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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/981089
Rated: 18+ · Book · Personal · #2017254
My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum.
#981089 added April 14, 2020 at 12:50pm
Restrictions: None
Tomorrow
5 DAY Andre the Blog Monkey's April Fools Mystery Writing Challenge
Blog Prompt for Day 5 Yesterday is history and tomorrow is a mystery. Think about your future, short-term then long-term, is it all a mystery or fairly predictable, share your findings in today's blog entry.


Thank you for playing along in this 5 Day Challenge. I enjoyed it so much I'm adding a BONUS PROMPT for Day 5.1 (April 15th)
I was going to release the prompt in this post, but then thought, No! I'll leave it a mystery.
         
         Well, I fully anticipate having and enjoying a short-term future. I'm capable of committing to tomorrow, next week, a couple of months from now and possibly next year. Yep, I believe that time frame to be fairly predictable with the same old same old. I plan to be plodding along with my everyday pursuits like blogging here at WDC. There are more mystery prompts to meet and dissect.
         The future weather is both predictable and mysterious. The seasons come and go with my expectations based upon years of observations. Sure, the snow will eventually disappear, but the when is never a given. It can return if it chooses before relinquishing its grip. The un-winter, er, summer, will not necessarily be all sunshine and heat. One sure harbinger announces Spring.
         Of course, the ravenous blood-thirsty blackflies and their almost as equally annoying co-biters, the mosquitos, will swarm me as they have for, cough, cough, decades. I suppose I could admit they are predictable. As soon as the last of the snow melts, they immediately invade 'my' locale. And we naïve, sun-starved citizens tempt them with our pasty-white, parka-shucked skin. There's no mystery there, or is there?
         Why do they even exist? Why does this 'plague' thrive only to torment me? Some Canadians claim that they are impervious to this blood-sucking scourge. Really? If so, why? Just thinking of these ornery buggers makes my skin crawl. Perhaps I will live long enough to see them eradicated , or a repellent invented that does just that, repel. This is my living, breathing, scratching local mystery.
         I hope to experience a long-term future. The variables and probabilities may disagree, but I'm optimistic. Living to become an octogenarian is not a sure thing. My physical health could be an unravelling mystery, revealed little tenuous threads separating, one by one. The odds are favourable that I will be granted a second knee replacement. A matching set would improve my mobility. I'm somewhat confident that I shall retain all my marbles and remember what to do with them. Senility, the real deal, doesn't haunt my families. I'm not claiming though that people haven't pronounced us crazy.
         I'd also bet that I'll be 'blessed' by at least a few more accidents. The timing, the location, and the severity of those mishaps is the surprise. They never issue a warning. They just strike and let the chips, meaning me, fall where they may. Yep, most of my incidents, a lifetime precedent of them, can be attributed to falls. Not all were explicable. I believe a few were "what the __ _" moments initiated by a malevolent spirit. I recall a sensation of being pushed or tripped, but the naysayers claim I trip over air. Am I the sole 'victim' to hear strains of 'The Twilight Zone' music?
         So, to recap. No, not everything about my future is predictable. Do I want it to be? No! This gal loves some mystery.
         P.S.I am exhausted. I did not foresee the events of last evening and early this morning. Wind storms have blown through before. This wind battered the building I live in and howled for hours. The aluminum siding could not resist and throughout the long hours it relinquished its hold. Oh, it protested with creaks and shrieks. All night, I heard clangs, thumps, screeches and whumps. In the aftermath, a sunny, cool morning, shards of siding lay scattered on the ground. Why now? Why this building , but not the others nearby? Why can't I ignore the noise and sleep?

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/981089