A Town Called Discord

 

A Town Called Discord

          or Matters of High Strangeness

by Ellen Pepper

A few years ago, in a town called Discord,
There was a merry group of chanticleers,
not roosters but their human equivalent,
larking about singing songs of dread combat in the outer world.
The flock angled hard for comforts and ease of cares.
Folk in the commune allowed them congress in the town square.
It was the good of times.

As time went by, the group began to shed members.
Some through ennui,
Some through mendacious harm,
Some to seek fame and fortune in the greater collectives to the south.

Bickering and shadow boxing dampened enthusiasm.
Couples became throuples and drama accelerated.
Accusations were flung and deflected.
 The bard defected.
Without his offerings, the songs grew stilted
and no one was able to compose the anthems of yore.

Remnants of the choir stayed true but merely whimpered without the stirring melodies for which they had gained renown.

Some stepped aside to sing lullabies to babies.
Some went silent, like unto ghosts.
Some were so busy that they noticed not the shift.
One took to recording the change for future reference.

Eventually, it all came to a halt and the remaining townspeople departed.
Some to join family in far-flung lands.
Some to their hermit caves.
Some just failed to continue living.
In time, the Town called Discord was abandoned.
Only sagebrush and tumbleweeds,
 sweet pea, and lilac
were found still inhabiting the empty roads
and hollowed out housing.
It was the bad of times.
 

The last hermit, in his cave,
 Inscribed on parchment:
"The human body is a cage.
Life & Death operate on a continuum.
While life is cruel and unusual punishment,
Lyrics need the music, even so.
Death is release from pain.
Sorrow ends in time.
The Town of Discord is no more."


©Ellen Pepper 2025

 

Ma Belle Dame sans Merci

by Ellen Pepper 

 

Tale of a Woman who felt Scorned

Gaze no more upon her formidable aspect.
She was a dreadful fiend with fearsome eyes.
She had power to enchant,
and to heal,
and to turn some to stone.
She lived in the distant west at night's border.

Percy was a charismatic man of elegant mien.
Did he set out to slay her tender heart? Of course not.
Fault him not, he bears no accountability.
He is an innocent man.

Our Belle Dame, Belle to friends,
saw him first on a Spring morning.
He was sat at a writing desk near a window
gazing out at the sea.
A quill in hand, he wrote of events of the time,
his opinions thereof,
and his plans to change the world.

They spoke. They laughed.
They found comfort with each other.
Belle saw him as the Ideal Man,
a paragon of masculinity.
With his words, he touched her heart.

Percy saw her as light and entertaining,
without being a distraction from his labour of love.
He had not an inkling of what lurked in the depths of her soul,
The darkness there, awaiting its awakening.
He was naive. Trusting. 

On the night that Belle professed her abiding love for him,
Percy drew away in distress.
He had no desire to wound her with the truth,
but he knew it was only right to say it.
His heart belonged to another - his dedication to his work.
No human could deflect him from his sacred task.

Poor Belle. At first, her heart felt battered and bruised.
After a while, the rage grew.
Rage against Fate, rage against Life and eventually rage against Percy who had sent her away with no further word.
And then, her Dark Side arose.

She vowed vengeance. Retribution.
She composed songs of rage and sorrow.
She wrote scathing missives and sent them via hellhounds.
Passing him at the agora, she uttered words of barbed impact,
delivered by tongue daggers.

Let it suffice to say that Percy no longer felt affection for her.
He felt dismay at first which then became disgust, despair, and finally contempt.
He abandoned his home and settled in a land far away.
He was more careful with women in later days.

Belle went on to marry a Professor of Humours in Athens.
He patiently tamed her violent ways with an ease
that belied his initial trepidation of her fiendish phase.
Her infernal rage dissipated and she was at peace.
When she died, a butterfly rose from her grave.

 ©Ellen Pepper 2025
image credit:  https://luisafumi-digitalart.com/product/medusa-the-gorgon/

Shapeshifter Street

 

Shapeshifter

by Ellen Pepper


Seen posted to a streetlamp in Manhattan: MEET ME ON SUNDAY

Clichéd rain-slicked street reflecting flashing  neon lights.
Man dressed all in black, hunting knife strapped to his upper thigh.
Walking at a deliberately formidable pace.
The sharp aroma of Cutty Sark enswathing him like saran wrap.
Tobacco juice dripping onto his black beard from the dip he chews.
Grimacing as he passes an alleyway reeking of freshly trickled urine.

It's Sunday now and he has a meeting to attend.
He saw a sign on a lamp post.

Sister Ruthless of the Blessed Black Whip, dressed in a habit of midnight blue, sits on a fold-up chair at their meeting place.
She's smirking because she knows that tonight is the night.
For a hefty fee, Sister Ruthless disciplines Saville Row-suited business men who feel that they weren't punished enough in parochial school. She charges by the amount of lashes she dispenses.

Since the man in black, aka Fred, was raised in an obscure cult - members numbering fewer then 300 - he has the belief that all formal religions are also cultish and finds them to be corrupt power plays. Therefore, he's amused by the BDSM outfit the faux nun wears.

"Hey, Sister Ruth! Tonight's the night!"
Both chuckle and they bump fists.
A man on a unicycle rides by shouting, "You can run but you can't hide, Fred! Tonight's the night!"
Fred laughingly says, "How's the poutine in Québec, Théo? Will you be joining us later?"

Théo points at his clown uniform, "Mais oui, Freddie, but first I must change to appropriate event attire."
Fred replies, "Don't go changin', tryin' to please me. Come as you are."
Théo pulls out an ebony silken cape from his magical clown bag and ties it around his neck, covering his clown suit. He takes up his position beside Fred.

 In the distance, there arises a tremendous clatter of hobnailed boots striking the cobblestones as what appears to be an army of very small men approaches.

 Théo swears under his breath, "Merde! Tabarnak! Are they hobbits??!!"
Fred gently corrects him, saying, "Hobbits don't wear boots."

As the army of little people draws nearer, the nun, the clown and the man in black notice that they are brandishing weapons - mysterious shining light-forming sickles.

Sister Ruthless, somewhat aghast wonders how they can possibly beat this team when they've never seen weapons of this kind before. Suddenly, the night takes on a threatening ambiance.

"Fear not," whispers Fred, "I have an idea."

As the diminutive troupe comes within a few strides of the three, Fred takes a menacing stance and without shouting, projects his voice to state simply: “I am obliged by law to warn you not to continue.”
Then, chameleon-like, he sheds his man in black human casing to reveal a nile-green reptilian form and the miniature army draws back in fear, raising their lit-up weapons.

Sister Ruthless snickers and says, "Fred has earned First Blood by causing fear. Will you concede victory and retreat now or would you like to experience the full panoply of what we have to offer?

The Leader of the opposers confers with his soldiers.
"We will fight to the death. We fear not the Shapeshifters. Our Land is sacred and we must defend it."

Sister Ruthless shimmers for a moment before she is revealed in her true aspect - an arachnid. A rather large terrestrial invertebrate...a scorpion.

Again, the small guys retreat a few feet. They mutter amongst themselves. The Leader steps forward, trembling a wee bit.
"You can only defeat us if we fear you. We do NOT fear you. There's nothing you can do to cause us to ..."
He gasps and pales as Théo unties his cape and slowly reveals his...
CLOWN SUIT!!!!

Shrieking in terror, some of the little guys drop dead in fear immediately. The invading army turns tail and tries to run away, falling all over themselves and each other, screaming, "IT'S A CLOWN!! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"

It seems that, of all the Shapeshifters on duty that night, the Clown was the most effective at routing the hostile enemy.

The dead tell no tales. What happens on the street stays in the street.  I know because I live on the street.  It can be dark and grim. Welcome to Planet Earth. (BJW)

©Ellen Pepper 2025

Overheard in a cafe

 

 

Overheard in a cafe

by Ellen Pepper

 

Harold: "Never take me for granite, Becca."

Becca: "It's 'granted'."

Harold: "No, I meant to say granite. I'm more like soapstone on the Mohs hardness scale."

Becca: "I don't get you, Harold. I just don't. It's like we speak different languages."

Harold: "Becca, I cherish you. I mean this sincerely. But we are unsuited to each other. You will never grok my allusions... and you lack a sense of hunour."

Becca: "Allusions or illusions? Words have meanings, you know."

Harold: (sighs) "I rest my case."
___________________________________

Alicia: "There is a truth that must be spoken. It's time."

Gwen: "Can we not discuss this in public, Ally?"

Alicia: "Oh, but we must deal with this in a public place because it makes it less likely that you'll have a hissy fit when I share some hard truths with you."

G: "There is nothing you can say that I'm not aware of."

A: "Oh...so you know that your selfishness knows no bounds? That you show a lack of concern for anyone other than yourself? That you are mendacious and manipulative? That you charm and then alienate everyone with whom you come in contact? You're aware of all of this and yet you have not resorted to therapy?

G: "Why don't you tell me how you really feel? Not that I care. You mean nothing to me now. I don't need people like you in my life. I'm leaving."

A: "Before you go, let me remind you of the time we were checking out apartments to share and in every unit you decided that you were entitled to the largest room because, as you said, you're a slob and need more room to spread out your stuff. Not for a moment did you consider a more equitable way to determine how each room was allocated."

"And how about every time a guy expressed interest in me, you'd sidle up and whisper in his ear that your mouth was available to give them an immediate "happy ending" and then you'd both head off to a private spot to complete the transaction. You actually did me a favour by revealing the losers for what they are. So, thank you for that."

G:  (gasps histrionically) "Is nothing private? Is nothing sacred?"

A: "Oh, please stop acting like a fragile flower of femininity. You know exactly what you're doing at all times. Don't roll your eyes at me. Let us never speak of this again. As a matter of fact, let us never speak with each other again. You no longer exist in my world."

G: "I will ruin you for this, mark my words! I'll tell everyone what you're really like."

A: "Yeah, right. Good luck with that. The people who know me already know all about me and have done for years. They know about you because you conned them all. You came out of nowhere and that's where you'll return. Karma always knows where you live. I'm done with you now. You may leave."

_________________________________________

Eric: "Hi, I'm Eric, Kristina's friend from the library? Are you Stacey?"

Stacey: "Hello Eric, please join me. Yes, I'm Stacey. Nice to meet you. Are you as nervous as I am?"

E: "Yes, for sure. I've never been on a blind date before. I'm not sure how to operate this sort of thing."

S: "Well, I guess we're supposed to just chat and get to know each other. It's not like we're getting married today or anything." (titters briefly - stops and blushes)

E: "I never plan to get married. Don't want kids, either."

S: (somewhat taken aback) "I see...So! What do you do for a living?" 

E: "I'd rather not say. You know what it's like when you sign an NDA, right?

S: "Actually, no, I don't. Have you ever been married? Is that why you avoid marriage now?"

E: "No, never. I just don't like living with other people. I spend a lot of time alone."

S: "Do you have pets?"

E: "YES! I have Arnold - he's a Ball Python. He's an Enchi Albino. Not dangerous and quite docile."

S: "You have a snake for a pet and you don't want to live with anyone else. Do I have that right?"

E: "Yes, that's just me. I'm a loner."

S: "So why, Eric, did you agree to come out on a blind date? What were you hoping to achieve?"

E: "I really don't know. Kristi said she'd make it worth my while if I met up with you so I said I would and here I am."

S: "Just how is Kristi going to make it up to you?"

E: "She said I could use her cottage to hunt deer during the season this year."

S: "Did she mention that I'm vegetarian and belong to an animal rescue group?"

E: "I detect some disapproval in your tone, Stace."

S: "Don't call me Stace - we don't even know each other. Look, thanks for stopping by, but I really don't think that you and I have anything in common. Let's just say goodbye and wish each other well, ok, Eric? So long."

E: "Goodbye then, I wish you well. Are you going to finish that pastry?"

S: "Eat it, Eric. Just eat it. Hasta nunca."

_______________________________________

 ©Ellen Pepper 2025

 

Sam's Son

by Ellen Pepper

Standing here at the edge of the precipice
contemplating the length of time it would take my body
to hit the river far, far below.
Such a blisteringly hot and sunny day.
I wonder what keeps me from jumping.

I have a new baby,
a son,
I am a Dad now.
He won't let us sleep
two months he's been crying,
protesting his birth.
I am tired unto death.
And I worry,
Telling me to stop worrying is like
 telling sand to become a tree.

Imagine, just imagine
if I accidentally fell over the edge.
Imagine.

I wake up gasping.
Was that a dream
or just the sound of thunder.

Again, I stare into the abyss,
Calculating how long it would take,
Falling into the void
Wind whistling in my ears,
Would time slow down
as it often does during consequential events?
What would kill me -
the fear stopping my heart
or the...

Would I drown first or
would the
splattering of my body into a billion pieces as
I smash into the savage rocks in the water end me?

Again, I wake gasping and sweaty.
The kid is squalling,
the mother goes to him.

Ah, here I stand again,
One stumble and I am free.
Let me just get closer.
Oh! The edge gave way.
I fall.
I fear.
The wind is cold.
I'm tumbling over in the air.
Such a long way down.
Time stretches out.
I cannot breathe.

The water reaches up to me,
coming closer,
This is the end of...



©Ellen Pepper 2025

Message from a Stranger

 

Message from a Stranger

by Ellen Pepper

Hi there! I'm John Williams and I live in Sudbury.
I've been reading your posts and I'd like to meet you.
You're so funny and smart and your avatar is hot!
I'm not married or anything. No kids.
How would you like to meet for coffee?
________________

Hi again! It's me, John.
You haven't replied. Have I said the wrong thing?
It would be great if you could send me some pix of yourself.
Just doing normal things like washing dishes or bathing.
Nudes would be really nice. I could send you some, too.
By the way, I drive a Subaru!

______________________________

Hi! Still waiting for your reply. It's been a few days.
I'm pretty rich, you know.
Everyone who knows me says that I'm a nice guy.
I could show you a really good time.
Let's start by meeting at a cafe?
_________________________________________

It's me, John again.
Okay, I wasn't completely honest when I said I'm single.
I've kinda been married for 17 years.
3 kids - all teenagers.
I have a dog. He only has 3 legs now due to the accident with the lawn mower. I thought it was turned off.

Look, my wife doesn't understand me.
And she's gotten fat and sloppy since we met.
We haven't had sex in 8 years.
I don't think she'd mind if I took my sex needs elsewhere.
Ok, I don't have a Subaru - I drive a Kia.
So, how about it? Want to meet up?
___________________________________
Hi, it's me, John.
Yes, you blocked my other account so I had to make this new one to ask you why you blocked me?
I've been open and aboveboard with you.
The least you could do is hear me out.

Ok, I'm not rich. I'm not married.
I'm in Kingston jail and will be for 12 more years.
They say I killed 8 women but that's a lie.
Those women died of natural causes.
I'm a nice guy, everyone knows that.

I'm allowed visitors. You could stop by some time.
Ok, my name is not John Williams.
It's Thomas Bledsloe.
I used to be a welder.
It's lonely in here.
Please don't block me again.
_____________________________________________

 ©Ellen Pepper 2025

 

Not Tied to the Whipping Post

by Ellen Pepper 

"Sorry, I've got no energy to tie you to the whipping post."
That's what I said after a hard day at the grocery stores.
"You'll have to punish yourself, no need to boast.
The clamps and zipties are in your set of drawers."

Just getting there had its lows,
with my Hollywood hairstyle all askew - 
 the wind gusting through the truck's open windows.
I entered a store looking like a shrew.

The produce at the first store was moldy and soggy.
The prices obscene; the staff were friendly.
The aisles were clean and some shelves were empty. 
The meat smelled of manure, the cheap steaks were $35.

The cheese was on sale, if you like the blue growth.
The yogurt, out of date a month ago, but
Tortillas were even older and quite tough to the touch.
The staff were friendly, though.

A short wait for a cashier 
who evidently was deafened since the last visit.
She was friendly enough, though.
Just emotionally distant.

The second store is for the well-to-do,
So prices are hilariously over the top.
A pint box of Mexican strawberries only $9.99
A sterling silver steak at $72.

All of the stores are humongously large.
So much walking is involved,
That I don't have to exercise at home.
And that's a saving grace.

At home, the putting away begins,
And ends about an hour later,
with chickens bagged and frozen.
And everything in its place.

"So no, honey, 
Not in the mood to rhyme this song.
I'm just too tired to kick you in the balls tonight. 
You go on and amuse yourself, oh, and
Sweetie? Can you peel me a grape?"



©Ellen Pepper 2025

Elegy for a Quiet Man

 

Elegy for a Quiet Man

Farewell, George NoMan.

by Ellen Pepper

He spake righteously,
if he spake at all.
How the plethora of charmed women
hung on his every word,
albeit few and far between they were.

His bristling black sideburns will no longer impress
the ladies who swooned.
His stately manner of dress decaying,
forgotten in his musty cupboard.

George NoMan is gone from this plane.
His like to be seen no more.
A quiet man, cards held close to vest.
Saying not an extraneous word.

No one can claim to have known old George.
He kept to himself. He liked it that way.
No ties that bound 'til life was snuffed.
No joys that taught of impending sorrow.

George had no animal companion.
He preferred to be alone.
No one to care for.
No one to care for him.

He spent his days creating,
A stockpile of witticisms
to share at arms length.
Not wishing for fame, not prideful.

So now we lay dear George to rest.
His mouth silent forever.
So many secrets kept within.
So many lies untold.

Our beloved George is NoMan,
   for the nonce - he is but a fucking ghost.

Requiescat in Pace

©Ellen Pepper 2025

 

Who Dares Wins

Qui audet adipiscitur

 by Ellen Pepper


Spring rain pounding on a slanted roof.
Wind causing walls to strain against it.
Water pooling on the kitchen floor -
The window left open a welcome bit.

A peculiar man with pecuniary leanings
Determines his nut for the night.
A candle burns low on the wooden table.
His hat nearby on a rough-hewn chair.

An apron-clad woman ladles stew
 into crockery as old and cracked
as her face.
Places it gently near the man
and leaves the room.

Tonight, he must break free.
He must pack swiftly and depart.
He must somehow earn fare,
And board the last train for Marseille.

His Alsatian waits at the door.
Does not want to be left behind.
He will remain at home with the woman.
The man may not return this time.

Now, standing under the window
of his wealthy neighbour, that man has a plan.
Seeing the family within bickering and squabbling,
He knocks at the door.

"Hello, my neighbours! How goes your night?
I've come to bring peace for a small fee."
Invited in, he sets himself near the fire.
The master of the house waits patiently.

"It seems there's a point of contention here tonight.
I can easily determine who is wrong
and who is right, if you would only
Give me one thread to unravel this perplexity."

The family confer. One voice speaks, then another.
Then all speak at once. Cacophony results.
The mystical man begins to sing a lullaby.
And as minutes pass, the shouting dissipates.

"The issue is resolved to my delight.
 It's plain to see that the Master is in the right.
He knows the ways of the world and
wants only the best for his clan."

"And now, forsooth, I must be off.
I've a train to catch and I'll need the fare."
The fee presented and he's at the door.
"Thank you good sir, you're noble, I swear."

 Qui audet adipiscitur  

©Ellen Pepper 2025

Je ne regrette pas

 

 Je ne regrette pas

by Ellen Pepper


Do not regret the loss of winter.
It splayed itself across the landscape for a time.
That icy stillness swathed in snowflakes
Had its moments, its fine apparel.

Do not regret the fleeting passage of time.
At once speedy or sluggish,
depending on perspective.
But passing just the same.

Do not regret encounters with the brave and bold.
Nor those with terrors and too craven
to save themselves.
The many issues they present, so little time in hold.

Do not regret dancing alone in the dark
under the maple tree.
Nobody saw you. Nobody knows.
Do it again - touch the bark.

After all, what is regret?
Loss and sorrow are in the mind.
Some say also in the heart but...
Evading the big "what if?" skips past regret.

I do not regret.
 Je ne regrette pas.
I witness the moments,
Je suis témoin des moments,
Sort them into memories,
Triez-les en souvenirs,
And continue strolling through.
Et continuez à flâner. 

Insouciant.

 

 ©Ellen Pepper 2025

Tick Tick Tock

by Ellen Pepper

Tick tick tick...

A drunken worker laughingly claims that he's ok
as he drives his machine into a ditch.
Dismounts and topples over into the muck.
Nobody recorded it. It won't go viral.

Tick tock tick.

Leaves are unfurling all around.
Birds are nesting.
Animals breed.
The greening ground is slick with rain.

Tick tick tick

A women on a treadmill feels pain,
Chest, neck, jaw.
Wonders if the heart is attacking.
Decides it's too complicated
to ask for help.

Tick tick tock

An old man still abed at noon.
No movement or sound.
No snore or audible breath.
Suddenly, a foot shifts.
He's still alive.

Tick tick tock.

Time is not like a river.
Time is a collected series of events.
Vignettes.
What was once... and will never be again.


 ©Ellen Pepper 2025

Your Boots

Your Boots

by Ellen Pepper

Put your boots under my table.
Let us feast on groats and wine.
Some cherries and a roasted beast.
Hours of reminiscences and fables, secrets and lies.
The fireplace alive with crackling and flickering flames.
The old shaggy dog at your feet,
alert to your surreptitious shares.

And your songs. The soundtrack of our lives.
You play your guitar and we harmonize.
From the pining of adolescence to the pains of parenthood.
The mellowing of passing years and the ultimate decrepitude.

Now the young ones stoke the fire,
prepare and serve the feast.
They hear the epic tales,
They'll pass them on in turn.

We sit and nod in rocking chairs near the fire now.
The ancient dog beside your boots, basking in the warm.
These creaking bones call time on the night.
There's hope that when tomorrow comes
we'll still be here.
 Together.

©Ellen Pepper 2025

Avoiding Mirrors

 

 

 

 

 

 

Avoiding Mirrors

by Ellen Pepper

Forgive the human inside your bubble of self.
You had no way to see how powerful your death stare was,
Until, of course, it slayed its victims.
You didn't mean to cause harm.
It was merely collateral damage.

When looking into a mirror, you are endangered.
You can also destroy yourself with that harsh judging glance.
Nobody is immune.

You raconteur.
You charmer.
You magician.
You inventor, creator of worlds.

You bring in the adoring crowds.
They want to be close,
to absorb and reflect your charisma.
Your left-handed wit enthralls them.
It's a fine snack.

They'll never be invited to a feast, though.
Only crumbs from the bountiful table at which you dine alone,
Smug and self-satisfied.
You have what you need and can always get more.
There is a world of opportunity waiting for you.

Who wouldn't envy your grace and charm?
Who wouldn't yearn to be your Favoured One?
Who do you see when you look into that mirror?
An angel, a demon, or... a human?

There are some who walk alone because they must.
There are some who walk alone because they trust
that they're better off being a human alone
 inside their sphere of safety
than to suffer the sling and arrows of intolerable fortune.
It's easier to forgive yourself when nothing more can harm you.

You're safe now
And at peace.
Enjoy yourself
It's sooner than you think.

©Ellen Pepper 2025