Poetry and prose from friends and myself. The legalities of these shouldn't be necessary. All work is copyright of the author, and nothing may be reproduced or redistributed without written consent of the author(s). If you have anything, email it to me, with whatever information you want listed... If I like it, I'll put it up.
The wind howls through the littered streets;
Abandoned swing sets and rusty park seats.
The gun smoke sways in the wind,
Out of the houses of innocent Jews
Where there was nothing but life left to lose.
The vague sounds of laughter;
Of euphonious songs and celebration
Can be heard whispering through the deceased trees
And the smoky breeze
Of the streets of Amsterdam.© Natalie Hundley 2005
It was darned ol' 9:00 A.M. in the morning when I realized it was time to get up for my senior exercises! When I opened the door to the Retiree Center, I couldn't find anybody I knew! I ran as fast as I could (3 mi/h) before catching my breath. As I was gasping for air, this man in a black suit and red tie walked up to me and said, "Hello ma'am, and welcome to Arvest! May I help you open a new account?" I asked if this was some kind of prank, and where were the freakin' step-climbing thingies for us elders?! He simply replied, "Excuse me, but are you lost ma'am? I can't imagine what crap you, at your age, have to go through!" I shook off his welcoming hand and ran out the door, realizing what a stupid thing I had just done.
I decided to forget the work-outs and just say I didn't hear my alarm clock this morning. As I was driving down the road, this kid in some red jacket that said "Eminum" pulled up beside me, revved his engine at me, and screamed out the window to amuse his doped out pals, "Hey, Honey, BRING ME MY DENTURES!" As his friends' pieces of sterling silver jiggled on their faces as they chuckled, I felt like I was 20 years-old again. Not because of his idiotic comment that I was still trying my hardest to figure out until drool began to string down my chin, but because I had a 2075 Lincoln Continental, specially designed for wealthy seniors, such as myself. I roared my engine as the light to my left turned yellow for the oncoming traffic to slow down, which my retarded opponent (and his still doped out friends) noticed also. Our cars were shifting back and forth as we blasted rap and Beatles music on our radios to prepare for battle. Then, the moment we'd all been waiting for - the green light! We floored it, 98 m/ph down Main Street, which (much to my surprise) I won! I looked back to see where the crap he had gone when I noticed the banged up police car and Dodge Challenger half a mile back, with my eye glasses. I shrieked in horror, "OH, CRAP!" as the trooper turned around to look at what the stupid pointing, tattle-tale, rapper kid was pointing at. As the officer walked away from his totaled car, towards me, my asthma began to kick in and I instinctively reached for my inhaler in the glove box. When the so-called "Oklahoma State Trooper" saw me reach for the glove box and screamed with his gun pointed at me, "PUT YOUR HANDS UP!". Now my asthma REALLY kicked in and I was turning freakin' purple while trying to step out of the car. As I was dying and straining for pure air, he came and dragged me out of the car, just realizing I was a purple 82-year-old woman who was slapping him incessantly in the face until he saw stars, and was suffocating due to asthmatic symptoms. He apologized and threw me my inhaler, from which I quickly sucked in the dry ice-like air. As the officer drove off with his back-up partner, he hollered out his passenger window, "Nice driving, lady. The academy would have liked to have you!" I smiled as I got back into the car; I was proud of my victory. I chuckled evilly as I made my way towards the academy, past the Retiree Center.
© Natalie Hundley 2005
This page was last modified Friday, 25-May-2007 11:21:03 EDT.