In honor of extra tax days

turtle accountant

Daily green dots appear in the withered brown grass…

“How about getting me a pencil, please? Better not start with a pen. And will you fix me a cup of Earl Gray, with some of those little sesame cookies?”

Bulbs planted confidently months earlier explode in bright colors.

“Where’s that list of interest payments I told you to get? Gosh! We paid that much in interest? Thank God it’s deductible!”

Kites flutter in the wind, some on mile-long strings while others have already met their final destinations,  wrapped around telephone lines.

“Look, can you send the kids to your mother’s house or somewhere? I swear, I’m going straight up a pole if they don’t shut up!”

In cemeteries there is a buzz of activity as pots of lilies and azaleas are placed on graves while work crews weed and rake, cleaning out the winter debris.

“My God, it costs too much to even live these days! Let’s have spaghetti for supper… but get hamburger meat. Ground round costs too much. And grab a bottle of wine. Two bottles, maybe, the cheaper stuff.”

Winter has vanished with its colds and runny noses, while soft balmy breezes bring the fragrance of spring flowers.

“Hell, yeah, I’m going to claim any medical expense I find even if it is only $18.42. As much as we paid that quack? And I’d bet you a pretty blanking penny that aspirin would have worked just as well as those fancy-schmancy pills. He’s probably a major stock-holder, that’s why he likes writing those blanking prescriptions!”

On the front lawn, a robin stretches a worm to the breaking point…

“Every damned year! There’s no #$#%-blanking sense in this. Next year, we’re going to get this all done by February 15th and I mean it. Boy, when I think of those blanking-#$#% senators with their earmarks and Wall Street fat cats and that lame-brained bridge to nowhere and here I struggle to make ends meet with gas looking at $4 a gallon by summer but somehow I’ve got to pay even more taxes… well, let me tell you something, boy, next year, #$#%  #$#% #$#% #$#% blanking blanking…”


“The time of the singing of birds has come,
and the voice of the turtle is heard in the land.”
(Song of Solomon 2:12)

Image: Illustration of a turtle accountant © Knumina Studios and licensed by at using contributions from readers similar to you.

Mary Willis Cantrell

I have always been a story-teller (Southern born and Irish descended) and a dreamer (e.g.,  Democrat in dark Red state). btw, I am aka Cokefloat since I am safely retired from a major soft-drink company well-known in the Atlanta area. And I've finally decided to come out of my closet... to date most of my writing has always been in the dark. Some ghost-writing, rewriting for others, copy-editing, contests, The Vent. That kind of thing. I want to put my stories down on paper, at last, and maybe even see a dream come true. Yeah. Like my candidate will finally win. Sure.