Mother And Son Talk
/When Momma Gets Writer's Block She Calls Upon Paulie To Take A Ride
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Outside darken clouds hovered overhead, acting confused and going nowhere, watching Paulie pondering, figuring things out, consulting the zebra.
Inside the kitchen, Momma sat at the table pen in hand, “Oh dear I forgot what I was going to say.” She declared needing a break.
Grabbing a coat, she confronted the cold chill, “Paulie, tack up the zebra, we are going to take a ride.”
“Where Momma?”
“Someplace where I can think,”
Moments later, Paulie presented the zebra for travel, “your chariot awaits,”
“Thank you, my son,” Momma acknowledged taking the passenger side, “you drive.”
“Where do you want to go? Momma.” Paulie requested
“Anywhere, Paulie, Anywhere.”
“I will let the zebra direct us,” Paulie controlled the zebra pulled buggy.
Leaving the driveway Momma explained, “I was working on this piece the local glossy magazine wants me to write and my mind went blank, ideas were not able to flow.”
“It’s called writer’s block, Momma.”
As the zebra listened intently, keeping his eyes on the road, Momma inquired about Paulie’s dramatic friendship triangle.
Snapping the reign, instructing the zebra ‘pay attention’ the youngster honestly spun his tale, “well Princess Lida is still caught up in the fact that I am a Prince,”
“That is up to you,” Momma offered, “if you want to go back to that lifestyle then,”.
“And Becky Sue,”
“The gypsy daughter,” Momma clarified.
“She is a villager, Momma,” Paulie defended.
“Who came from gypsy blood,”
“What does that mean? Momma,” Paulie quizzically remarked.
Laughing Momma responded, “you will soon find out.”
A half hour elapsed, and Paulie brought the zebra back to the property, “did this trip and conversation help?” The boy pleasantly asked.
“Sure did, Paulie, thank you for the ride.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“Now that the blockade is gone, I am going to finish the project.”
With the zebra taking up Paulie’s time Momma occupied the family office and returned to the story. After final touches Momma noticed Poppa venture in, “Paulie said you were suffering from writer’s block.”
“Not anymore,” Momma smiled, “our son spun tales during our conversation, featuring gypsies and Princesses, then I just let my imagination go.”
“Really,” Poppa was ecstatic, “so are you going to use your name or a made-up pen one?”
“I am going to say the dog wrote it,” Momma informed.
“We do not have a dog,” Poppa corrected.
“Then it will be the cat,” Momma suggested.
“We do not have a cat,” Poppa reminded Momma.
A few silent seconds ticked off the clock, “then it will be the zebra,” they both announced in unison.
By Marc OBrien
From: United States
Website: https://www.austinmacauley.com/author/obrien-marc
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