Dikileaks!

Yes, she was generally happy she was widowed and old. Shaz, as she was affectionately known, believed her grey hair was the new blonde. She could frock up all right. She was looking forward in her golden years, to her latest epic adventure. At that moment, Shaz was putting the final touches to her latest craft project.

Shaz did believe in expanding her social circle, so she had joined a local craft center in her community. A visiting tutor from Canada had lectured the good ole girls in the noble art of doll head crafting. Shaz felt inspired by her creative muse. Sourcing the recommended old time porcelain dolls from local opportunity shops, she took a boot load of someone's beloved treasures home.

This was to be Shaz greatest moment of developing a new art form her own way. Shaz was that sort of age, that her late father used to chop firewood for the family's wood burning log fireplace. She had kept his axes all those years, a hewer's daughter. Now was the perfect opportunity to practice her chopping skills.

Years before, she and her sisters had stood admiring their father at the woodpile. He had always warned them to stand back, dodge incoming wood chips, and snakes in the heap of kindling. Good, sound advice. Not particularly deep and meaningful, but an apt guide to their future. Dodge those snakes in the heap of life!

So Shaz swung her ax, which had been carefully polished and wrapped in its cloth covers. Off with their heads. It was all quite cathartic. Having chopped off the heads of these dollies. Shaz then took their wigs off, using glue solvents. Then she hefted her trusty ax, and chopped off the tops of their heads.

What to do with headless porcelain doll remnants? Quire a good query, she would solve that another day. Into the cupboard under the sink, went headless doll bodies, their wigs, and the tops of their heads. Bizarre, but, hey, this was art!

Shaz arose the next morning, following her muse. Must look forward and be creative. It was cool, really, how Shaz glued the dollies' eyes permanently open. Then she filled their heads with her purchased soil mix, and planted an array of green vegetation. Stepping back, she admired such spontaneity. She had totally done doll head art! What was next?

Her phone chimed. It was her other new fad of online dating. Yes, winner. Someone had swiped her on her dating website. She hoped it might be a love match, full of repartee, and senior companionship. She eyed off her hopeful suitor. His name was Dwayne, or was it?

Shaz thoughtfully read his profile, searching for common interests. Maybe he was genuine,. Dwayne had really fallen in love with her photo online. Drinking her coffee, she did a happy dance, unshapely hips slightly waddling. Deciding this single life was full of adventures before dementia, silver single Shaz suggested a neutral coffee shop in the early afternoon, for their first date!

So exciting, perhaps this time she would get lucky. "Let's face it," thought Shaz." that husband of mine was a total prick, Dirk." No turning back now, she had to focus on her strengths. The doll heads artfully displayed around her home on every surface did not blink. Shaz tried on half her clothes, seeking the perfect 'look.' This could be her one, a soul mate for senior sparks, a relationship, maybe the big "R".

Shaz was a bit rusty on meeting and greeting strange men, so she asked her lifehack online. Safe topics to discuss on first dates are music, cars, sports, food, jobs and hobbies. Stay away from whinging about exes. "Right!" agreed Shaz, "Nostalgia ain't what it used to be."

Flicking her hair, Shaz was there at the appointed hour. Her wrinkled lips were enhanced by a tinch of lipstick in the manner which was normal for her age group. No senior lady ever went anywhere without lipstick and a spritz of perfume. They had been brought up.

Enter Dwayne. "How lovely to meet you!" He kissed her on the lips, bold as brass. Despite herself, Shaz felt sparks. "I must keep an open mind," she told herself, thinking, "Good kisser, eye candy man."

Soon their chat took place, meet and greet. Happy coffee, a cake, Dwayne and Shaz were soon agreeing that their generation had the best of music, with sensitive lyrics like do-wa-diddy-dum-diddy-do, and ob-la-di-ob-la-do. They did concur that the sensory deprived millennials had never had such grand heights of English lit to guide them through their future. Further, Dwayne could only empathize that the young men looked like girls, their music was total trash, and their poetry was gibberish.

Shaz's conversational skills were flowing. Dwayne was temporarily unemployed, she was a widow of independent means. He suggested they continue their rapport in the bar next door. Taking her by the hand, he led her there, sparks of attraction ablaze. She was making an effort, but not much of a drinker. The couple were soon necking chardonnays, eyeing each other off as the sunset surrounded them surrounded them through the bar's picture window.

Dwayne was the blip among quick online daters, and he knew it. Unfortunately, Shaz led him home on the first date, to her not so humble pad. Dwayne entered her home, intent on his needs. There, the doll heads gazed, seeming to see inside his not so good intentions. "Weird dolls!" he remarked, as Shaz found her senses. Still, Dwayne was a player, he knew a wealthy woman, bit gullible, when he met her. "I find you very attractive, Shaz," he said, as he went for the grope.

Shaz, despite the wine, put up her red flag indicators. "Not on our first date!" Dwayne kissed her again. From her old lady's large black handbag, she drew forth her can of pepper spray, which her empowered older sister had given her. Shaz did not want to trip up trouble, so she chased Dwayne away, past the doll heads, all the way down her front stairs. Christian women really know how to swear. Dwayne ran back to his car, "But, Shaz, I love you!"

"Yeah, right!" Shaz muttered, returning to the sleepless dolls, their eyes glued open in amazement, like some modern apache totems. Her phone chimed. "Not Dwayne again. No means no!" What did he text? "I forgive you. Here is your nightcap." On no, Dwayne had sent Shaz his dick photo. She laughed, helplessly. "Call that a dick. I could do better myself!"

It must be said that Dwayne had no common sense at all. He and Shaz were both characters in this one-act charade. Being one of the survivors of life, Shaz could not resist hitting her share button on the entire dating website, with a neat caption, "Dwayne is a total prick!" Then she deleted her dating account and profile.

This was soon a suburban scandal on the website, a viral social media favorite. Everyone was swiping left on Dwayne's dick photo, and kept on sharing Shaz's feedback on this stud. Giggles ensued, the newspapers published details. No one knew who the original sharer of dikileaks had been. Dwayne had to wear his bad reputation, he remained single, unlovable.

There was nothing to present in a court of law. Shaz had dodged going from the frying pan to the fire. Her sisters always had her back. She resolved to pursue something more creative than dick photos of silver seniors. She had smashed it, like the porcelain dolls. Their eyes had not blinked, but had found Dwayne, eye candy man, definitely lacking. Never mind, her new herbal gardens in the doll heads grew lovely. Cool to be creative, as Shaz looked forward, with no turning back, still ever cautious of the snakes in the woodheap of life.