Category Archives: 2. Saturday Centus

The cry that unites the fans no matter what the code goes out, “Friday night football!”

It meant nothing to me except I would be busy. I knew what everyone would be doing. It didn’t matter. I would wait for no game, especially football. I would stride up to any door and bang on it or press the doorbell.

Shouts would come from inside, “Who’s that? Don’t they know the game is on?”

I would hear angry footsteps approaching but would stand firm. The door would fling open.

Anger would turn to a smile as they would call out, “The pizzas are here.”

.

“Nanna’s gone to heaven,” mother explained.

“Can I phone her?”

“No, dear, but you can speak to her in your prayers.”

That night, when all was quiet, he crept out of bed, picked up the phone and pushed the button saying, “Nanna”.

“The number you have reached is no longer in service.”

Not deterred, he typed his nanna’s name by looking at the letters.

A man answered, “Hello?”

“God, I knew you’d answer. Can you tell my nanna I love her.”

The child’s sadness touched the heart of the stranger, “I’ll be sure to let her know.”

“Thank you, God.”

He returned to bed assured nanna knew he loved her.

“Are you seriously ordering another martini? I mean a gross. I know you believe in them but how many people would want a tiny Martian fur ball creature as a pet?”

Rakin knew his ad campaign had worked on his friend, “You get the product, give it a catchy name, create a market and sweep in the cash.”

“Okay, so calling these little fur ball Martians martinis was a good idea but, well, you know what happens when they sense you love them. They permanently attach to you.”

Rakin was watching his friend stroke the attached martini, “So you would like to remove it?”

“No! You know it makes me feel happy. I’m worried about other side effects.”

Rakin protested, “There aren’t any other side effects.”

“The hair growth?”

“You were losing your hair, now you have a full head of hair,” Rakin pointed out.

“…and a beard.”

“Okay, Susan, that’s one little effect,” Rakin admitted.

…..

In the autumn of my life,

The world is contemplating strife.

A granddaughter plays blissfully,

Her beaming smile refreshes me.

In the autumn of my life,

Where worldly, evil hate’s not rife.

…..

“Mother may I try?”

Mother heard his question every day for weeks and her answer was always the same, “Not yet, sweetheart.”

Expecting the normal response, the abnormal came instead, “Yes, today you’re ready.”

With the confidence of youth, he stretched his muscles and stepped up to the ledge.

“Now, mother?”

“Now,” she replied.

He made his leap from the ledge and tumbled briefly before outstretching his wings. The brilliantly contrasting feathers glistened in the sunlight as the wind caught them and lifted him from his fall.

“I can fly!” he cried as he flew low over the water.

This was his day.

Schools and students have permission to use this graphic for non-commercial, educational purposes.

As Michael arrived home, flour, salt, olive oil, yeast and sugar lay scattered across the kitchen table. His mother was making his favourite.

“What kind of a pizza is this?” he asked with a frown. “Can’t we buy one?”

Michael knew he had hurt his mother’s feelings. Money had always been a problem after they had lost his father. Michael looked at the pizza’s meagre toppings.

His face broadened into a smile, “Oh, mum. This is better than any store pizza.”

He hugged and kissed her. A tear rolled down her cheek. She knew he said that for her.

The pizza had one special ingredient, a mother’s love.

Suzie approached the sleeping Blinky.

Blinky was her pet name for him, “Surprise! I’m pregnant!”

Blinky stirred, yawned, looked Suzie over, “Tell me when there’s something worth seeing.”

Suzie didn’t expect him to take much notice. It was the problem where she came from. Mothers cared for the children. Fathers were more interested in eating, sleeping and fighting other males.

Five months later, Suzie tried again, “Blinky, do you want to see your baby?”

Without opening his eyes, he said, “Maybe later.”

Suzie spoke softly to her baby, “Come out of the pouch, sweetie. At least these humans want to see you today.”

Schools and students have permission to use this graphic for non-commercial, educational purposes.

Debbie was only 13. Her smile would light up the faces of all she met.

She once tweeted, “What’s the positive side of dying? Anyone know?”

It’s true. She was dying from leukemia. Her parents were holding her hands.

“You are my sunshine…” they sang as Debbie closed her eyes for the last time.

Schools and students have permission to use this graphic for non-commercial, educational purposes.