Tiffany
by
WilliamH
Tiffany?”
“Michael?”
We stare at one another, hardly knowing what to do besides breathe. I realize that the orange I had been judging has been squeezed into a pulp in my fist, the juices running down my fingers and dripping to the floor. Her knuckles, in turn, have turned white against the handlebars of the grocery cart she had been pushing.
“So.”
“So, how you’ve been.”
She looks like she’s going to be ill. I can’t blame her; my stomach is also beginning to twist, because I know what’s going to come next.
“Mommy, I don’t want apple juice, I want grape juice, so…”
He pauses, looking at his mother then at me. “Who’s this?”
“No one,” we say at the same time.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
March Challenge #2 (Word List)
Entries had to include all of the following either specifically or by implication - Fool, Chocolate, Nail gun, Face,Probable, Humour, Xenophobic, Charges, Soap, Ungulate.
The winner:
JCMontgomery
with
Home Schooled
Holding the nail gun made her feel powerful. Four charges of air later, her humor had improved. This was in contrast to the way she felt earlier; a fool for believing he could ever change. Completing her work, she showered with her favorite soap, the smell of which reminded her of strawberries and chocolate. How sweet those memories were, but tonight, she hoped to make them sweeter.
Soon, she heard Lenny returning from the garage. Like an ungulate on concrete he clod into the room and stopped when he saw her on the couch. Seeing her there, in her newly purchased negligee, he gulped, his xenophobic face betraying his feelings. It was as if he was staring at a complete stranger. This was the probable outcome she had hoped for as she knew his night out with the boys wasn’t going to happen. Not with four flat tires.
The winner:
JCMontgomery
with
Home Schooled
Holding the nail gun made her feel powerful. Four charges of air later, her humor had improved. This was in contrast to the way she felt earlier; a fool for believing he could ever change. Completing her work, she showered with her favorite soap, the smell of which reminded her of strawberries and chocolate. How sweet those memories were, but tonight, she hoped to make them sweeter.
Soon, she heard Lenny returning from the garage. Like an ungulate on concrete he clod into the room and stopped when he saw her on the couch. Seeing her there, in her newly purchased negligee, he gulped, his xenophobic face betraying his feelings. It was as if he was staring at a complete stranger. This was the probable outcome she had hoped for as she knew his night out with the boys wasn’t going to happen. Not with four flat tires.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
March Challenge #1 - Happily Ever After
Growing Up
by Leoni Venter
Once upon a time the world was mine. With a snap of my fingers it would appear. With a blink of my eye the sun would rise, with another, night would draw near.
My world was amazing; it could change in a wink from a spaceship to a schoolroom and then to a farm where sad-eyed ponies and cows and dogs would come at my call, great people all, to play the day away.
Then something went wrong. Other people came along and took over my world, and it refused to change when I tried. It became solid and boring and frighteningly real. And the days all go faster and never slow down; my world is on a downhill slope without brakes and there is only one ending.
So I comfort myself for the loss of this world with steadfast hope in that happily ever after.
by Leoni Venter
Once upon a time the world was mine. With a snap of my fingers it would appear. With a blink of my eye the sun would rise, with another, night would draw near.
My world was amazing; it could change in a wink from a spaceship to a schoolroom and then to a farm where sad-eyed ponies and cows and dogs would come at my call, great people all, to play the day away.
Then something went wrong. Other people came along and took over my world, and it refused to change when I tried. It became solid and boring and frighteningly real. And the days all go faster and never slow down; my world is on a downhill slope without brakes and there is only one ending.
So I comfort myself for the loss of this world with steadfast hope in that happily ever after.
Monday, March 31, 2008
February Abstract Challenge
Radiance
http://www.redbubble.com/people/natella2020/writing/672640-radiance
by Natella2020
http://www.redbubble.com/people/natella2020
Inspired by the image "Shades of Light" by Peepsmile
at Redbubble
Kicking at a mound of sand, I drearily awaited the torrents of rain that would soon flood the beach.
‘So much for inspiration,’ I thought to myself.
The menacing dark clouds masking the sun were already driving people away by the dozen. Only one plain, invisible writer remained.
‘Hmmm. I really need a metaphor for myself.’
I glimpsed a transparent, misshapen, uncolored rock on the ground, forlorn and half-buried. I picked it up, dusting the sand away.
‘Perfect.’
I watched the beam from the lighthouse across the harbor circle its way to where I stood. A swatch of light brushed across my hand.
Split-second contact…..Instant rainbow.
http://www.redbubble.com/people/natella2020/writing/672640-radiance
by Natella2020
http://www.redbubble.com/people/natella2020
Inspired by the image "Shades of Light" by Peepsmile
at Redbubble
Kicking at a mound of sand, I drearily awaited the torrents of rain that would soon flood the beach.
‘So much for inspiration,’ I thought to myself.
The menacing dark clouds masking the sun were already driving people away by the dozen. Only one plain, invisible writer remained.
‘Hmmm. I really need a metaphor for myself.’
I glimpsed a transparent, misshapen, uncolored rock on the ground, forlorn and half-buried. I picked it up, dusting the sand away.
‘Perfect.’
I watched the beam from the lighthouse across the harbor circle its way to where I stood. A swatch of light brushed across my hand.
Split-second contact…..Instant rainbow.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
January 2008 Challenge Winner
I Can See Them Moving
by Dwireland
http://www.redbubble.com/people/dwireland
I can see them moving.
They may think they are hidden by the woodland but without the greenery for cover on the trees they aren’t camouflaged too well. They dart from one hiding place to another, scurrying, glancing left and then right. A sudden burst of speed and they break cover to advance another few yards.
They believe I can’t see them or perhaps that I don’t care what they are up to but I have them in my sights. I can track them as they drag their treasures and hide them at the edge of the woodland. Small little treasures but the amount of them makes up for their size. So I keep watch on them as they scuttle to and fro. Forever watching for intrusions before burying their hoard.
Busy little squirrels and their acorns.
by Dwireland
http://www.redbubble.com/people/dwireland
I can see them moving.
They may think they are hidden by the woodland but without the greenery for cover on the trees they aren’t camouflaged too well. They dart from one hiding place to another, scurrying, glancing left and then right. A sudden burst of speed and they break cover to advance another few yards.
They believe I can’t see them or perhaps that I don’t care what they are up to but I have them in my sights. I can track them as they drag their treasures and hide them at the edge of the woodland. Small little treasures but the amount of them makes up for their size. So I keep watch on them as they scuttle to and fro. Forever watching for intrusions before burying their hoard.
Busy little squirrels and their acorns.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Twilight Zone Challenge (from 25-31 Dec 07)
Pull My Finger
by Danny/Tiddles
http://www.redbubble.com/people/danny/writing/525134-pull-my-finger
“Pull my finger” said dad
“No” replied the son
“Go on , it’s a surprise”
“Dad, I’m thirteen. It isn’t even funny anymore”
“Go on, humour your old man”
“NO”
“Come on for your dear old dad’s sake. It’s been brewin’ for a while”
The son knew he would never get to fully enjoy the television show he was watching unless he complied with this age old ritual.
The son took his father’s finger and in a moment of cheekiness decided to push instead of pull.
The last thing the son remembers of his father was the look of shock and pain seconds before he exploded.
by Danny/Tiddles
http://www.redbubble.com/people/danny/writing/525134-pull-my-finger
“Pull my finger” said dad
“No” replied the son
“Go on , it’s a surprise”
“Dad, I’m thirteen. It isn’t even funny anymore”
“Go on, humour your old man”
“NO”
“Come on for your dear old dad’s sake. It’s been brewin’ for a while”
The son knew he would never get to fully enjoy the television show he was watching unless he complied with this age old ritual.
The son took his father’s finger and in a moment of cheekiness decided to push instead of pull.
The last thing the son remembers of his father was the look of shock and pain seconds before he exploded.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
December Challenge winner
Angel's Share
by Bren
http://www.redbubble.com/people/bren
Because there was little, the smallest amount went to the one with the most generosity. And they were repaid with the gratitude of the others, some who meant it and some who didn’t. But that wasn’t why they did it.
The Giant in his garden, the poor woman in the temple.
The old woman who gave up her seat on the train today, for a rugby player with multiple injuries. The train shook her as she rose, and the commuters held back, visibly waiting to fall on the seat to see who could get the greatest share. She waved him over. Down he came, hobbling with his crutches and broken up face. People parting in front of him like Moses’ sea. I smelled sherry from her as I rose to give her my seat, feeling hungover, but chivalrous all in all.
Perhaps we were all drunk, but perhaps the spirit went a little deeper than that.
by Bren
http://www.redbubble.com/people/bren
Because there was little, the smallest amount went to the one with the most generosity. And they were repaid with the gratitude of the others, some who meant it and some who didn’t. But that wasn’t why they did it.
The Giant in his garden, the poor woman in the temple.
The old woman who gave up her seat on the train today, for a rugby player with multiple injuries. The train shook her as she rose, and the commuters held back, visibly waiting to fall on the seat to see who could get the greatest share. She waved him over. Down he came, hobbling with his crutches and broken up face. People parting in front of him like Moses’ sea. I smelled sherry from her as I rose to give her my seat, feeling hungover, but chivalrous all in all.
Perhaps we were all drunk, but perhaps the spirit went a little deeper than that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)