What giant step did you take where you hoped your leg wouldn’t break? Was it worth it, were you successful in walking on the moon, or did your leg break?
Photographers, artists, poets: show us RISK.
One morning as the sun was rising I took a photo. Nothing special you are thinking, but it is a rare occasion when I am awake and venture in the outside world with a camera in the hand to take a photo of a sunrise. My photo collection is mainly composed of sunsets.
My life consists of moonwalks, and not in the Michael Jackson style. I have been breaking out all my life. The first breakout was from the East End of London. My education was behind me and now it was time to go. One day I took a look at my surroundings, at the people around me and decided there must be more to this life thing, so I packed my case and left, although I took a few precautions.
Where to go? Definitely nowhere in England, somewhere over the sea (England is an island as we all know). I found a job in a little country called Switzerland. I had big ideas about improving my knowledge of French, but I arrived in a moon town where they spoke German. This was no problem; German was a foreign language as well. Unfortunately the Swiss spoke their own dialect. I managed to cross my first moon crater, picked up some moon dust on the way and then I met a Moonman. OK, I call him Mr. Swiss today. Was this the end of my Moonwalking?
Of course not, married life with a Swiss is one big inter galactic survival challenge. I was under the impression that everyone spoke English, even if they were not English. This was my first mistake on the lunar horizon. Of course, Mr. Swiss spoke English and perfectly. His mother did not speak English, my step children did not speak English (they were too young) and all his friends spoke Swiss German with each other. Either I remained a Mars woman or I joined in, so I did. I became a moon woman with a Martian accent, but eventually learnt this alien language.
The next crater to overcome was the food and cooking. Being woman I could adapt and instead of serving fish and chips (French fries for those from another planetry zone), I was doing a moonwalk through Rösti and Bratwurst. I discovered that veal was not something to be avoided (as in moon basis England), but to be eaten, preferably on Sunday as it was and still is an expensive animal in the lunar world.
I became a working woman, which was also like putting my foot on unknown territory. I discovered that desks in a Swiss office were organised and neat, making little piles everywhere in case the Chief Moonman appeared. He was to be impressed at all times. Here I did my small step for woman and one large leap for womankind by being the first to have a chaos on the desk. Moon people are polite, so they say nothing, just give my desk a sideways glance now and again. When my Chief Moonman noticed that I still found what he wanted, he said no more. He realised that I was from another planet (England?).
During the past years I managed to break my left arm on two occasions in two different places, but my legs are still in one piece. The biggest risk I take is when I arise in the morning, as there are many adventures to be overcome during the day. I battle my way to the cash desk in the supermarket, and meet many extra terrestials on the way. Generally miniature moonwalkers that now have their own miniature trolleys to help mummy moonwalkers with the shopping. They are an annoyance and the biggest risk for encouraging the breakage of a leg when they push their mini trolley in your path.
Today I cleared some moon leaves from the garden. I began the job yesterday and as our earth sun was shining and it was warmer, I decided to finish the work. I realised this was one moonwalk I could have left. The worst part was filling the two green moon containers with the garden refuse and pushing it along the path until it arrived where it will be collected by the astronauts next week. I now have a clear garden and some of the moon flowers are already showing their heads. I even saw extraterrestrial life forms on the moon landscape when I had shifted the moon dust to one side: a firebug crossed my path and two spiders. I think I disturbed their winter moonsleep.
And now to upload my epic report from outer space, through the cyber landscape of Internet, whilst Bill Gates looks on and claps his hands. I wonder here his origins are? I heard it was planet Microsoft which is often updated. Is he virtuel or does he really have two brains, one on the cyber level and one for earthly needs?
Daily Prompt: Walking on the Moon
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Pingback: Daily Prompt: Walking on the Moon | Infinitefreetime
Your post is so funny i laughed the whole time while reading it.
Thank you.
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Walking to the Moon as a title was an inspiration to be funny
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In this photo, you’ve caught the evidence for Goethe’s theory of colors. I know that’s a weird comment, but you’ve gotten it — I love the picture.
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I asked Mr Swiss and he confirmed that Goethe did a book about colours, so looked it up on Internet. Interesting theory and it was the lighting effect that encouraged me to take the photo.
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Pressed submit too soon! I meant to mention a couple of young English tourists in the Central Station in Milan. There was a strike. I speak Italian. They didn’t. The police man said, “There’s a subway strike today until 3 pm. You will have to find taxis.” These two young women were adamant and passionately objective in English. One of them said, “We must speak to someone in charge, someone who speaks English!” I was amused. I went up to them and said, “There’s a strike. The subway won’t be operating until 3 pm. You have to take a taxi. Not even the trams are running.” The looked down at me (they were very tall Englishwomen) and said, “Well, how do YOU know?” as if I, a mere American, could not possibly understand what they did not. It was really cute. I hope they got a taxi. I walked on, went outside, spent an half an hour talking to a nice nun and had a pleasant ride in a taxi with a man who said that things were so bad in August that the only reasonable solution for a taxi driver was to shoot himself. 🙂
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The English sometimes seem to be fish out of water when in a country where English is not spoken. I am a socialble type (too much sometimes says Mr. Swiss) but that is usually when I am not helpful or just ignore. I notice when in england and tell my family about people I have met or deal with. The first question is “Do they speak english” and I have to reply “I don’t know” as I am really not interested and do not even ask them if they can speak english.
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Pingback: My Disney College Program (A quick summary of why) | The Bohemian Rock Star's "Untitled Project"
And what are doing the moonfelines?
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Sleeping, as usual. They leave howling at the moon to the canines,
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Absolutely Brilliant Pat! Love this piece – fun and inspired!
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