The air is filled with the first signs of spring. The coffee machine has granted another hassle-free cup of life-giving elixir. The first sip jogs the memory. There is still a circus in the backyard. Avoiding the truth, my thoughts turned to the bottle of milk I emptied on a bowl of Raisin Bran Crunch. A run to the store will have to be made before another serving. Putting a reminder in my phone, my attention is shattered by the loudspeaker outside. “Ladies and Gentlemen and children of all ages. I direct your attention to the ceiling. High above the arena awaits the lovely Petunia Pig. She is the queen of the flying trapeze.” A quick entrance into the tent confirmed Petunia Pig bathed in white hot spotlights at the very top of the tent.
The music begins, and she starts swaying on the bar of a trapeze. The diamonds in her tiara reflect the spotlights, producing dancing light flashes. The crowd goes quiet as she picks up momentum and then erupts in a collective sound of surprise as she leaves the one swinging bar and catches another. She flips around and catches a third trapeze in time to prevent a bone-crushing fall. Porky hangs by his knees upside down on the fourth swing and maintains a back-and-forward swinging motion while continuing to bring his hooves together and then apart as a signal he is ready to catch the flying queen.
Petunia builds momentum on her trapeze as the music keeps time to her motion. Once she reaches the highest point of the swing arc, she lets go. Like a soaring bird, she flies toward Porky. He is ready for her, and in one heartstopping moment, he snatches her from sure death. The crowd, as one lets up a monster, cheer. The band increases the volume of the music, and Porky lifts Petunia to the still-swinging bar. He joins her, and in tandem, they acknowledge the adoration of those below.
My neck hurts from straining to see and the tension of the moment. Turning to leave, my progress is stopped by a bump into Speedy Gonzales. “Ah, senor,” he says. “I have an envelope for you.” My first thought was to run away, but that would be a hopeless gesture. Speedy hands me the envelope. Inside is the message we all expect from Linda Hill. It reads. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “the last thing you emptied.” Think of the last thing you emptied or something you empty often and use it as your prompt any way you like. Have fun!
If you want to have fun, visit Linda’s blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link.
https://lindaghill.com/2023/03/24/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-25-2023/
The Last Thing Emptied by John W. Howell © 2023
“So the last thing you emptied was a bottle of milk?”
“Yeah, that was it.”
“You’re supposed to write about it and not the circus.”
“Tell that to Porky and Petunia pig.”
“How long is this circus fixation with you going to last.”
“Till I get rid of all those Warner Brothers-looking characters.”
“Now, wait a minute. This is all fiction. You can just stop it.”
“Tell that to Foghorn Leghorn. He’s due to perform next week.”
“You know how nuts you sound, right?”
“This is a blog, not real life. The readers like the characters, so the show must go on.”
“I hope by the end of the day I can look back on the last thing I emptied being different from a bottle of milk.”
“Let me guess. A VooDoo Ranger Imperial.”
“You got it. Know where we can find some?”
“You still have your Uber app?”
“Yup.”
“Then I know where to find the last thing you will empty today.”
“Bless you, my man.”
