Shards and Phractures

NOTE:  This is an entry for The Friday Challenge, which can be found Here . Rick leaned on the balcony overlooking the bay, and took a long pull on his cigar.  Behind him, inside the house, the raucous noises of a birthday party were still blasting.  His party.  But at his age, he felt the need for a little quiet. The quiet didn't last long. "Grampa Rick!  Grampa!  Come on, tell us a story!" "Yeah!  You always tell good stories!  Tell us how you made all your money!" "Story! Story!" Nine grandkids--plus a handful of their friends--makes for a very intimidating, albeit small, army.  So, Rick reluctantly put out the cigar, but he refused to abandon the brandy snifter, and allowed himself to be led back inside, to the fireplace.   "Come ON, Grampa!  How did you get to be rich?" He looked over to the table, where the remaining adults were cleaning away the mess and lost in their own conversations.  This was just him, and the munchkins...not that ...

Okay, let's see if we can bring the ol' Pix of the Day thing back to life here. She-who-must-be-obeyed signed me up for a photography class at the Henry Doorly Zoo in Omaha a few months back, before I broke my camera. The instructor, Pasquale Mingarelli, or "Pat," was laid back, very knowledgeable, and made sure we got a lot out of the class. Make sure to drop by and check out his pictures, too, at www.wildheartphotography.com Hope everyone is enjoying the rising temperatures, vanishing snow, and increased rain...*grin* -=ad=-

NOTE:  This post is an entry to the Friday Challenge, which can be found here . The shooting star arced across the sky, leaving a trail that must have been miles long, shooting sparks in all directions.  It was easily the longest shooting star he had ever seen, awake or dreaming.  He was dreaming, wasn't he...?  He looked around, seeing the children playing basketball with an inflated frog next door.  Across the street, there was a horse and carriage in the driveway, instead of the Honda that was usually parked there.  And he was getting ready to leave for work with bright, fluffy pink bunny slippers on his feet. Yes, he was pretty sure he was dreaming. He let the dream carry him across the street and around the block, and where there should have been an elementary school, he instead found the quiet neighborhood where his grandmother lived.  If he hadn't already known he was dreaming, this would have cinched it, because her home was a forty-five minute drive away--more during r...