Radio Edit

Indie Ink time.  This week's installment is a bit more mellow and somber, compared to my usual wit and sarcasm.  I hope you like it. 

When first challenged with this prompt, I was baffled.  At a BBQ with my friends the other night, I went so far as to say that I had no idea what to write about because I don’t like boys and I don’t like summer.  I gave it some thought, though, and mulled it over during down time at work, and this is what I came up with.

I can see you

I can see you, in my head, when I close my eyes.  I don’t see the real you anymore, though; I see the still-life, beautiful version of you, without any flaws or imperfections, or any sign that you once were sad and human.  I see you smiling a big, goofy grin that didn’t make many appearances in life, but they punctuate my memories of you.  You’re immortal now, in my eyes.

your brown skin shining in the sun

…always irritated me.  You turned so dark during the summer that people confused you with a latina woman. You AND Jacquie.  I always tried (and failed) to maintain a tan like yours, which is probably why I identified more with my Irish side.  I was jealous.  You could sit outside for twenty minutes and be sun kissed, where as I could sit outside for twenty minutes and need ice packs for my blistered legs.  Especially for your wedding to Roger, when I was wearing my strapless bride’s maid dress with racer back sun burn lines that you tried to “blend” with blush.

You’ve got your hair pulled back

… which was rare.  The only times I ever remember you pulling your hair back was when you used to use a scrunchy from the 80’s. 

Dad gave me the good hair, while you and Jacquie had the mousy brown hair that didn’t really do anything.  You tried everything, from cutting it short, growing it long,  bleaching it blonde, going red, and getting a horrible perm.  Your hair was always a hot mess.  I know you would admit this if you were here. 

You always liked my hair, even when it was a “rat’s nest”.  You’d always braid it if I wanted pigtails, and you’d straighten it for me when I’d get too frustrated to deal with it. 

and your sunglasses on

Sunglasses were never your thing, but when you did wear them, they had to be blue blockers.  God forbid you didn’t have them.  Any other type was just junk.  Maybe that’s why I can only settle for Aviators?  I never realized that it might have been from you. 

You would much rather rock the beret, the dickie under your shirts, and a pair of shorts over your leggings, because you needed pockets for your cigarettes and phone, no matter how many times I begged you to stop wearing them.  You were always you, even when faced with adversity.  You always remained true to yourself, a person who, as said by your husband, always marched to the beat of her own drummer.  I hope that I can be as strong as you were. 

I can tell you my love for you will still be strong

We had more than enough fights, arguments, and disagreements.  I regret that.  I know you would have forgiven me long before I would you.  I didn’t say I love you enough, and not because I didn’t, but because I felt to withhold it was punishment.  I love you.  You know how I know for sure?  Because even after all the bullshit, the nightmares that were both of our lives, I still ache to be able to call you and know that you’ll pick up on the other end… that I won’t be listening to “Don’t Stop Believin’” for eternity, and being mocked for doubting whether or not you’re still here.  I love you, and my love for you has grown stronger for every single day.

after the boys of summer have gone.

You would have enjoyed this, mom.  You loved abusing song lyrics into daily conversation.  I hope I’ve made you proud.  I hope, wherever you are, that you’re singing loudly, hopefully on key, and that they’ve got your microphone plugged in and fully charged. 

I love you.

***

The prompt was given by Transplantedx3 ("the boys of summer..."), while I challenged Head Ant, who rocked it here.

Also, I feel that since I remembered to add the prompt this week, I should get a gold star... just sayin'. 

Remember the nights...

{Remember the time that we sat outside Lisa's house, after a home cooked meal, some drinks, some laughs, and some smores.}

{I'm pretty sure the makers of Yellowtail didn't imagine this when they were making such a delicious bouquet of wine down under.  Yes, I did drink my wine out of a plastic cup, and through a straw.  We're a classy bunch.}

Really great friends <3 

{the light is on in the back because 1.) lisa is creeped out that she can't see in the dark, and 2.) because I was convinced there was a flying squirrel living in the tree behind the house, and kept the light on so we could watch it better.}

 {When I wondered what fire would look like in black and white.  Side note: Dani tried to tell me that the fire would be black and everything else would be white... clearly wine makes her think in Negative.}

{Photography by fire light.}

{My marshmellow stick was the best;  it was so long, I didn't even have to get out of my chair to roast!  Also, does eating the middle of the marsh mellow off the stick make me a fat kid?  Lisa, Dani, and I collectively voted 'no'.}

The Sky is Falling

Hey Peeps!  As you're all dying to know, its Indie Ink time again!  Hooray!  This week I was challenged by Miranda at My Eclectic Bookshelf, whose prompt will be at the end.  This prompt left me a jumbled mess, because first I knew what I was going to write about, and then, I didn't.  Then, I struggled some more and had a little help from Maid Marian and finally found myself back on track.  I hope you enjoy.  I challenged Trish, who postponed her breakdown to give us something fantastic. You can check her out here.

The Sky is Falling

We awoke together, a single mass of tangled, knotted limbs, lying in a puddle of rain. The smell of mildewing fabric permeated the air and my lungs as my body forced itself to breathe deeply.  We looked at each other, each trying to suppress a gasp, to disguise our surprise of what the other had become in the night. 

We were not written into a fairy tale; far from it, but really, who is?  She was covered in dirt, a few leaves twisted into her hair, and a spider bite marked her shoulder between two freckles.  I’m sure I looked no better; I could feel the layers of grime and film covering me like a second skin.  We were at that point, afterwards, where you feel dirty, and not in a good way.  You don’t want anyone to see you; you’re filthy, sticky, and sweaty, and you just want to cover yourself up or find the nearest shower.   

I can only vaguely recall the sound of the tent ripping… was it her foot, or mine, that tore the seam from the corner?  Was it before or after that second time?  That one was pretty wild. The tent was quite old, and her nails, long and sharp, were most likely responsible for the puncture marks in the sleeping bag, which collectively might explain the puddle. 

Considering everything, she was the most beautiful thing I had seen in days.  Also, quite possibly the funniest.  This girl, this woman, prided herself on being impeccably dressed, always to the nines, and she laid next to me as nothing short of a disaster. 

 All of a sudden, my constitution was shattered and I let everything go, shaking away the disaster that had been our lives the previous night.  As if a subconscious action, like breathing, I let out the most gut-busting, obnoxious laugh I’d ever heard myself make during my entire life.  “You look like Jane the Jungle Woman!’ I said, finally, as I inhaled a deep breath while trying to regain my composure. 

She glared at me, raised her eyebrow, and turned her eyes to bore straight into mine the way only a woman can while silently telling me that this was the inappropriate time.   In all honesty, she was probably right, but I don’t take social cues very well and I would rather laugh about situations outside of my control.  Apparently now wasn't the time to do anything but stay silent, wring out our lake-tent, pack up the car, and drive back to suburbia.
***
My prompt was: "You wake up lying in a puddle of rain... what are the events that lead up to this...".

Father's Day

A day like no other, where men get to be men and do all the things they enjoy: eating their favorite meals, getting control of the remote control, choosing the music in the car, and doing whatever they please.  Of course, this is NOT the case in my family, because I'm Princess Val and I make the rules. Duh.

Since I was taking charge, I decided that we were going to do Father's Day on Saturday, aka yesterday, because I had to work Sunday morning and wasn't sure if I was going to be able to see him.  I made plans to meet up with him at noon, knowing that he was going to hate it no matter what time I showed up.  This is important to note: my father is HORRIBLE with gifts, and really, celebrations of any kind.  His birthday is in the summer and it takes him about six months to open birthday gifts, right in time for x-mas, which is practically the same deal... So, I knew that it was going to be rough, like it is every year... I was NOT expecting this, though...

I was on my way to his house, going to show up for 12:30pm, since I knew he wasn't going to be ready for me at twelve... but he called me while I was on the way and told me that he was going to the store to pick up fly-catching strips... because the carport* is filled with disgusting, buzzing flies**.  I meet him at the house, presents and (unsigned) card in hand, and he looks at me like he has no idea what day is it, or what these are for.  I went in, put the gifts*** on his desk and went out to the dining room to sign the card.  He came out and I made a big deal of putting my hand over the card, like, don't read it while I'm still writing!! He said I'm not looking at it to which I replied good, because I'm not done writing it yet and which he said if you didn't want me to see it, you could have mailed it to me. 

I said to him, why the hell would I mail it if I was going to see you?  He said it'd have been nice to get something in the mail.  Oh, okay. Fine. Next year, no gifts, just a letter in the mail.

Anyway, the rest of a long story short, Dad made me wait about an hour and a half for him to open presents, because he avoids them like the plague, and instead made me sit and watch him clean out my deceased grandfather's clothes from the closets, while he decided which were garbage, and which were goodwill... Poppy's been gone since 2006.  I guess it was really imperative that it got done this weekend... Go Figure.

We had a really great day after all that nonsense, in all honesty.  We went bowling and had a lot of laughs.  (I won the first game, which we all know is the only one that really counts.)  Then we went to dinner at Friday's and stuffed ourselves on Jack Daniels' Chicken.  Yum.

I love my dad... he's hilarious, and I am grateful for all the things he's given me... especially his sense of humor, his height, and his charm.  I love him for the fact that when I took pictures of him bowling, he told me not to post these on facebook, or put them on my blog, whatever that is... but that's not the Princess Val way, is it? Nope.

*Carport is a term for an enclosed area off the house, which could otherwise be called a porch but it is not raised, it is the same level as the house.
** I am ridiculously afraid of things that fly.
*** Two books on the NY Mets, his favorite baseball team.

No Good Deed

Peeps!  Indie Ink time is SO exciting! 

I was challenged by Jason, who must really *get* me, because he gave me a challenge right up my alley. I admit, I was not familiar with the story when I received my challenge, but after reading and digesting, I was committed!  His prompt will be at the end. 

I challenged Michael, who always does a spectacular job.  Please check out his response to "Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't" *here*.

and now, drum roll, please... maestro?... places! 

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

I’m tired.

I’m hungry.

I’m homeless.

It didn’t used to be this way, I swear.  I used to have a great job.  I paid my dues to the king.  I worked hard, and played harder, but took my responsibilities seriously.  I tried to make the Mrs. happy.  I wanted to have a big family and be the man of the house, the breadwinner.  I wanted to have it all. 

 I don’t really know what happened, but all of a sudden, things were just on a downward spiral, and I couldn’t do anything but watch myself fall.  I tried.  God, did I try, but there was nothing I could do, no hand holds to grab as I fell to “rock bottom”.

 Here I am, now, trapped by cruel, cruel fate.

Rather than my ‘castle’, I’m under a bridge.  Rather than sleeping on a comfortable mattress, I’m in the dirt with the bugs and the creepy crawlies.  I’m not the coolest, the funniest, or the brightest, but I tried damn hard… and it got me here.

Trip. Trap.Trip. Trap.

Oh, Jesus.  What do they want now? “Who’s that trippin’ over my bridge?” 

“Oh, it is only I, the littlest Billy Goat Gruff… and I am going up the hill to make myself fat.”

What the eff?  No. This isn’t real, is it? Did this puny little thing actually tell me he’s going to make himself fat?

“Now I’m coming to gobble you up!” I say, more out of spite and scorn rather than hunger.  Hopefully I can scare this pipsqueak out of here…

“I’m too little… wait until the second Billy Goat Gruff comes along.”

This little thing just sold out his family to save himself!  Get the hell out of here.  I would never do that to my family; I chose to be homeless to save them.  What a loser.

“Fine, be off with you.”  Good Riddance, creep.

Trip. Trap. Trip. Trap.

Here comes the second one…. I wonder what this one’s excuse is going to be? I’m sure it’ll be something like “wahhh I’m too smart to be eaten,” or some bullshit like that.

“Oh no, it is only I, the second Billy Goat Gruff, going up the hill to make myself fat.”

“I’m going to gobble you up!”

“Oh no, don’t do that!  Wait for the Biggest Billy Goat Gruff to come along!”

Whatever. “Be gone with you.”

 I can’t deal with this… I really don’t want to eat this one OR the biggest one, I just want some peace and quiet.  I want some time to plan my next move, to figure out which way is up and start heading in that direction.

Trip. Trap. Trip. Trap.

OK, here I go. “Who’s that trippin’ across my bridge?” I almost roar this, hoping that my tone will make me feared and respected. 

“It is I, the big Billy Goat Gruff,” he says, with bravado.

“I’m coming to gobble you up!” I say, and when I hear his response, I feel provoked.

“Well, come along! I've got two spears, and I'll poke your eyeballs out at your ears; I've got besides two curling-stones, and I'll crush you to bits, body and bone.”

‘Not a chance in hell,’ I think to myself.  I’m a troll.  I am a force to be reckoned with!  I make my way to the top of the bridge, and push out my teeth, and snarl like I’ve never snarled before, but… he was huge.  It’s all over.

***

Mild Applause Please

My prompt was to retell the tale of the Three Billy Goats Gruff from the Troll's perspective.  Thanks for stopping in.
-Sunshine

Dun da da Dun!

Peeps - This is my 50th post.

I feel like that is a nice, round number, and one in which we should celebrate.  In 50 posts, I've made a lot of new friends, gotten out a lot of my random thoughts, and started writing again, with purpose.

As I was blog-stalking and lurking, like my usual self, I came upon this.  (I didn't really just "come upon this" to be honest, she's in my blogroll, and she's absolutely wonderful.)  I thought that it was pertinent to how I was feeling tonight.

My apologies to the poet, if I do this injustice by repeating it, but I am going to give her as much credit and love as I can.  Marian, my favorite Massachusetts poet, thank you for this :)

Bright Star

gimme some rainbows
spontaneous dancing
commemorating just
how far we've come

encourage plentiful
frantic celebration
cheering & freedom
trust & yeah, love

i'll be a happy poet.

HAPPY 50th POST TO ME!!! AND ALL OF YOU FOR READING THEM! <3
-Sunshine

Marian can be found at http://www.runawaysentence.com OR just click on the link in her name above.

La vie de Milo

Indie Ink Time! I love writing for this challenge.  I admit, I sit in anticipation all day Saturday wondering who and what my challenge is going to be... I love it!  I was challenged by Dee, whose prompt will be at the end.  I, in turn, challenged Gehan who will write a story using one of the lines from his favorite song.  Be sure to check out his response.  Anyway, on with the show!

***

"La vie de Milo"

The last time we met, I’ll admit, we didn’t meet on such pleasant terms.  In short, I was having a horrible day.  I thought my fun, amazing, adventurous day out was going to be this great thing, but in actuality, it was a disaster.  I was stung by a bee, taken to the vegetarian, and got sick all over a Mini Cooper.  It was horrible. 

Since then, I’ve been re-cooperating at home.  My people have been treating me really nicely, buying me new treats, rubbing my stomach for a while, and keeping the cold air coming out of those gate things in the wall.  That last one is a life-saver let me assure you.  I’ve got a permanent fur coat; it’s not cool -literally.  So, anyway, I’ve been trying to keep a low profile, mainly in hopes the nice treatment from my people will continue, but also because I’m back in Prince Milo mode.

Prince Milo, I really love the sound of that.  It has a certain je n’ai sais quoi. Maybe I was once bred for the royal treatment?  I’d like to think so.  I’d lay upon a pillow, the windows wide open, fresh catnip being left around the room… oh, I forgot, I should keep this PG.  Ex-nay on the catnip-ay.

There was a slight discrepancy in the simple life of yours truly:  invasion.

I know what you’re thinking… Milo, what kind of invasion?! How could this happen to you?  Well, I’ll tell you. It was traumatizing!

Apparently, my people are part of this thing called a “family”.  These strange people who sort of smell like MY people came into my home and invaded my territory!  Bad enough that I have to share with the friggin’ dog, but these people?  Completely unnecessary!

(By the way, the dog and I have been getting along famously… I keep knocking shit over when my people aren’t home, and they keep blaming the dog. Milo +37, Levi - 0.  Sucker.)

Last night, however, these strange smelling people entered into my domain and brought in a spy.  I almost had to have words with my people, but I realized that they’re not nearly on my level, and the conversation would never get anywhere.  However, I could try to rationalize with this gigantic monstrosity that had come in to rule my roost. 

I wanted to kick this intruder out of my dominion, but, alas, my people had closed the front door. 

My dog, my Levi, tried to do the right thing by introducing herself to Enormous, but he was having none of it.  Actually, it was pretty sad to watch, because, unlike me, this new beast wasn’t nearly at all nice to Levi.  He snapped at her when she tried to sniff his butt, which I can only assume is a goodwill gesture of ‘Hello’ in the canine world, as I’ve seen her pull this trick a lot.  (Usually she has better luck with it, though.)

She’s a good dog, and a good companion; we don’t speak the same language, so she’s quiet, and we don’t eat the same food, so she can’t steal from me.  All in all, our relationship is quite balanced.  Seeing her being mistreated by Dumbo, on the other hand, was actually pretty painful to watch.   No one messes with my plaything and gets away with it!

I came up with a plan, and watched as it slowly unfolded itself into play.  I figure, to get the stranger dog out of the house, I’m going to need him to piss off the people, so when Levi gets snubbed one more time, I’m going to sneak up behind it.  

Alright, here’s my moment.  There goes Levi, looking all pathetic, and trying to cuddle up to the new guy… oh, and there’s the snub.  Did he just bite at her? Oh no. No no no, that won’t do at all.  As soon as Levi scooted out of the way, I took my first claw and swiped it across Brutus’ butt.  It worked even better than I’d imagined! He was totally taken by surprise and took off into the Peoples’ room… and then managed to knock his fast ass into the ‘mom’, making her spill her drink! Oh, this is excellent.  I wish you could see this!

‘Mom’ told ‘Dad’ to get rid of the strange beast, and made his people take him outside by the collar!  Levi, slightly recovered from her disparaging moment, had her nosed pressed to the window, waiting in anticipation to see whether or not the mystery beast would come back… but when Levi lost interest and left her place, I moseyed over to the window.

I jumped onto the sill and wrapped my tail around my legs.  I am Prince Milo, after all.

I looked out the window to the spy who bored me, and I said… “et tu, Brute? Shove it up your derriere.”

No one messes with my play thing and gets away with it.

***
"Et tu, Brute?"


Merci beaucoup, mon amies.  Tu et tres magnifique!

This is not a post... I repeat

This is merely a "props to me" address for everyone to see...

Today is 5 Months Cigarette Free!!!

Giggle Button!

Ladies and Gents, Peeps, Kids... Whomever you are and whatever you choose to answer to... something amazing has happened....

I made it to the GIGGLE BUTTON!



::swoon::
::blush::
::jump up and down and giggle like said button describes::

Yes, that's right. I made the giggle button.  Someone recommended me to  Jumble Mash to be her random blog on the giggle button... For those of you who don't know, this is FANTASTIC and AWE-INSPIRING.

I might have to stop this post here, regroup, and come back... for those of you who are new, welcome! Read your way into my life, follow me, and comments are more than welcomed, they're almost necessary to my functioning as a semi-normal human being.

::going to regroup:::

Accosted

I am angry, and I'll tell you why.

Today is my day off, and, naturally, I tried to run some errands.  I picked up my paycheck, I went to the bank to cash it, and my final stop was the grocery store to pick up some odds 'n ends.  (I'd normally go to CVS or some other drug-store-esque place, but I didn't want to drive 15 minutes further than my house.)

After showing up to the grocery store, I found that I have issues.  Maybe you most loyal followers (and the other peeps who aren't YET following me *hem hem*) can identify with these few issues that I realized bother me so...

*Why are the razor blades ALWAYS locked up in the aisle?  
Seriously, I'm starting to get annoyed about this.  I understand that this is a counter-measure against domestic terror, aka snot-nosed fourteen year old rugrats who probably aren't old enough to shave, let alone have $ of their own, but let's get real.  If my Shick Quattro for Women razor refills are so scandalous, just have them behind the counter, so I can get them quickly and move on.  I don't want to have to go to the aisle, figure out which are mine, leave the aisle, find an employee who is NOT going to be happy that I am asking him/her to move from their designated lean-spot, and drag them to use a fucking magnet-like key to pop the piece of plastic from the left to the right, just to go back to their lean-spot once more and talk shit about me because I made them do their job.  Plus, the locks are very misleading, so you don't actually know that their locked up until you get there and try to pull them down and put them in your cart/basket.

*Why must I get accosted for money outside of the grocery store?
It never fails.  I pull up to the store to try and get the stuff I need, and there are about 35 little boys or girls in uniform with cans a la holes in the top, and fliers about what kind of thing they're going to do with MY hard-earned money.  I can't even walk into the building without someone drooling on my shoe and shoving a can in my face, begging for my change.  No, I don't want to give my change to you.  If I wanted to, I would come over and give it to you voluntarily.  What happened to the good-old days where the boy scouts and girl scouts would do stuff to earn the money... like sell cookies, or bake sales, or some other disguised-bullshit-ritual like that?  Why do they think it's okay to just ask for the money without providing a service?  I provide a service (making coffee) for my paycheck, so they should, too.  Miniature bullshit artists.

*Why do I have to pay a quarter to use a cart? 
That's just jerk-facery.

Grr!!!

Musings and Whatnot

Today marks June 1st.
I know this, because my cell phone told me.

Almost half of the year has gone by, and it made me think about some things that I'd like to get done, and proud of things that I have already accomplished this year.

Miss Amy (whose blog is quirky/funny, and who herself is quite endearing) inspired me a bit the other day with her "In May" post, which you can check out Here.  She wrapped up her month in a very succinct way, and made it seem, even if it wasn't, that she was mighty productive and got things done.  I think I am going to start something like this... because maybe it will make me feel more accomplished.

Things I Accomplished This Year:
-Quitting smoking.  Again.
Almost 5 months, and still going strong.
-Saved over $1,000 dollars in a savings account.
I'm super impressed that I could do this, because it's really hard for me to be able to put anything away, especially since I lost my job in April.
-Fulfilled my dream of being able to yell at the BINGO hall without getting accosted.
-Started writing again.
-Fell in love a little with Jack Johnson and Adele.

I feel like I should set some goals for June, but so far I'm not coming up with anything solid.  I think maybe my goal for June will be to set legit goals for July.  Yeah, that works.

End of the Rainbow

Hey, it's Indie Ink time again! Hooray!  

I had a great challenge given to me by Miranda whose prompt will be at the end.  This was a prompt to get some creative juices flowing without limiting me to a certain path, so thank you very much, madam. 
I, in turn, challenged Disease, whose response can be found Here.

"End of the Rainbow"

Ladies and gentlemen, I have excellent news.  I have finally had a breakthrough!

Sorry, my apologies.  I am Professor Mark Desjardin, and I have just discovered the most wonderful, exciting, pragmatically satisfying, oh, I’m getting ahead of myself.  I do that sometimes.  Let me fill you in on my past, so you’ll know the reason for my ecstatic outburst.  

I’ve spent the last three years studying, learning, researching a phenomenon so intense, dreams are created from it.  I have spent one thousand and ninety-five days slaved over data, scientific models, charts and graphs, waiting for the key to tie all the pieces together.  I have sacrificed holidays, birthdays, vacation, sick time, family bbqs, and celebrations to determine the complex ratios of water to light, and at what exact zenith the sun needs to be in to create the multicolored arc that appears *supposedly* at random. 

I have taken up the work of Rene Descartes from over three thousand years ago, studying optics and the ways that the human eye bends natural light.  I have studied the path and “life” of a rainbow, from beginning to end, and am on my way to finding what exactly one might find at the end.

You may think I’m foolish, and many would agree with you, but I will defend my findings to anyone at anytime.  I plan to publish my work when my journey is complete. 

As I stand now, I am outside of a rainforest in South America.  Through my research, I have determined that the sun’s zenith will allow for the two ends of a rainbow made today, appearing at 5 pm in the afternoon, in the middle of March, during a non-leap year, to be at both Prince Edward’s Island, Nova Scotia, and Bogota, Colombia, respectively.  Naturally, I chose to be in the country of Colombia, where a rainbow is more likely to be vivid, due to the humidity and the proximity to the sun. 

Naturally.

I have just finished walking four and a half miles to the determined destination of the end of the rainbow of the Spring Equinox.  I am a scientist.  I do not believe in luck; however, if I did, I would say that today was a good luck sort of day, seeing as the days are getting longer and the sun is out longer in the sky. 

Charles, my research assistant is positioned approximately 7 miles away, to determine when the rainbow is going to be at its brightest.  It is then that I can make it to the bottom of the rainbow, to see if it actually exists, and what I might find there. 

Alright, it’s go time. Charles has just radioed, and that is my cue.  I start walking, making my way through brush and mud.  I detest the creepy, crawly insects found in the rainforest, but it is a job hazard, unfortunately.  I am French; we are much too classy for “nature”.  We do not associate with insects. 

Finally, I was through the clearing!  I had, after my long and arduous journey through the thick, dense, towering structures built by Mother Nature, managed to find…

…nothing.  

The rainbow was gone.

Journey complete, and unsuccessful.

My prompt was: Write about seeing a rainbow, following it to the end and what you find there.