Spring Arrives

goddess of spring

~

2008

~

Stephanie was quite a gal, cute as a button, and verily verily efficient. And she didn’t like unions. That’s all I knew about her ~ that she didn’t like unions & she was the deputy boss.

One late afternoon, I think it was Wednesday, March 26th, 2008 (five days into spring according to the calendar) I was sitting next to her desk in her office that had no window. Stephanie’s office was so small it must had been at one time a closet. I wanted to get her a window ~ or a technicolor photo from a calendar of a hawk perched on the end of a busted tree branch surrounded by blue blue sky. I had this color photo hanging on my side of the room back at the Veterans Integration Center (VIC). The bird was a pretty impressive hawk. I wanted to frame it & hang it in Stephanie’s office & declare, “There ~ now you got a window.” But I never did. Instead, all I did was bring in a doctor’s note in my futile attempt to get out of doing extra hours.

Now I was sitting in her office, watching the deputy boss who didn’t like unions toss this note aside. There sat I, watching this note glide through the air like a trapeze artist missing the trapeze. It landed fatally injured in the unwanted-doctor-notes pile on the corner of Stephanie’s desk.

“You can still work extra-hours on a split shift according to this note,” said Stephanie. And there it went ~ flying threw the air.

“Yes, but but…”

“If that’s not the case, you’ll have to have the doctor clarify what he means,” said Stephanie. Ye olde run-around.

“But, Stephanie…”

“We have a new worker starting tomorrow, Clyde. And 4 more next week. So maybe you won’t be getting any more extra hours for a while. You made an agreement.”

“But, but, what about tomorrow morning?”

“You’ll have to come in.”

“Can’t the new guy do it?”

With eyes cast down studying something lying dead on the corner of her desk, Stephanie slowly, solomnly, shook her head.

“Well, then, I have to qwit,” gritted I ~ and sprang to my feet, a new-found slave to the Season of Spring. There was no turning back. I had just made the announcement. I had just made the commitment. I was quitting ~ and now I was totally abducted by the totalitarian mother of seasons. Yes! The heavenly half-naked she-bitch of Spring had me by the neck, captured in the crook of her slender arm. She was pulling me away. The rest of the conversation didn’t matter ~ it just didn’t matter.

Stephanie leaped from behind her desk. She scurried after me as I was whisked out of her office. Cheek to cheek with the warm breast of Mother Spring was I.

Yes! Yes! The goddess Spring transformationed into a gorgeous giantess of sunshine, rain, & bloom. She picked me up like a babe, swaddled me in her refulgent arms & carried me away. Scurrying after us, Stephanie called out, “We have an exit procedure!”

I peered back at my darlin’ deputy-boss, who appeared to be, now, a midget. I replied, “I’m sure you dooooooo!!!”

~

from

Going To Prescott

by Cloyd Campfire

http://bakdezerttrail.yolasite.com

~

goddess of spring

~

photos

La Esmeralda

http://la-esmeralda.deviantart.com

~

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About Rawclyde!

I have employed a few pen names throughout the years. Rawclyde with an exclamation mark (!) is the one too sticky to go away... Came of age at Crawford High, San Diego, CA ~ writing sports, a column, & playing football ~ graduated in '68... Attended SDSU for a couple years... Hit the road in a '56 Chevy milk-truck, a "studymobile," filling up notebooks & working as a laborer in the southwest... Practiced the genteel art of fiction for several years in my hometown... Enlisted in the U.S. Army ~ they made me a newsman in Hawaii ~ wrote another column for a while... Attended more courses at SDSU ~ studied novel writing with Professor Charlie Brashers... Sold books out of an '85 Ford one-ton van, a "book mule," in the desert... Did some writing in an old hotel in Prescott AZ... Have written & self-published 9 or so books ~ many of which are hiding out on the cyber highway...
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