Monday, June 15, 2009

1,000 Words For Charity - Mom & Dad

Title: The Gift of Fire
Three words provided: love, understanding, thoughtfulness.
Word count: 1,000 on the dot.

On a chilly Saturday in the town of Corner Bay there was a great disturbance that to you I shall now convey. I do hope you’re sitting comfortably? Good, let us get the story underway.

“I don’t understand how this can be!” cried Thomas the fire breathing donkey.

The flames shooting from his mouth, you see, were something that had just developed recently. For all his life Thomas had been just a plain donkey, but since his third birthday admission to his house was only be fee (three dollars a visit, with roasted marshmallows thrown in for free!).

“My poor, poor Thomas, my dear,” said his mother Shelly St. Cyr. “We’ll go to the doctor and get you fixed up, don’t fear!”

On the way to the doctor several passersby were seared but they were kind enough to take it in good cheer. After all it was plain to see, it was really quite clear, that the poor donkey’s apologies were completely sincere. Thomas wanted nothing more than to just disappear.

“It’s okay my love, you don’t have to hide,” his mother told him with arms open wide. “You know that I’ll always be with you, right by your side – I won’t be content until these flames subside!”

“Thanks mom but I just feel so bad!” Thomas replied with eyes so sad. “I just melted the only Sunday dress Miss Ginger ever had!”

“It’s okay, I’ll just knit her another,” he was told by his doting mother. “And between you and me – I might also make one for her brother!”

At this Thomas let loose a fiery laugh - which almost caused the nearby Mrs. Moobell to have her calf! So Thomas and his momma hurried on before someone was burned in half.

They managed to arrive at the doctor’s office without further ado – aside from lighting a bonfire or two. The receptionist (Delilah the shrew) looked up from her copy of True Gossip View and asked, “What can I do for you?”

“Well, there’s a slight problem with my son,” Shelly replied as she wiped from her brow some perspiration. “His breath is so hot it has become a sensation – everywhere we go there’s a conflagration!”

“I can’t say I’ve seen that before!” Delilah said, no longer looking the least bit bored. “Grannies who fell, old men that snored, shore! But by this I’m totally floored! Come along, come along, the doctor will see you in moments and not two seconds more!”

In smoky silence they waited in the examination room, Thomas doing his best not to ignite the straw broom. He knew that in such a small space a fire would be their doom – the whole building would explode with a resounding ka-boom!

“How are you doing today?” inquired the good Doctor Savay as he came through the doorway. He wore big glasses, his long hair was in a state of disarray and, as he was a horse, it was most natural for him to be chewing on hay.

“Oh, put your snack away!” Thomas shouted in dismay. “Please, please, won’t you do as I say?”

The doctor complied with a gentle shrug before giving his mane a thoughtful tug. “So what is wrong, young fellow – have you caught a nasty flu bug? Or perhaps your hide was bruised by a big strong hug? A chipped hoof from a hole you dug?”

“No, no, it’s none of those things! No more can I talk, no more can I sing - each breath that I take comes with smoke rings!”

Doctor Savay was deeply confused and yes, to be honest, more than a little amused. His expression changed little when together by a flaming hiccup his two favourite pens were fused.

“Oh my goodness, a donkey that breathes fire! If I didn’t see it myself I’d call you a liar! But my dear Thomas, the situation is not so dire; lift your head up and hold it higher.”

“But I leave behind me a trail of destruction! No matter what I do I can’t seem to stop this combustion – can’t you help me end all this disruption?”

“My dear boy you have been given a gift! Can’t you see how you could give people’s spirits a lift? Your negative perception just needs a little bit of a shift!”

“Mom, let’s give this doc a pass – he doesn’t care that my breath can melt glass. You know me mom, I hate to be crass – but he thinks this a gift and I say it’s a pain in the -”

“Thomas, don’t be rude! Listen to what he has to say and lose the attitude.”

“It’s alright Shelly,” the doctor said with a laugh that shook his belly. “I can understand if Thomas thinks my brain is made of jelly. He’s not the only one – so does my wife Kelly!”

“Well doc, let’s hear it. Why should I celebrate this condition, rather than fear it?”

“You just have to think of how much better life can be! You’ll have fire with you at all times – no more dragging a barbeque so heavy. No more using matches – you’ll save millions of trees! Don’t think of how much more difficult it is for Me – think of the good you can do for We!”

“Wow doc, you’re right – this I can understand!” Thomas cried out while gratefully shaking his hand. “I’ve got so much to do, so much to plan! I’ll go get started right now by lighting a fire for Stan the homeless man!”

With that Thomas left the office at full speed – no longer giving his own worries the least bit heed. He raced all over town, helping those in need – of a light, of a fire, of any heat indeed. Getting rid of Old Man Timber’s weeds was only one of his many heroic deeds.

And to this very day you’ll find dear Thomas the fire breathing donkey helping everyone in sight – and of course he does it all for free.


g2 (la pianista irlandesa) said...

I have no idea how you managed to think of a fire-breathing donkey, but the prose-poetry fusion (prosetry?) fit this just perfectly, and you pulled it off flawlessly.

Marc said...

I could probably write another 1,000 words on how this story came to be, but I'll restrain myself.

I'll just say that Thomas started out as a donkey and then I decided he needed some more oomph. I'm honestly not sure how the fire breathing popped into my head. I think I just liked the rhythm of it.

Thank you kindly for your praise, it is both appreciated and humbling :)

Greg said...

Really nice Marc! It's crying out for illustrations though, you could easily turn that into a children's book -- nice big pages, an illustration per stanza, one to a page -- I was picturing it as I read :)

Although your parents might worry if they thought you were hinting that you'd like a sister or brother... ;-)


Marc said...

Thanks Greg, I was kinda picturing it myself. I just might come back to this once I'm done the rest and polish it up a bit and see what can be done with it.

Glad you liked it, and rest assured, my parents would think no such thing :)