayed, dull coarse coat of an indiscriminate color. She neither acknowledged nor shied away from me. I could tell she had given up. Karen told me that Eyelashes used to be a racehorse – harness racing – but had not won any races and her owners, seeing her as a failed investment, decided to quit spending money on her, not for vets and not for food.
My initial instinct was to tell Karen that the humane thing would be to put Eyelashes out of her misery and I started to say just that, but I got no further than, “Karen, I think maybe it would just be best if…” when Eyelashes glanced up at me. It was a quick glance and then she looked back down, but that glance said it all. “Go ahead. Kill me. You can’t do any worse than what everyone else has already done.” I stopped and before I knew it, I had finished with “I take her back to my place and give her some TLC.” Karen, a knowing smile on her face, stepped up to help me guide Eyelashes into my beat up old horse trailer. As we swung the gate shut, Eyelashes became I-girl and my girl.
I live just behind the race track but never paid it much attention. My dogs and now my horse take every waking moment and shred of energy I have. But then, one day in June, I noticed something strange. I was outside grooming I-girl and the bugle sounded at the track, signaling the start of a race. I-girl, now filled out, shiny bay coat and luminous eyes, was excited at the sound. It took another year, but I let I-girl decide and sure enough, she wanted to be a race horse. She just wanted to be a loved race horse, and that she is. When she wants to stop, that will be fine too. Right now, though, every dime she earns goes towards the animals at the sanctuary – currently 24 dogs and 4 former racehorses. My little I-girl is a beautiful, caring animal who just needed a real home. I sure do love her.