A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments. Thank you, Sammi!
It can be found
in a tropical paradise
a cabin in the woods
even, within the walls of your home
We each have our own vision of where to find it
Is within the circle of your arms
Don’t be mad at me, Rochelle! I was drawing a blank on what to do with this picture and then I saw in my ever-expanding draft files, the WWP for “tether”. Suddenly I had a story. So, merging two prompts is what I done did. That means you only have 80 words to read. Well, that and the blah blah I am doing as an intro 😉 I’m forgiven, right? Please? Thanks go to Roger Bultot for the use of his photo – wonder if he will ever play FF with us again? Should YOU feel like playing, just click on the frog below and add your fabulous 100 word story (don’t use me as a guide, you can use twenty more words!) and add your link!
No Need to Go Out
The doorbell rang and she looked through the peephole. “Yes, who is it?”
“Package for you, Ma’am. Need you to sign.”
“Just leave it at the door, please.”
“NO! Leave it. Just mark it delivered to Dot Parker. All the others do it.”
“Fine.” As he walked away, she heard him mutter “Stupid nutter.”
They say I’m tethered to my home. No, I’m not. I just don’t need to go out there.
At least that’s what she told herself.
De Jackson, aka WhimsyGizmo hosted dVerse Quadrille yesterday. Took me some finagling to get my 44 words to where I was willing to share them. I shoulda chosen another subject because now my memories have come flooding in and this limitation is causing me grief!
Petite Rivière Rouge
where childhood memories were made
Pépère¹ bulldozed river rocks;
a sandy cove to protect our feet
When not being fished,
crapet-soleil² nibbled our toes
Rocks have since rolled back
and the river seems more
like a stream to our adult eyes
¹Pépère means “Gramps”
²Crapet-soleil is a fish, that, I just learned, is called Pumpkinseed fish – we are never too old to learn 🙂
A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments. Thank you, Sammi, for hosting!
Time for a walk, I’m short on steps
Outside my door, one tiny phlox,
a vivid purple, demands my attention
It succeeds. I photograph it and turn
right into the rain I hadn’t noticed
Big, fat drops bounce off the hot pavement
delighting my nose
God, I love that scent!
I breathe deep and keep walking
Turning the corner, a bright white cloud
Can white be vivid?
it is so bright
over there, while
I jump over puddles, laughing
all the way home
When I saw this week’s CCC prompt, I was fairly certain where I would go with it. Then I did. And went over the word count. Forgiven, Crispina? Hopefully this garnered a chuckle which saved me a good chastising. Hope you enjoy my little silly today 🙂
First, we set up a guard, trying to keep the hooligans out. Maybe we should have made the sign bilingual? No matter what language it was in, they ignored it. And the guard. Not that he put up anything near close a fight, actually. Truth told, he went and hid under the stairs, quivering as they walked on his head, so to speak.
Once past the gate, the hooligans were meant to be discouraged them from crossing the stream on their way to our pond. This time it was in English. Did that deter them? Not on your life. They feared no prosecution. Even laughed from below and wallked all along until they reached their destination.
A sign indicating the water was dangerously deep did not give them pause. Rather the opposite – just like we knew it would. He he he. The over-hanging branch was further invitation. First one dove and landed, head in the super soft muck, legs sticking out from the waist down. Or was it up? We sat back and laughed, watching them help their buddy up and running off our property. We knew this group was taken care of. Why none of ’em ever tests to see just how deep it is, is beyond me. Serves ’em right, little bastards.
It’s Wednesday and you know what that means, right? That’s right! It’s Friday Fictioneers time! This week, thanks go to the lovely Na’ama Yehuda, who may or may not know that it is her picture being used this week. 😉 No worries, she’ll find out soon enough, eh? As always, thanks to Rochelle for hosting this weekly shindig! If you want to play along, add your link to your own 100-word story by click on the frog below.
For God sakes Emma, did you see what the Richardson’s did to their yard? They’ve put fake snow and decorated their outside trees. I’m pretty sure I saw a Christmas tree in their living room window!
Yes, that’s right. Glad to see your eyes are working
Why the hell for? It’s July for Christ’s sake.
Their daughter Bessie doesn’t have long with this world and they want her to have one last Christmas.
Oh damn, that is so sad. I’ve an idea!
What are you doing?
Call the neighbours and put on your coat, hat and mitts, we’re going carolling!
It was prosery (144 words max, not including the title and no poetry allowed) Monday yesterday for dVerse. I’m late but hey, c’est la vie, I say… Lisa at Tao-Talk is hosting and went down a rabbit hole that started with Alice Walker and her interest in Zora Neale Hurston. So, Lisa landed on the following quote, which we must use:
No, I do not weep at the world – I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.
~Zora Neale Hurston, from “How Does it Feel to be Colored Me” in World Tomorrow (1928).
Reading that phrase immediately brought to mind my grandmother, who was also my godmother, and to whom I have been compared (it thrills me). No, she never used this phrase but its essence is definitely Noëlla to me.
You were my hero from the moment I was old enough to understand the stories. How you were the eldest of fifteen children and had you a choice, would have had none of your own – yet birthed seven. How you lived in lumberjack shacks where the sun shone through the cracks and the water froze in the kettle overnight. How you had the strength to leave your alcoholic husband to raise your kids on your own – and were judged for it by the Nuns who taught your kids. How you survived the death of all three of your sons over the years. How you became a businesswoman, despite a grade-three education.
“No, I do not weep at the world – I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.”
I know you were saying it’s up to you to make or break your life.
Good Wednesday morning, my peeps! It’s Friday Fictioneer time and today we have this photo from J.Hardy Carroll to inspire us. As always, thank you to Rochelle for driving this train weekly! If you care to play along, just click on the frog below and add the link to your 100-word story. Easy peasy!
The Daily Wave
My train’s always on time. I pride myself on following the schedule. People count on me and I dare not let them down. Not in my nature, anyhow. So, I chug along, blowing my whistle calling the children to come out and wave. I tell you, it’s the best part of my day to see them kids running across the fields wanting nothing else but to have me return their hello. I sure wish I could bring them wherever they want to go. It’s a hard life for them with few options. But I ain’t allowed.
Where are they today?
I was reminded of my trip to Cuba. My kids and I took a short train ride and the local kids all came out running, waving to us passengers. Most smiled…
I haven’t participated in a Crimson’s Creative Challenge in eons. I saw this image yesterday and had a great idea and a “matchy-matchy” photo. But then, this morning, I read David Kanigan’s post and it just fit with the image so I decided to totally steal from him, and then had to use another photo. After all, Crispina says anything goes: answering photo, caption, quote… so, quote it is! Thank you, David 😉
But then, this is not really my thing. While I feel this was a nice way to respond to the challenge, I still felt I should write a little something of my own, so my two cents’ worth, inspired by Merwin’s poem and yet another image, is after;)
If we are separated I will
try to wait for you
on your side of things
your side of the wall and the water
and of the light moving at its own speed
even on leaves that we have seen
I will wait on one side
while a side is there
— W.S. Merwin, “Travelling Together” from The Rain in the Trees
While we are separated, I will
think of you
from my side of things
I will walk the dappled paths
that meander along the water
knowing that time and light will do their thing
until the day we can
hand in hand
play with the shadows
trying to hold time still
It’s Wednesday! I am afraid I don’t do fiction very well. Of course, if I didn’t have so many stories to cull from, maybe I’d work my imagination a bit more. 😉 That being said, here is this week’s Friday Fictioneer contribution inspired by Sandra Crook‘s photo. As always, thank you to Rochelle for hosting this here weekly partay! Click on the frog below to add the link to your own 100-word story if you dare…
I asked the city for permission. They said ‘no’.
Why the hell did you do that?
It’s the right thing to do.
Ahh, shit. Don’t care, I’m cutting it down anyway. It’s too huge, sways like crazy in storms and the damn pinecones end up in the pool!
Mick’s friend Pierre, a professional, did the deed while the neighbours watched and cheered (they worried with every storm, too). They then chopped and put the logs aside to dry. Firewood for next year!
Two months later, the city slapped us with an $850 fine. Plus, we had to replace the tree. Cost: $150.
Bye-bye old tree
Hello expensive new tree