Welcome to Voices

Spring 2007 issue:

The Cardinal by Dorothy May
Amen by Linda Weber
Wildflowers by David Orr
How Much I Care by Anderson McMahon
The Teachers by R. V. Schmidt
Those Thrilling Days of Yesteryear by Alice Spencer
Why by Leah Popper
What Makes People Happy? by Leah Popper
Dawgs in the Night by Laurelee Roark
Memory by Jo Chavez
A Painless Science Lesson for Kids by Bob Mason
Aleister Crowley by Lee Prosser
Replenishing the Dollmaker's Supplies by Ed Jacobson
As You Begin Your Twentieth Year by Ric Giardina
My Senior Moments by Miriam Strauss
The Rose by David Orr
Song of Jubilee by Anderson McMahon
Beau's Striped Sweater
by Leah Popper
Bubble Gum
by Leah Popper
The Writer and the Cricket by Lee Prosser
Helpful Hands by Ric Giardina
The Shoe by Miriam Strauss

 

 

 

The Writer and the Cricket

© Lee Prosser

Once upon a time in the far future when things had changed completely but still had a peculiar ending, there was a writer who was also an artist and composer who in turn had as his loving companion a spotted-back cricket.  It was the end of the universe, and they both knew it.  The writer turned to his companion and said quietly, “I am finally come to realize I am an outsider at the frontier, and this is the final and last frontier.”  The cricket chirped a cheerful little tune, then responded in this manner:  “I understand and share that feeling with you because I am also an outsider at the frontier, and this is truly the final and last frontier.  Fate, like many other existential tidbits, is on a first-come-first-served basis.  Be careful what you ask for because like any surreal dream, time and life must have a stop.  When you become de-sensitized to the point you cannot feel or dream life, you are nothing left but a mere burnt-out case of a lonely cinder in a dead camp fire.  Fables die.  It is our turn now. We have outlived our reason to be.”  Thus ends the tale of the writer who was also an artist and composer who in turn had as his loving companion a spotted-back cricket.