I want to write something but what I know not
I say that often, more often than I ought
I think some fresh coffee would hit the spot
It all trailed off. She sat there. “Good God, that’s a helluva start” (right place for the comma – check that) Melissa thought, as she sat at the laptop – “no, I just said sat, overkill” – enjoying the sunrise, reveling in the peace with her grandson asleep… around the corner from the planet of the apes. “Man, what’s with me today… I can feel it. Now, how do I get that down on paper, technically no paper? (But with the question mark instead of a period it comes across as I don’t know for sure – eh) I want to keep typing. Typing what? ! (an exclamation point in the middle of nowhere but the spell check doesn’t care – no green or red indicators – hmm) My fingers want to keep moving. Maybe I should wrap them around a coffee pot. Maybe I should cut them off so I stop with the idiotic rhyming. Idle hands! Have I been possessed? Only parts of me get possessed; my feet are possessed, they always want new shoes. If I don’t buy them… if I buy them – better – my thinking is / has been possessed. With the idiocy of my writting, that’s writing, I’m guessing yes. The spell check keeps correcting so I do my best. It’s stopping me from being myself, which is a good thing? Machinery is taking over! Maximum overdrive… Seriously?”
Melissa looked up from the table. A small figure appeared in the entrance. “That’s not scary. Say ‘a figure appeared’… I should stop.”
She went into the kitchen. Well, she went into the kitchen after she and her grandson did their morning hugs.
“Is that good grammar…” Never mind.
Laughter, gaiety, joy, we were so burned out from the year we’d had we were all hoping, yes, we were united on this, the staff dinner would be a good one. “Anyone not available Monday night?” We looked back at each other then at the director. “No, don’t think so” I’d piped up. The others shrugged. Tough crowd. This group had to get together.
Monday evening by 5:30 all children had been picked up. I stepped out under a sky heavy in snow clouds, their aura almost lighting the night. Smiling, cheeks tingling, I breathed deep the Christmassy crispness…
The Prompt: Staff Do, Laughter and 100wcgu
100 Word Challenge For Grown-Ups
She’d pat the piglet
Hoping they wouldn’t but they did.
Pit readied, coals perfect
Into the pot it was placed after slitting it’s throat
Of course it was skinned and intestines removed
Into the pot it was put
(A better way to say?)
Delicious they said
Meat so tender it’s true
But she wouldn’t eat
Not one bite
She could not
“What we get from the store doesn’t bother you”
But being the point
The wound now too new
The Friday Reminder and Prompt for SoCS March 14/15
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is:
I’d hoped you were still alive and had faked your death because I annoyed you in some way, but I looked up your obituary. You really have passed, somehow I knew. A dream not long after followed, nothing I’d planned. You stunned in a white sweater, turtleneck, white slacks, something you never wore. A clue. Your kitchen was brilliant, dazzling brighter than the sun. You always kept it clean but not like this. We sat down for coffee as we’d so often done. You are happy and at peace. Checking in proved to be good for you.
Friends in high places, maybe for me too.
The prompt is: “checking in proved to be…”
She’d just stepped out of the shower. How Janine hated this rainy weather wreaking havoc with her sinuses causing her head to be clogged most of the time and making voices sound like they were in a tunnel. She grabbed a plush towel twisting its corner as tight as she could, cramming it into one ear then the other to dry them. She hoped that’d do the trick.
“Well, they’re dry but this is new; what is that ringing in my ears? Nothing like Santa’s bells.” She was reminded of a child receiving a Christmas bell so he’d always believe.
“Nope. This isn’t it. Terrific.”
The prompt for this week is:
“…but what is that ringing in my ears?…”
“It’s like being in a daze”, Naomi was saying. “You finally get the one thing you like to do and there’s a breeze – you feel alive. It’s surprising how seldom I come across what I’m certified for. Here you’re dealing with the UN. Cooperation maybe. There it’s one culture so for the most part there shouldn’t be serious opposition except people have their opinions, each the right ones, or historic issues that they consider one another an abomination.”
She sighed at the array of copies for class that covered her desk.
“What was it I need to remember about this next group?”
Grace shook her head.
The prompt this week is:
…I need to remember…
No one’s beautiful wife rose early as she did
Silently crept disturbing no one’s sleep
Looked out the window giving a peek
To the parasitic tree
The mistletoe such significance
But she was no one’s beautiful wife
Standing over the stove creating
Silently she stirred as daylight rose
The curtains drawn back
Such a sight covering trunk and branch
Those special berries poisonous
We stand beneath and kiss
But she was no one’s beautiful wife
Silently she stood listening outside a door
Peaceful sleeping gentle breath
A good rest health restored
A sigh of relief no one heard
From no one’s beautiful wife
The prompt this week being: …those special berries…
We used to meet up, us three
Regulars lent character, created atmosphere
You cooked so your sister’d be spoiled
It caught in my throat as I walked not far from my place
Not much exercise to boast
How will it feel, no need to ask
This way, thoughts to desserts but my reflection
passing restaurant glass, a jab to distract from the stab
crossed decadence off
Instead a scoop, chocolate drizzle, iced coffee combined
As cicadas numerous as biblical plagues
drowned music piped
But when all’s said and done, I won’t return
Miss you son
The prompt this week:
“93, almost a century but it’s still me.” She stood facing herself in the mirror in her comfy sweats and over-sized shirt. “Always loved men’s flannels – like wearing soft protective arms.” Never had she known such arms yet she was still a believer. “Ben’d said his most productive years were his 90s. It could still happen.”
She gave herself the once over, hair pure white now. “Take that Storm! Hmm, could I really wear that? I used to.”
Sweats and shirt dropped to the floor. On went the jeans and deep v’d blouse. “Hell yeah.” She grabbed her fringed Gucci bag and headed out.
The prompt this week is:
…could I really wear that …