Category Archives: Writing Exercise

Gooey Snack

 

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Daily Prompt

     Remember the days of mushy white wonder bread spread with margarine and sprinkled with real sugar, that was a snack after we changed out of school clothes into play clothes (woolen Jamaica shorts, argyle socks and white Keds.

     It was the time of hot dogs, English muffin pizza, Bologna sandwiches, cool aid, powdered milk, and the introduction of frozen vegetables.

     My all time favorite snack, however, was crackers smeared with gooey peanut butter and of course grape jelly.

     Today I indulged in that with an afternoon cup of coffee and found myself in heaven.

 

. . .  Seriously just saying

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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.

Boohoo Coffee Cup

Boohoo Coffee Cup

thThere is something appealing, soothing about the cardboard cup in my hand. The container dressed in army green with a crisp white lid appears dignified. A dirt brown cuff wrapped around its middle protects my fingers and palm from the too hot content. The walk from the coffee station to a comfortable table and chair looks to be an easy task but is not when my handbag slips off my shoulder. The strap lands in the crook of my elbow, I tighten my hand around the paper cuff which pops open the lid and hot liquid slides down its crisp exterior threatening to scald my hand. I rush to the nearest table fearing what would come    next, that is when we met.

Devastation

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Photo by Adam

Daily Prompt

Chicken Coop Devastation

     The wind howled in anticipation. The chickens squawked necks jerking forward then back pecking at unseen danger, their skinny claws raking the dry brown ground. Molly raised her head, called into the sky; “Lord, Lord save us from devastation.”

     As the wind threatened to raise her skirt high, she lured the chickens inside the coop wondering if it would make a difference; if anything made a difference.

     The lone road leading to the house was empty. Skip probably not on the way back probably headed towards that other woman who brought them havoc.

     Molly knew something was going on from the first “Meet the Teacher” night. Skip had showered, shaved and wore the right fit jeans.  Molly teased him, “You spruced up, feels like we’re going on a date.”

     She knew because his eyes locked with Ms. Jenny’s as they stood in the doorway,     before his hand casually brushed the third grade teacher during a meeting folder exchange.

     She had been vandalized, came upon a locked box previously hidden in the attic floorboards empty, the jewelry and money inside taken by someone she love. Her heart demolished and destroyed.

     The weather alert sounded and Molly tucked herself inside the chicken coop praying, “Lord, Lord save us from devastation.”

. . . . Seriously Just Saying

Political Second Thoughts

 

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Daily Prompt

“Are you ready?”

“Not really?”

“Not really? We agreed to vote early, avoid the lines.”

“I’m having second thoughts.”

“Second thoughts, about voting?”

“No second thoughts about Trump. What if he wins?”

“He’ll be president.”

“Hilary’s a liar, she deleted emails and then there’s Benghazi? Think about Supreme Court nominees. How can you vote for her?”

“Well for one thing she’s not going to be investigated by the FBI and to my knowledge hasn’t groped anyone.”

“Your right! I’ll vote for Hilary. You know history is in the making, a woman president, and a man first lady.”

“Oh! You’re changing your mind? . . .  The Supreme Court? That’s some serious stuff, needing some serious thought.”

“You’re making a right about face?”

“Yes, you were going to vote for him. I can have second thoughts. ”

“Right but I had second thoughts first and now I’m voting for Hilary.”

“Well I’m voting for Trump! Any third thoughts?”

“Get in the Car.”

. . . . Seriously Just Saying

Irksome People

Daily Prompt

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     Nora sets two hot coffee containers on the reception desk then places her handbag on the swivel chair. She removes her coat walking towards the open closet door, several winter coats hang lazily on hangers inside. She buttons her Mohair wool jacket to a wooden one, to prevent it slipping to the floor, and turns to see Don, wearing a smile, wiggling out of his leather bomber.

     Nora says, “Good Morning, Don, I brought you coffee.”

     “Thanks Nora, a peace offering or you gonna start?” He reaches for a hanger and drapes his jacket on it. The heavy shoulders pull to one side and the end of the hanger pokes the forearm of the garment.

     She answers, “Peace offering, although I find it irksome and would not abuse such a beautiful article of clothing if it were mine, it’s yours and you have every right to hang it anyway you like.”

     Don’s smile broadens, “Irksome as in irk? A little word, short and to the point. Irk, produces a sharp sound with little effort if you pucker you lips together, Nora,” then his smile fads.  

. . . . Seriously Just Saying