Tag Archives: Daily Prompt
I am struggling to write. This morning I read another struggling writer’s thoughts and was inspired. I even borrow her pic. Please check out writersramblings
Monster Come Home
Interesting? Yes! Pretty? No, was my initial reaction to the decorative item the customer ahead of me held in her hand.
The box was unusual. A purple ceramic dragon sat on a book, whose gilded pages had been stonewashed to give the appearance of aged parchment.
“Can you come down in price? The filigree is chipped in several places.” She asked. Her voice was soft and gentle, her blunt haircut envious as she swung her head side to side.
The cashier smiled an unfriendly smile. “What’s the color of the sticker?”
The purple dragon glared with hatred and its blood red tongue stuck out. I anticipated the mythical creature breathing fire in her direction any minute. The reptile had a crusty head and shiny gold scales decorated its back.
The customer raised the dragon box high to view the only flat surface a price tag might adhere, and said, “Red.”
“Red means it has already been marked down fifty percent.”
Putting the trinket box on the counter she responded, “Is that really the best you can do?”
I positioned myself counter side and joined the conversation. “It’s unique, only appeals to a niche market unless something of value is inside.” The shop was one that invited patron participation, more a second hand or consignment rather than antique.
The cashier studied the item with consideration, “No can do, that red sticker has the final say, that’s the price. Twenty-five dollars, if you want it.”
“I’ll think about it, perhaps come back.” She returned the box to the spot in which she had found it.
The elaborate details appeared to confine the dragon in ways I had not noticed before. Was he breaking out or settling in?
I studied the disappointed on her face. Her eyes were hazel and when she closed them, thick black lashes sealed the lids. Opening them, she swallowed hard pressing her lips. I put my hand on her arm and said, “Why don’t you open it?”
We have been friends since.
It has been a real struggle to write recently, so I have returned to a daily writing exercise. Randomly flip through the dictionary and point at a word. Once you have ten words stop. Like them or not, use as many of them in a story/paragraph.
June 25th, 2015
Interview, ban, states, disturbed, inspector, location, announced, wine, recipe, gizmo
A Gizmo or What-ch-ma-call-it
“Hand me that gizmo,” Rita said.
“What gizmo?” Allen asked while tying his tie and studying Rita’s reflection in the bedroom mirror. Sunlight reflected the red highlights in her auburn hair.
This morning he was dressing for an interview. It was his third in the hiring process. Today he would meet and chat with staff, each of whom had the ability to ban his employment. A mental picture of several inspectors carrying poster boards that read, “Go Home, We Love Fred!” disturbed him. If hired he would replace a popular boss whose subordinates had whined and complained about his firing. He need of a recipe for success, not distraction!
Rita primped oblivious to his situation. With both hands raised above her head and holding a curling iron she stated, “You know that thing-a-ma-gig I use to curl my eye lashes.” Rita bent her neck and pointed her head to indicate a location, “That gizmo over there.”
Allen tightened the Windsor knot at his neck and looked in the direction of her dresser. It was cluttered with; tweezers, nail clippers, buffers, files, and emery boards. Things scattered haphazardly about.
Clueless, he responded, “Which what-ch-ma-call-it?”
Rita sighed with annoyance. “It’s the one with loops for your fingers and a bar to you slip your lashes between. Don’t play stupid. It’s right there.”
Allen sauntered across the room and examined the items on her bureau. He debated which one best fit her description of torture. Then as though playing Russian roulette, held it out to her and said, “You mean this doohickey?”
It has been a real struggle to write recently, so I have returned to a daily writing exercise. Randomly flip through the dictionary and point at a word. When you have ten words stop. Like them or not, use as many of them in a story/paragraph.
June 11, 2015:
Spacecraft, understated, dummy, numbers, goblin, downriver, rigor, sneak, thief, cayenne
A dream woke me in a terrible fright. I was swimming downriver and goblins were everywhere. In the moonlight, their distorted features appeared ghoulish. Some had their eyes in the wrong place, others suffered with over-sized lips, missing ears, or a hole in place of their nose. To say I was glad to be awake was an understatement.
In the bathroom, I applied a cold cloth to my head then decided to sneak downstairs. I could hear my husband snoring. It was the middle of the night and everyone else was asleep. I took the stairs one at a time avoiding the steps I knew would creak.
The numbers on the kitchen clock read three thirty and I sat to ponder my dream and recover. Then felt like a thief rummaging through the pantry looking for something to eat.
The rigor with which the goblins had chased me chewed at my mind. They had not been violent but only a dummy could believe that would not happen with time. Who could these monsters represent in my life? I munched on stale popcorn and made a mental list of anyone I might have harmed. While looking for salt in the spice shelf the cayenne pepper fell on the floor. When I looked down broken glass and red powder covered my feet. My husband was still snoring as I fell to the ground.
. . . . seriously just saying
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “You, the Sandwich.”
If a restaurant were to name something after you, what would it be?
It would be a sandwich, not a hoggie, hero or sub.
Something simple and delicious, to take on the run
My mouth starts to water and I lick my lips
Thinking of this everyday pantry item, always a hit.
Smooth and creamy it sticks to the roof of your mouth
Not to worry a thick slice of apple is packaged inside
That’s why it’s called the “Crunch”
2 pieces of rye bread, or any soft mushy bread of choice
Lots of creamy peanut butter
Slices of Granny Smith Apple
Cut the apple first than, than spread peanut butter on bread, layer apple inside.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Idyllic.”
I wrap my hands around a hot cup of coffee for warmth and wander outdoors. The morning temperature is cool, not more than sixty. I have on socks and a sweatshirt. Our back yard views the golf course. The sounds are peaceful, tranquil or some prefer to say, serene. The trees rarely move. The manicured greens create a sameness that is boring when there is nothing to do. The community not gated nor age restricted, is idyllic.
Then frenzy, a frantic fluttering of leathers and squawking, starts. High above hawks swoop down on a crow’s nest eager for breakfast. Squeals and squalls erupt, like a distress signal, and numerous crows appear as words do in a television screen warning. Alert; heir young will not be eaten.
Over the next hour, crows perched in trees, change watch as the hawks linger eyed for a weakness. The crows have a larger extended family. I wonder if there is a situation room in which their strategy was discussed then conclude it was idyllic and natural instinct.
A pounding heart filled this apprehension, trepidation and fear guides my outstretched fingers, almost touching but not reaching my daughter who is ever so near. She has climbed out a window, her chubby legs dangle enjoying the view. Her eyes twinkle and when she sees mommy, claps her hands repeatedly, as a two-year old will often do. I signal quiet with a finger to my lips as panic replaces subdue. Then shake and shiver petrified of any move. The drop is disastrous if not fatal, but not the only view.