Category Archives: Daily Prompt

Good Looking

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Daily Prompt Uniform

The Cadets filed across the stage one by one, abruptly stopped or came to a halt and after saluting the Commander came to rest. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder hands at their sides, the buttoned down shirt collars smiled. Snug belts hugged midriffs and razor sharp creases cascaded their pant legs brushing the tops of high shine black shoes, making each one indistinguishable from the next. The sameness and harmony guaranteeing no one was more important.

. . . .  Seriously Just Saying

Precipice of Life

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Daily Prompt

Photo by Skogafoss

Precipice of Life

     Julia stands on the cliff; the roar of water deafens the constant stream of thoughts in her head. Whispers bring her alarmingly close to the edge as her heart throbs. Her toes grip loose pebbles scattered on the dirt path, she secures footing and breathes in the cool air. Water cascades like a bridal veil over rocks flat from years of pounding as she ponders the pros and cons. Jumping is the surest way to end the piercing pain now part of her existence. The gasping and gagging for breathe over in minutes welcoming peace. Water bounces off the rocks below splashing her to her senses and a realization of what her “gone missing” could do to the people left behind. Tears flood her eyes. She sits, pulls her knees close to her chest, and wrapping her arms around them sobs in tune with the cascading xylophone sound.

Cusp of Ridiculousness

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Daily Prompt

Cusp of Ridiculousness

     Today’s Daily Prompt is cusp; I grab a dictionary to clarify meaning, my mind racing from the morning news regarding Judge Neil M. Gorsuch’s Supreme Court nomination.

Cusp is a point of intersection where two arcs or curved branches meet, an opportunity for politicians to put politics aside and move forward for the good of this country.

That is not happening because Democrats seek revenge for Republican Mitch McConnell refusal to conduct hearings on Obama’s nominee Judge Merrick B Garland.

It feels like a food fight in the Kindergarten lunchroom, They appear to be having fun, but who will be cleaning up the mess?

. . . . Seriously just saying

 

The Scent of Coffee

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Daily Prompt

     I walk into the coffee shop a strong whiff of coffee descends and I am in heaven. There is no other way to describe the effect and close my eyes inhale the aroma. My chest expands savoring the moment, and then with relaxed shoulders I join a line of customers. The line is not long.

A voice behind a “Flavor of the Season” sign calls out, “Sara, frozen latte extra whip cream.” A woman steps to the counter with a receipt in hand, “That’s me but I want a frozen latte with extra caramelized whipped cream.” Her emphasis on caramelized is exaggerate.

I study the iced plastic container with a sleek black straw poked into its dome cover as it is set aside and search my senses for a hint of coffee.

The line is not getting shorter but longer behind me.

I hear the cashier take orders for a Cappuccino, a Frappuccino (whatever that is), several Smoothies and a Latte Macchiato, and believe I am next in line when she announces her break.

The customer line is now out the door the strong coffee aroma diluted. Be patient I tell myself thinking I may have caffeine withdrawal when I am called and order, “A regular cup of coffee.”

“Tall or Grande?”

I want to tell her to just shut-up, hurry up and get me a cup of coffee but do not. I smile, “Tall, please.”

“Would you care for a Croissant, Scone, Cheese Danish or Cinnamon Morning Bun?”

“No, just coffee! I’ve been standing in line for thirty minutes I want a cup of coffee, not a Latte, Cappuccino, Espresso, Caffé Misto, or Green Tea. I just want a cup of coffee.”

. . . . Seriously Just Saying

Mrs. Dash

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     Suspicious? Yes, she is suspicious and had been for a while. There is that little twinkle in his eye when he smiles, and he smiles more checking a mirror constantly for food stuck in his teeth. The other day he said, “I’m thinking of whiting them.”

     She hears the outside door slam as he bounds up the steps to announce, “I’m home.”

     “I heard you coming.” She replies  and pulls the sheer window cover aside. A most attractive woman is standing in the rain. The young female, wearing  a spaghetti strap dress its fabric absorbing the sudden downpour, is twirling a large black umbrella. She has a Mona Lisa smile and dancer calf’s.

   “Come have a look, this woman has to be freezing and how can she walk in those heels?”

    “Only to make you happy. I have better things to do.” He says hanging  his jacket on a coat hook near the door.

     Together they peer out the water-speckled pane of glass his hands on her shoulders. “That’s Mrs. Dash.”

“Mrs. Dash, as in the salt replacement. You know her?”

“Yea, Mrs. Dash as in replace the salt. I don’t know if she owns the company, but she is your new neighbor.”

. . . . . Seriously Just saying

 

Filter

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Photographer: ДмитрийВладимирович

Daily Prompt

     The sunlight filters through the slots in a wooden blind and reveals what was not seen before. The five o’clock sun makes the dust and single strands of blonde hair twinkle on the dark pine floor. There are some pencil shavings and itsy -bitsy pieces of paper She grabs a sweeper from the closet. It is lightweight, less than three pounds, reminds one of a dust-buster but has a long handle and is more powerful. She vacuums intensely conscious of the fading light outlining the evidence. When the sun is gone, her shoulders relax and she sighs. Is a dirt house a crime?

Ten

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“I’ll be back in ten.” He said twenty minutes ago.

She unfolds herself out of the car, waves and rushes inside for coffee and a favorite, crumb cake.

Now she sits at an umbrella table, the too hot to hold cup cooling surrounded by the  Mountains and hugs her tote. Reminds herself; we are in Albuquerque staying at the Holiday Inn or is it the Comfort?

How long does it take to get gas?

She savors the cinnamon crumbs alternated by sips of dark roasted coffee.

After thirty minutes, she does the math. Thirty minutes ago he said, “I’ll be back in ten.” So forty minutes have passed. I’ll phone, and uses voice command to Call Bob, her husband of forth-six years.

His voice mail automatically goes on and she says, “It’s me, where are you?”

Ten more minutes pass.   

In the distance fire sirens screechy, and she thinks, maybe he had a heart attack and tries to recall the car rental company they used at the airport.

She caresses her cell, debates whether to call 911, and deposits her empty cup in a nearby garbage pail. When a car horn honks and he calls, “You’ll never guess what happened.”

 

. . . . Seriously Just Saying