The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #3

pink bird of paradise

The Iron Writer

Weekend Quickie #3

One Image!

One Prompt!

One Emotion!


A Pink Parrot

A Snowglobe


Please add your story in the comments below.

12 thoughts on “The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #3

  1. The plastic cover on the floral embroidered, white couch, protested as I shifted my weight from one buttock to the other. I always thought it was ironic to own a couch you have to cover up just to sit on.

    “Would you like something to drink young man?” asked my date’s mother. Or was it her grandmother? Her voice was chipper but croaky.

    “Oh, no thanks. I’m good ma’am,” I said, trying not to seem a bother. She stood at the kitchen entry with a teapot and cup in hand. Her back stiffened and she turned back into the kitchen. I cringed at my fumbled humility.

    The formal sitting room I waited in was decorated with all sorts of strange knick-knacks. I noticed more irony in my surroundings. On the mantle sat a row of snow globes filled with exotic, tropical birds. The most ironic was a long picture frame over the fireplace containing a cross-stitch of the word Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia. Clever.

    “Weird-Ohs,” I muttered to myself.

    “Did you say something?” a voice said.

    There stood my date looking gorgeous in her evening dress.

    “Nope, let’s boogie babe,” I said, peeling myself from the ostentatious couch with a sigh of relief.

  2. “Sad”

    He stared at the beautiful feathers suspended in mid-air. Meditation never let him down. He gripped the snow globe and shook it once more, watching the snowflakes settle around the bird’s purple plume.

    As his hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia grew worse, his meditation jumped to six sessions a day. As the peaceful links to his sanity settled at the bottom, the word “floccinaucinihilipilification” floated to his consciousness’s forefront.

    “Aghast!” He grabbed his mane of wild hair, threading his fingers tightly through it, and yanked out a large section. “My sanity does have value! It must!”

    He hurled the snow globe containing his precious bird against the wall, the shards dancing and glittering on the downy rug. On top of his desk lay his last vestige of mercy. A pencil clawed tightly in his palm, he scribed:

    I am Cam the Man

    I like scrambled eggs and spam

    Do you like my little concoction?

    The fortitude of my gastrointestinal tract cannot withstand the uncomfortable sensations produced. Could you please provide a platter of Lopadotemachoselachogaleokranioleipsanodrimhypotrimmatosilphioparaomelitokatakechymenokichlepikossyphophattoperisteralektryonoptekephalliokigklopeleiolagoiosiraiobaphetraganopterygon?

    Cam dropped his pencil, staring at the abominations on his page. He reached for his snow globe, but the wetness beneath his feet reminded him of his earlier tantrum, and he wept.

    • Lopadotemachoselachogaleokranioleipsanodrimhypotrimmatosilphioparaomelitokatakechymenokichlepikossyphophattoperisteralektryonoptekephalliokigklopeleiolagoiosiraiobaphetraganopterygon can be found if you look it up in wiki… Don’t try to find it on Google… It will tell you the word is too long. LOL!

      • it has cut my word off twice now! Let me see if I can get it to fit…


      • Grrrr… It doesn’t like the length of this word. I’m going to break it down.. Now, it’s in bite-sized chunks!


      • 17th time’s a charm? Here is the word… LOL


  3. It is not that I think if you use big words you like to show off, I just like to keep words as tiny as I can, since the long ones make me ill at ease. A word that is six long gives me some pain, one over nine make me feel like I will puke, but one in the teens make me have a fit on the floor. The first items in this trial were not too hard: the image of the bird of Eden with the odd hues, then the glass orb full of water and fake snow. I could not look right at the last word, and rued the side view I got, since even then I felt a wave of ague and ennui.
    I like to read short words, like the big store where “we sell for less,” or the Army ad “be all you can be.” The best of the bible to me is John 11:35, “Jesus wept.” In John are also seven times when the Lord just said “I am.” Then there is the guy that waits for word on the big news, and sends the email “?” only to get the reply “!.”

  4. “I see you’re back to your old snowglobe.”
    Doctor Fleur scratched some notes down on his pad.
    “Yes, it helps in times of stress, you know that. It reminds me of when my Dad came home for Christ…mas.”
    He noticed Rik’s twitch had come back.
    “Only 3 syllables, Rik? Tell me, what happened?”
    “I had to read my Mum’s pres…medi…”
    “Your mother is ill?”
    “Yes, I had to read the back of her bottle.”
    “Too many.”
    “Ah, yes, I see.”
    Rik suffered from Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia or Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia as they would say. His mother’s prescribed medicine was always a constant threat.
    “I’m almost calm now.”
    “Sure, go ahead, shake all you like. There’s still some time left.”
    Doctor Fleur sat and waited, looking out of his window, sometimes admiring his new collection of framed birds of paradise he received as a gift from another patient.
    “They’re nice.”
    “I said, they’re nice, doctor.”
    “Oh, the pictures? Yes, Birds of…birds.”
    “The pink one is very nice, the wings and all.”
    “But, you know, there’s a flower called that.”
    “What? Pink bird of…yes, I believe I know that one. Isn’t that Caesalpinia?”
    Rik went straight back to shaking his snowglobe.

  5. Speed Dating
    by Tannis Laidlaw

    Him: One doesn’t appreciate a bird-of-paradise is both vegetal and a winged incarnate organism. Well, I didn’t until I chanced upon a facsimile of an exquisitely exotic but somewhat sappy-looking diminutive pink bird inside a snowglobe.
    Her: Um, ah…
    Him: Not that there was any simulated snow in there – it was gilded glitter. Birds-of-paradise are tropical. Maybe the glamorous glitz signified sunshine.
    Her: Simulated snow? Gilder glitter?
    Him: Meanwhile, my personal bird-of-paradise was about to blossom, also magnificently exotic, but a plant. With feet in loam.
    Her: Okay, I get it. A filter.
    Him: Got it in one.
    Her: Works for me. I’m a hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobe. Bye.
    Him: Wait!
    Her: What?
    Him: It’s just a filter. Don’t you use one?
    Her: Of course.
    Him: Come on. Give.
    Her: Whatever the guy says, I say back, ‘You’re such a dumb bunny.’
    Him: How’s that a filter?
    Her: The dumb ones get in a huff. The smart ones laugh.
    Him: Wanna meet for coffee?
    Her: When and where?

  6. Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanokoniosis
    Danielle Lee Zwissler
    Janice looked at the snowglobe that one of her patients gave her for Christmas. It was only a week away, and every year she thought about him.
    “You didn’t have to give me anything,” Dr. Janice Spiro said as Michael LeBlanc gave her the red glittery bag.
    Michael blushed. “I wanted you to have something from me. Something to remember me by.”
    Dr. Jan looked curiously at Michael and nodded. “I hope that’s not a call for help, Michael. You’re not going to do anything, are you?”
    Michael shook his head. “No, Janice…I’m not.”
    “Dr. Spiro,” Janice corrected.
    Michael turned toward Janice. “This is my last session with you. I know the rules.”
    Janice swallowed. “What are you talking about?”
    “You can’t be with your patients…I know this. I want this last session to be special, and then we can finally be together.”
    Janice knew all too well how patients fell in love with their doctors—it was called transference.
    “Michael, we talked about this.”
    “Listen, I know I’m nuts. I mean, how many patience do you have that has Hippo…hippo….hi…..” Michael started to sweat. He couldn’t complete the sentence. Janice knew why.
    Michael flinched. “Yes.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yes. That.”
    “I can’t go out with you, it wouldn’t be right.”
    “Just read the card, it’s in the bag along with your gift.”
    Janice sighed and tried to smile. She pulled out a beautiful snowglobe. It was exquisite with its reds and greens and whites. It was a perfect scene of the North Pole. “This is lovely, Michael, thank you.”
    “Read the card,” Michael prompted.
    Janice found the envelope and opened it slowly, keeping an eye on Michael.
    “I know it’s not very holiday specific, but I found it and thought of you.” Janice looked down at the card and gasped. It was a picture of her favorite bird.
    “This is beautiful.”
    “Please read the card.”
    Jan opened it up and read.
    My dearest Janice,
    I’m writing to you so you know how very deeply I feel about you. You have helped me with my disease, and by doing so, I have fallen in love with you. You are the apple to my eye, the Scarlet to my Rhett. Please, accept my notice, and go out with me. If you deny me of my affections, I hope I die a most painful death…pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanokoniosis.

    I hope you know how serious I am now.
    Love, Michael.
    Janice shut the card and could feel the moisture in her eyes. He couldn’t say the word, but he wrote one down just as long. The gesture meant so much. Maybe she could, just once…
    “I accept,” Janice said, and then brought Michael into her arms

Leave a Comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.