a cooking pot and twisted tales
Thoughts and Tales…A Lifestyle Blog with a Zing.
She drank till the bottle was empty.
Yet her thirst was no where near being quenched.
The arid dryness that plagues her, is bottled within.
The more she drinks, the worse it gets.
She stares at the rusty blade with bleary eyes.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
![1451795712481[1]](https://acookingpotandtwistedtales.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/14517957124811.jpg)
Gabe gazed with mixed emotions at the odd shaped object that sat on top of the mounted poles.
He felt admiration, irritation and also a sense of shame. He knew that his proud attitude would have cost them so much even though he hated to admit it.
He had derided Smoking Grass when the young Indian scout came up with the idea of constructing a reservoir from the tough hides of the dead Buffalo instead of allowing it to go to waste.
He had felt that it was highfalutin nonsense.
‘What did the young blade know?’
He could trust Smoking Grasses riding, hunting and tracking skills to a large extent, but that was as far as he was willing to go.
However, from the look of things, the young lad had proven him wrong, yet again.
The thick reservoir sat there proudly collecting the falling rain.
Finally, the rain had come just as the boy predicted.
They had not seen a drop of rain for the past seven hot months and the wells had gone bone dry.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
In response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you Sonya for the photo and Priceless Joy for this challenge platform.
What the @@@&&&? Tess stared in dumbfounded shock at the image that unfolded before her eyes.
Unbelievable! She stepped back, a burning sinking sensation hitting the pits of her stomach as the scene registered in her brain.
‘Is that not Humphrey that I see?’
She stared through the clear glass of the jewelry store. Watching as he attentively hooked a necklace around the slender neck of the pretty lady with him.
‘No! Her mind silently screamed.’
But his drop of a tender kiss on the cheek of the exquisite looking face and their intimate looking tête à tête was enough confirmation.
The anger pooled inside her as she hurried away. She didn’t just have the stomach for a confrontation.
‘No wonder he has been behaving like a cat on hot coals these past few weeks.’ Goddess’s voice muttered. ‘I have always been suspicious that he is too good to be true.’
‘He has obviously been tom-catting around town and here you are eating your heart out and driving yourself crazy trying to pick the perfect birthday gift for him.’
Tess gazed in annoyance at the gifts in her hands.
She had spent all afternoon and a little fortune picking out the lovely presents to give him for his birthday.
‘You better take back the presents advised Goddess.’ ‘He can’t make a fool out of you and still get your money as a thank you. No Sireee’ She continued.
‘Wait a minute, Cautious chipped in. ‘Don’t be in a haste Tess.’ There’s probably a reasonable excuse, Cautious rationalized.
‘You’ve been together for over nine months now and he hasn’t given you any reason to suspect him, has he?’ Cautious sagely reminded her.
‘Well, it starts one day and for all you know, he has just been smart about things’ argued Goddess.
The warring voices in her head gave her a headache and for several hours after she felt totally demoralized, mooning around her apartment.
Several hours later, the happy tune of her phone rang and she stared at it in uncertainty. Humphrey’s caller ID face stares at her through the phone screen.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to speak to him but she eventually decided to answer at the third round of ringing.
‘Hey Bae’, his warm tenor pulled at her.
Her curt reply of ‘Hello Humphrey’ wasn’t as warm as usual.
‘I missed you.’ He said. ‘How was your day?’
‘Really? *you lying cheat, go on, sell me another one, she muttered silently in her head* but her lips uttered a very curt and polite ‘Fine, thank you.’
‘Are you busy?’ ‘You sound distracted,’ he asked.
‘No am here.’
‘Good. You sound tired though. Just called to kiss you goodnight. Be seeing you tomorrow at the party.’ He hung up.
Tess barely slept well. Half of her night was spent tossing thoughts around in her head, wondering if she should bother going to the party or not.
She hated confrontations but she needed to get to the bottom things. The lying cheat.
To be continued…Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
I have been busy digging. Enjoy
Some posts like Claremary’s Auld Lang Syne, truly make you appreciate the gift of life
Follow Chape and maybe, just maybe, you can do this.
Sound advise from Success Inspirer.
This post from Diane made me chuckle. Yeah right!
Put yourself in the shoes of a Syrian refugee from Skinny and Single.
The poem New wind blowing from Joy gave me joy and much thought.
I agree with Rose about defining our goals.
Change succinctly said by Koko.
![1451810396802[1]](https://acookingpotandtwistedtales.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/14518103968021.jpg)
The gym overflows to the brim
Every corner occupied to its seam
The svelte and the porky
The taut and the cuddly
All gathered in the square space
Intents burning in avid blaze
Brand new gears all donned for the show
Sweat trickles down and dots the brows
The man with the wobbly one pack
See’s in his mind a defined six pack
The lady with the pouting lips
Takes the 50th selfie as she takes another leap
The dude with true six packs
Simply shows off with all the weight racks
The sage mother like I, walks sedately on a climb
We offer each other a nod and a smile
We huff and we puff
We groan and we grunt
I haven’t seen the gym this way
No. Not in many months of May
I know the new ‘Resolutioners’
With the Dre beats and everything new
Let’s watch and see how long
The new fad will continue to brew.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
His fingers caressed the Sax with fondness.
Tears pricked his eyes as he remembered.
The faint sounds of ghostly play echoed in his head and in the house.
Everything was now covered in a film of dust.
Touching his dad’s Sax once more, he packed it back in it’s old box and walked out of the house for the last time, into the bright afternoon Sun.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
![1451558309257[1]](https://acookingpotandtwistedtales.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/14515583092571.jpg)
She kept bugging me with the new poem that she wrote and I had to stop and listen to what she is reciting.
So, let me indulge her and share it with you.
A Winter Wonderland
The first snowflake of storm falls
I couldn’t see anything at all
Woke the next day, the snow was tall
And I instantly started jumping off the wall
I ran outside but slipped and fell
Oh well who cares anyway
My mom gave me the option to come inside
But I decided to stay out and play * she is disobeying me 🙂
I ran and ran with all my might
Climbed up a tree disregarding the height
Then I realized my mom was right * Mother knows best, always 😉
Maybe I should go back inside.
I caught a cold, I should have listened
But walked over to the window stall to see what I’d been missing
I saw Mr. Frankle the snowman my sister had made outside * Is she trying to tell me that she wants a sister ?
He started to sing, dance, run and prance
I went back outside to watch his performance
He looked to the sky and said ‘I have to go.’
While I wondered where is all the snow
I woke up and realized its all a dream
But what a wonderful theme ‘A Winter Wonderland.’
From Nnenna Christine Oby-Ikocha
She slowly shuffled down the alley, her old, pink umbrella barely kept the light drizzle from dripping through.
She looked at the piece of telegram in her hand, it had yellowed with age and handling, yet the faint words were emblazoned on her mind.
He had said to wait for him at the old alley, where they always had their secret rendezvous, away from the prying eyes of goldfish bowl town of theirs.
They were to leave town and start anew; but he never came.
Year after year, she faithfully trudged back. Patiently waiting for him to arrive and take her away, but no news; nothing to show that he ever existed.
At ‘The Home’ they looked at her with eyes of pity. They called her fancy names: delusional, dementia and indulged her racy thoughts.
The last laugh would be hers.
Each time she dressed to go, sure that it would be that day, though it has been 28 years of going to the alley to wait.
He would come.
He promised.
Pete is a man of his words.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
In response to the FFfAW photo prompt above. Thank you Etol for the photo and Priceless Joy for this challenge platform.
”Hold it right there.” Tess tried to rein in her runaway trail of thoughts.
”Don’t go getting all mushy right now and seeing visions girl.” She admonished herself.
”It’s just a date.”
”Repeat slowly after me.”
”Just. A. Date.”
The two voices in her head continued their tussling, as she pursed her lips in admiration of her new cherry, shimmery lipstick that matched the gloss of her new O.P.I nail polish.
”Yeah right! It’s just the 9th date in a line of quick successive dates. Ha!” Snickered inner Goddess
”With the same guy.” Goddesses inner cynical eyes were raised.
”Who by the way is ole fancy pants, pompous Humphrey.”
”Who would have thought it? That he could pack such a punch in his kiss. Girl, you are so hooked and reeled in.” Goddess proclaimed.
”Hey! Cut the guy some slack.” Protested Cautious voice.
”Okay. Let’s calm down.” Tess interjected into the muddled log jam of the two rioting voices in her head.
”I admit that I was a tad too hasty to jump to conclusions and in summarizing him” She accepted her default.
”I just thought that he was always too full of himself in Church, you know.” As the son of the Vicar, he always cut across like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth and all those choir girls batting their eyelashes and singing out their hearts to him, just made me want to puke.”
”You could see the trail of their eyes and their flouncy skirts swishing flirtatiously and panting after him and I think he knew it too.”
”See, a girl has to keep herself out of such quagmire, you know.” ”I can’t be seen drooling after a fine brother and hanging onto his very last word like my life depended on it.” She concluded.
”Oh, oh! You’ve sure been paying him a lot of attention, haven’t you?” You are practically drooling right now Tess,” Goddess chimed in. You have checked your time like, what? The umpteenth time!”
”Ever since the accidental cinema date, your eyes have gone all starry, you are wearing all the girlie stuff that you have and fussing so much over your appearance. I know that smile girl.” ”Just be careful!” ”That’s all am saying.” I don’t trust all that gentlemanly courtesy and all that fineness wrapped in his sleek BM. He hasn’t even made the expected sleek fresh finger moves. No booty calls. I am kinda worried girl. That’s not the usual way these beaus move you know.” ”I wonder what tricks he is up to?” Sage Goddess queried.
”Hey! Goddess just shush.” ”Come off it!” ”There are still a couple of good guys out there you know.” ”I have a good feeling about Humphrey.” Said Cautious voice
The little birdie doorbell chimed. ”He’s here.” ”Comport yourself.” She quickly smoothed her skirt and a quick spritz of her CK Contradiction perfume, she opened the door to let Humphrey in.
To be continued.Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
It’s been a bit of a slow week, I haven’t read as much as normally do, but I still tried to dig into the neighbours yards, though a whole lot seem preoccupied. I still managed to find a bit of this and that.
This photo from Conversations around the tree made me smile.
An inspiring story of The tiny frog from Gchan.
Anand’s 3rd QSM Humor magazine.
Smart Goal Setting by bikini book worm.
5 Inspirational and 2 children’s books from Emma.
This post, The day after I survived from Tess…
Beautiful pictures from my sis Lucid Gypsy always makes me happy.
![1451202785273[1]](https://acookingpotandtwistedtales.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/14512027852731.jpg?w=663)
How can I not forgive you;
For that which I may be guilty of too?
How can I be so hypocritical;
With fierce darts so critical?
For it is great Grace,
That saves me as a Scapegrace.
Buffeted and Battered by Transgressions,
I bow to my knees, folded within.
Searching to recognize my peace,
As hot tongues of the brethren’s accuser,
Chastises from within the inner realm,
A quiver full of squirmy thoughts.
How can I not….
For to forgive you
Is to forgive myself.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
a cooking pot and twisted tales 