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  • Writer's pictureLaura Cooney

Two Recent Winning Entries in Microcosms Fic


Prompt: Hairdresser / Wall Street / Poem


SNIPPETS


It doesn’t take much to cut this hair.

But it is a real annoyance to listen to the chatter,


Snip.


If you’re not part of the ‘world,’

Half of it goes,

Pun intended,

Right over your head,


Cut.


Self aggrandising, unrealistic, chauvanistic,

They ooze money.


It’s all they can think about and they can’t look up long enough,

To,


Buzz.


Let you finish the job.


Its all phones, phones, phones.

Buy, sell, buy.


Words like:


Dead Cat Bounce,

Bear Market,

Hedge,

Diamond Hands,


Chop.


Nonsense really.


One of them with real diamonds for hands and a mouth full of pearls,

Misjudges the situation,

In which he finds himself,


So when you’re in court and the judge asks about:


Penny Stocks, manuipulation, pyramids that aren’t in Egypt…


Suddenly you understand it all,

The same as someone who learned Esperanto, or Dutch.


The snippets fall into place,

Like shorn hairs on the floor.


Dzzzzzzzzz,


And they don’t look at you as you are, a hairdresser from Queens.


They look at you and they see you properly for the first time.


Chop.


Samantha… who holds the ticker tape in her hand and knows how to use a pair of scissors.


Snip, snip, snip.


Prompt

Turtle / Jewelery Store / Poem


Space and Time and Mountains and Heat is Not Enough to Say I Love You.


First there is space and time.

Then rock and movement.


Millenia pass.


Fine grains of sand slowly

Cascade,

Embed,

And are collected.


Intense heat and pressure is how it really begins.


Began.


It was a Wednesday,

I remember that.


The window glittered

With all that was not gold.


In seeming clarity,

A sea glass turtle.


We were friends,

right up until that moment.


Gently brushed skin.

The spoiling of years.


A chunk of time and sand.

The hourglass turns.


What all occurred to bring us,

To this moment.

In this doorway?

On a Wednesday.


Of all days.


Jagged shards cut deep,

Smoothed by years.


How much the mountain went through,

To get here.


How much must we go through,

To get there?


The bell rings and 4 solid feet skitter to mama.


And the moment is lost.


Space and time and

Mountain and heat,

Lies loved in a box,

On a shelf,

In a room.


Waiting all that time.

And more again.






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