Author Archives: Dee

About Dee

I am a working wife, geek, and mother of two with opinions about just about everything which I plan to share here.

Confusing Six Word Sentences

I clicked on a link to Show My Face where they have this six word sentence thing.  There was a sentence:

Beach Boys shouldn’t sing Christmas music


Turns out it was not prompt but the example.  By the time I figured that out I had already written several.  To be fair, I am sleepy and have a blue screamer of a headache but you can still feel free to laugh.  Here are my attempts:

California girls don’t ho ho ho.
Dashing through snow ain’t sunny fun.
Rhonda can’t help deck the halls.
Little deuce coup can’t hold Santa.

Maybe this needs a little more thought…

Simon Meets A Dragon

Sunday Scribbling #193 : brave

Simon sat still on the rock. The sun was at that point where you couldn’t see it anymore but the colors in the sky betrayed the position it so recently held. There were cushions of clouds that reflected the gold and orange and rose before they pushed into the purple that was on it’s way to deepest blue.
The black shape whirling through the sky came ever closer then darted away again. It had the power to kill Simon in one swipe or one breath of it’s fiery nostrils if it chose. Silence and stillness were the test and if he failed there wouldn’t be a second chance.

The last pass was close enough that the sunset colors glinted off the green scales and the indigo of the evening sky could be seen though the nearly transparent skin of the wings. It was cold but still Simon sat. He had travelled for days to get to Weyr Rock and that was after years of trying to learn it’s location. The knowledge had been common at one time. The dragons hid their home by way of magic, for survival. He knew that they were aware of his presence. He had felt the magic going out around him. It made his skin tingle, and the air smell like lightening.

Long ago, before these kings and their wars, magic was known. Now, politics and intrigue had pushed it aside. Wizards who once held kingdoms together and kept the evil at bay, were in hiding like the dragons. The land was cold and dark for most. The poor, the powerless, they were the ones protected by magic and now, they were on their own.

Once a month at the full moon, he had gone to the mountain and Nuala left her moon for one night and they would dance and talk until morning when she would have to return. It was one such night that she told him of the Weyr Rock and how to travel there. The kings had had their time. It was time to bring magic and dragons back.

The green and bronze monster circled closer each time and though he had trumpeted a warning to others, he alone showed himself. Dragons had their own politics and this one must be very powerful to have kept the rest from killing Simon.

Out on the edge of the rock I had set an offering basket of herbs and apples. There were blueberries, borage, bracken, hawthorne berry, and lots of chamomile and garlic. The hawthorne berries were out of respect for the fae. The old stories told of Dragons love for chamomile.

He prayed that Nuala would guide him as the dragon came to rest on the rock, his beautiful scaled tail curling around the outcropping. He bowed his head towards the basket and gently flicked his tongue at the treats. He turned his gaze at Simon and blinked, his scaled lids momentarily covering the lapiz iris and black slit of a pupil. He nodded his head for Simon to speak. Simon told him of the wars and the hunger in the land. He spoke of wizards and fae in hiding because with no dragons they became nothing but pawns for whatever bloodthirsty king had possession of a patch of ground.

Simon told him that he had seen the caves on the mountainside where dragon and human once life bound themselves to each other. He had seen chamomile growing wild among the rocks. The people were ready. They needed dragons.

The dragon nibbled a bite of food from the basket. His huge but somehow delicate wings were folded gracefully and as he ate, puffs of smoke came from his nostrils, an ever present reminder of his power to char Simon to nothing.

The dragon looked at him and Simon heard his voice in his head. The dragons lips never moved but he spoke to Simon as clearly as if he was next to him.

“I am the eldest and remember the days when we lived together in harmony and white magic was strong in the land. I will talk to my brothers but only if you go along.” He blinked again. Simon heard the challenge in the voice in his head.

Simon knew without a doubt, that if he was unable to convince the dragons to help, he would be killed. It was enough that he had found Weyr Rock. They would never let him leave if he held their secret lair. He stood and stared for a second at the moon as it rose. He asked the dragon to lead him there.

The dragon chuckled then. “This is no place you can walk to. There is only one way to get there.” He laid his head down so that his neck was stretched out and Simon could see a natural place just above his wings, just right for a rider. He gathered his cloak and climbed upon the dragon. He grabbed the offering basket and before he could say he was ready, the dragon took off. Simon was flying! He might not live through this night but by the gods, he was riding a dragon! He glanced at the moon and could have sworn he could see it smiling at him. They soared across the top of the mountains. Simon was too excited to be afraid. He yelled with the exhilaration and the dragon laughed. The wind whistled past and in the cold silence, Simon felt the closeness of the moon, of Nuala. He felt alive. He felt hope.

Don’t Touch That Dial

For some explanations of haiku and the American sentence see here.  My first humble attempt using One Word: dial for a prompt. Thank you Chris for the explanation and the wonderful examples.

No matter which direction he turned the dial the volume never lessened.

he searched for music
fingers twirling dials around
silence is better

music haunts the airwaves
dials and knobs turn to beauty
floating to my ears

Meh, I’ll keep at it.  Thanks Chris

Her Dance

Three Word Wednesday lithe, grave, offend

She had been called to dance
and dance She did
lithe, swaying to the rhythm of wind
and season
stretching to receive sun’s gift
clothed to shelter
song and fruit
She rested and shed her colors
naked and weeping
silent and barren as the grave
as though She had offended
still standing proud and resolved
though heavy laden and dark
taking her bow, the dance o’er
the chilled sleep
no more applause

donning finery
a layer at a time, perfect designer
slowly awaken
curtains open, warmth drawn
once again She raises eyes and
a little taller, a little wider
growing in grace
She begins the dance again

Never Count On a Thelosian

Sunday Scribbling: Weird

Three Word Wednesday Fondle, Sumptuous, kick

something new

String of ten December 3: RUT CITY-BECKON-MARIONETTE-THIN WALLED-IRIDESCENT-CRYPTIC-CRACKLE-DARLING-HINDU-WARREN

Rand mashed buttons furiously on the thin-walled iridescent communicator.  Somebody needed to extricate him and send in a clean up crew NOW, dammit!  If they didn’t get here in the next few minutes they were gonna need the clean up crew for him!  He felt the familiar uncomfortable limb-jerking marionette feeling that told him someone had found the right code and frequency and finally pushed the correct sequence to get him out of this God forsaken rut of a city.  If he never came back here again he would be fine, thanks.  His limbs started to jerk and he watched his own fingers disappear and then fade back in as he was plopped down in the middle of who knew what planet. He heard a crackle coming from the chip embedded in his ear lobe.

He looked around, hoping the crackle wouldn’t turn into a full blown diatribe before he got his bearings.  Emergency extrication was not an exact science.  Last time Rand found himself in a warren of alleys that led nowhere and everywhere you don’t want to go.  Mutants huddled in corners beckon with their thoughts, wraiths with their pale skin and green eyes glowing in the dark.  The only thing that kept him from succumbing to their siren song stretching tendrils into his brain was Darling on the other end of the communicator singing ballads to him.  Rand had no idea how Darling got her name, but he’d been more than a little in love with her ever since that day.  As long as he worked for The Asylum, he wanted her on the other end of this tenuous connection.

“Rand? Where the hell are you?”  Rand looked around.  He had come maybe two blocks and there seemed to be no one around. Come to think of it, that was strange in itself.  It was some sort of city.  The hindu-temple like buildings towered hundreds of feet over him and looking up, he could see they had sky rails.  Now what.  After the mess on Thelos, he needed to get the artifact back to the office.  “I have no idea Darling.”
“Well visuals on and I’ll see what I can dig up.”
Rand described the buildings to her.  “No life forms yet. Oops, wait!” Rand squeezed into the shadows as two very large, very blue, somethings passed by.  There was communication but mostly a series of grunts and squeaks.  Nothing he could process or that his translator recognized.  He flipped his eye piece down and tracked them and a little of the skyline and clicked to send vid to Darling.  “Okay, I have you.  You’re in the capital city on Lumor and they do not take kindly to unregistered visitors from off planet.  Give me a few secs and I’ll have data and bring you in.”

Rand was more than ready to be back.  Thelos was supposed to be drop in, meet up, and bring a package out.  Unfortunately someone must have been eavesdropping on trans because when he arrived, not only was that slimy Arthen there with his nasty dreads and sulphurous body odor, but in burst members of a rival faction and he had to leave the extraction area on foot.  Arthen was shooting his way out and screaming at Rand for payment as Rand ducked out the back and yelled at Darling to get him out of there.

Now he was on a planet with nothing but unfriendly giant smurfs and an artifact that was wanted throughout this part of the galaxy.  The universe was getting entirely too small for Rand.  His face was known on at least a dozen planets and he was banned from a few.  He didn’t want to add another one to the list.  He fondled the chip in his pocket.  This would bring a pretty price and he was more than ready for a sumptuous dinner and time to kick back with all that the credits from this sale would bring him.  First he had to get home alive. “Darling, my love!  Come get me!”

“Oh man, now I’m in for it!”  The two blue giants must have heard something because they were rounding the corner with a device in their hands that did NOT look friendly.  One of them fired just as Rand felt himself fading.  Seconds later he was staring up into Darling’s green eyes.

“Rand, you look like hell.”

“Love you too, Darling.”

Play Your Cards Right

Sunday Scribbling : Game

Every Friday night it was the same.  HE went and played cards with HIS friends.  It didn’t matter what she wanted.  She tried a time or two to make plans that included him but no, Friday night was sacred.  When she tried to talk to him about it he had the nerve to suggest she go shopping with his mother on those nights.  Like that was ever going to happen!

Well, enough is enough.  SHE would make her own plans for Friday nights and every night from now on.  Laurie had been giving this a lot of thought and she was sure she had every detail covered.  She might not be a poker player but she had her own game with her own rules and it was her turn.  No more full house for him.

SHE had her own deck and it told her what she needed to know.  She shuffled the cards one last time and cut the deck.  The queen of hearts.  What a laugh. She left it sitting there on the kitchen table next to her cell. She flipped her hair back, picked up her suitcase and climbed in the old chevy van.  She hated the thing.  It was like driving a tank.

Every Friday night he went to Tommys and played poker.  He was careful and he was pretty good.  He stayed sober and paid attention.  He had been winning pretty regular and socking it away.  Laurie had gotten kind of crabby about the Friday night thing lately.  He just needed a few more good nights to have the down payment on that sweet little yellow convertible she had been drooling over down at Smitty’s Auto Sales.  Just a few more. She was gonna love it and he was sure she didn’t have a clue.

Chuck passed him another brew.  He took a swig and thought about her reaction when he suggested she go shopping with his Mom. Boy, she was frosted.  He could tell by the look on her face.  He couldn’t wait to see the look when he walked her out to the driveway to see that car.

He had done pretty well tonight.  The last game he totally bluffed and Tommy folded.  He raked the money toward himself and the guys all moaned.

“I think we shoulda just gone down and bought the car for Laurie ourselves.” Chuck scratched his head and laughed. “Guess it wouldn’t have been near as much fun.  I sure hope it’s worth it.

Laurie crossed the bridge over Lake Pontchartrain as the sun was going down.  It would be a good five hours before he got home and realized she was gone.  She’d be the other side of Pensacola by then.  He would call her mama.  It didn’t matter, she was headed for Jax, beaches, and her cousin’s condo.

Two weeks later her mother forwarded the letter from him.  She opened the envelope to find a blank piece of paper wrapped around the photograph that slipped to the floor.  She bent to pick up a picture of Will standing in front of a yellow convertible in front of  Vegas casino.

He was smiling and holding the queen of hearts.  Laurie tore the picture into tiny pieces and threw them in the trash.

queenhearts

Tomorrow my short story “Ladies Night” will be posted on Every Day Fiction.  After reading some of the comments posted on the stories from the last two days I’m a little nervous.  A few friendly “faces” would be nice.

I’ll post the permalink here, in the morning when the story is up.

And here it is.

http://www.everydayfiction.com/ladies-night-by-dee-martin/

Nanowrimo and More

Nanowrimo is over. done. fini.

nanowinner

It was a good learning experience for me though there are some problems inherent to the very idea of setting a goal of fifty thousand words in thirty days.  There is little time to change your mind or to camp out in any one spot for long. If you have any kind of life you are going to have times when you simply cannot write and unless you have cranked out a huge amount of words ahead of time you will find your  palms sweating and your knees knocking, worried that you have begun the slow slide into the pit of defeat.  The motivation of being part of a group works for me for quantity and now is the time to edit.  I will give it a few days and then revisit what I wrote.

I learned several things along the way that someone might have told me or I might have read in a textbook, but I never would have really “gotten it”.  Having written nothing but short stories before this, I had no concept of the scope.  I had no concept of the depth necessary for a character to become a person known intimately by the reader.  I also had no clue how much LABOR is involved.  I still have difficulty letting bad things happen to my characters.  I grow to like them and end up with an aversion to hurting them or subjecting them to conflict which makes for a very boring book.

The encouragement from doing this as a part of a group is helpful.  I was a part of a region but not close enough to any group to actually participate in a write in.  The occasional pep talk emails from authors that are sent out to nanowrimo participants are helpful and the forums are interesting to stroll through.  All in all, it was a good experience and I will probably do it again next year.

I am excited about the idea of starting a Young Writers Program at school.  Nanowrimo supports this program and has materials and tee shirts and badges to help.  The computer lab would be ideal for holding a write in so I will be talking to the English teachers hoping to get some interest generated.

nano_09_winner_100x100

Back in the spring I sent a short story to Every Day Fiction.  They contacted me a couple of months later and said that they liked my story but had a few suggestions for revisions.  I made my revisions and re-sent the story.  I received an email this evening saying they have decided to publish my story and will contact me again with the publication date.  There were some nice comments included with the email.

According to their website:

Every Day Fiction is a magazine that specializes in bringing you fine fiction in bite-size doses. Every day, we publish a new short story of 1000 words or fewer that can be read during your lunch hour, on transit, or even over breakfast.

So I will take a little time with my Sunday Scribbling prompt this week and maybe enjoy just a few moments to bask and catch my breath.

Thanks are due.

To Tony for nudging me to write, for suggesting nanowrimo, and for the existence of this site that has become my digital home. For being the Wizard and knowing answers to some of my weird late night technical questions. Congratulations to you and Paige.

Paschal – thank you for the encouragement.  Not just for nanowrimo, but for always.

Dale, my love.  Thank you for looking over my shoulder and telling me to get off Facebook and get back to writing.  Thank you for cooking, for encouraging, for editing, and for not giving me a good smack when my answer to a question was to hold a finger up as I continued to type. (no not THAT finger!)

There are others and you know who you are.  Thank you.

P.S. I have been informed that my story will be published December the third.  I will of course, put a permalink on this blog when it is up.  Hope you will all drop by for a read 🙂

The Slippers

One Word prompt: slippers

She walked into the house and went straight back to the bedroom.  She was beyond tired.  People had been so nice.  The service was nice. Everything was so damn nice she wanted to scream or slap somebody.  The fridge was full of food.  She would be trying to decide if she wanted chicken or ham for supper for the next week.  There were pies and cakes and jello molds.  A neighbor had brought the potted plants home and set them on the driveway next to the porch door for her.  She would find somewhere to put them.  She never could stand waste.  Was that a noise? Something ticking?

Maybe…maybe she could stand it a little bit right now.  She really could care less about the stupid plants. There was a little bit of mad filling up her throat but it got tamped down again by the numbing sadness.  Did she hear something?

What was it all for?  She had scrimped and saved.  The kids were grown.  They should be traveling, enjoying life now.  She had tried to get him to watch his diet, take better care of himself.  He worried about every little thing that happened.  He worried and ate and ate and worried until his heart just exploded.  Now what would she do.  Nothing she could do except write thank you cards and pay the funeral home.  There was some business to take care of. Notifications to make.  Loose ends to tie up.  There.  She heard it again.  She was sure it was something ticking.

She sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off her shoes.  She reached for her slippers and there, under the edge of the bed, she saw them.  Right next to her pink fluffy house shoes.  They were worn out.  The leather was soft and the inside was lined with red plaid flannel.    She put her head in her hands and wept.

Night Flight

Sunday Scribbling prompt: Beauty

“If you want to live, give me your hand.”

She crouched where she had fallen, her foot caught by a limb hidden under the snow.
She glared up at him. The dogs barking in the distance sounded closer than they had a few moments ago.

He looked down at her, hand outstretched. “Hurry!”

She reached up and he pulled her up behind him and they took off, him whispering to the horse now and then, urging him on.  She glanced behind and saw lights in the forest and heard the dogs.  They were flying through the trees now and the limbs were slapping her and her hair streaked out behind her as they moved with the wind.  She held him tighter though she was frozen and afraid her arms were too numb to know if they slipped from around his waist.  They sped east through the dusk as the sun was setting behind them.  She peered around him ahead and saw they were headed to a sheer cliff, the face rising high above them.  She could see no way around and he was not slowing his pace at all.  They were going to run into the solid rock!  She screamed at him “Are you insane? You’re going to kill us!” He just laughed and spurred the horse on faster.  “Hold on tight!” he yelled back at her and put his head down.  She laid her head down on his back and prayed. Ceana glanced up just as the horse leapt at the black rock.  She knew she was about to die so she closed her eyes and waited for the crash.

Seconds later they had landed on solid ground on the other side of the rock.  They had moved through it somehow!  Ceana opened her eyes slowly, afraid that she had passed over to the afterlife.  They were now racing along in a sunlit meadow.  The sun was warm and the wind was crisp and clean and She let go of him and held her arms straight out and lifted her face towards the beauty of the  sun.  Ceana was flying.  She laughed with the sheer joy of it.

Conall glanced back at her and knew with his entire soul, she was the one.

Friday Night Lights

Three Word Wednesday Accident, Loyal, Obscene

They were at the next table.  Two couples out for a little Italiano.  The guys?  Forgettable.  Looking like ex-high school football players, already showing the blurry future lines of a middle-aged paunch .  Glory days over, reality setting in, cocky smiles gone.  The girls used to line up waiting to cheer for them as they got off the bus. Cheerleaders and small town princess wanna-be’s hanging on every word they said.

The tables have turned now and the rules have changed. They defer to the ladies.  Tight jeans and Nikes have given way to spike heels and a taste for the expensive.   Khaki Dockers, starched and pressed western shirt, is with the taller brunette.  She has it all together.  Dressed all in black, she flips her hair back and smiles up at the waitress, talking just a little too loud.  Khaki squenches up his eyes just the tiniest bit at the volume. He is trying to be loyal to her but this obnoxious act is wearing thin.

Sunday jeans and cowboy boots is with the tiny one.  She had light brown hair pulled back into a clip, gold dangly earrings, innocent eyes.  He has the big goofy grin like he just can’t believe his good fortune.  She is going out with HIM!  Neither of them are having to say much.  Loud brunette girl is taking care of the conversation which is a relief to him.  Someone should throw a flag on the field for that play.

A lady with frosted big hair finished slurping her spaghetti and stood up to move around to a little keyboard.  She seated herself and thumbed through her music book and started playing Christmas songs, the half time show.

The waitress has seated them and for a moment I was busy with my own meal.  When I looked up  again, they were in the midst of ordering and little quiet girl is sitting with her back to me.  Her dress has a scoop neck back and the skin showing above the neckline is tattooed with angel wings.  I noticed this as I clearly heard her ask the waitress why they do not sell alcohol here. Cowboy boots is still grinning his obscene grin.  The waitress tells her they can bring their own and cowboy boots and khaki pants almost knock one another over trying to get out the door to bring her what she desires.  Crowd roars and horn blows, they’re  going in for a touchdown. Hoping to make the ladies happy. Khaki hoping to shut the brunette up.  Cowboy boots hoping he will get a peek at more than angel wings tonight.

Homecoming queens and kings in a northeast Texas town. The new Friday night lights.

The Stone

One Word: cone Sunday Scribbling : Oracle

The cone shaped stone sat in the center of their village. It had been there as long as the oldest of them could remember.  No one knew where it came from but the old ones whispered and crossed themselves whenever they had to walk past it.

One summer night when the lightening was burning in the velvet sky with no rain in sight, the stone began to glow.  The villagers came one by one to stand around it, not getting too close but needing to see.  There was a crackling sound in their midst and the strange one who was new, came walking out of the crowd.  Her hair was standing straight out from her head and sparks were flying out from her.  Her eyes were black and staring at something only she could see.  They backed away leaving a wide path for her.

She was barefoot and as she approached the stone, runes appeared all over the surface.  When she was almost to it, light sprung from the runes as though it was filled with lightening itself.  She reached both hands to touch it and she and it burst into a cold white flame that died almost as soon as it flared up.  The light momentarily blinded the villagers who had backed off screaming and covering their eyes.

As their sight returned, they fearfully looked upon the spot where the rock had stood for hundreds of years.  The rock was completely gone and now the girl with the lightening hair was laying on the ground and the delicate pattern of the runes from the stone was imprinted on her skin in lavender and blue.  The girl moaned and sat up.  Her hair was now snow white but she looked unharmed.

“What happened?” she asked, but all turned and ran back to their houses leaving her there alone, except for a wee child. “What do you want?” she asked the child.  The child pointed to the stream and the girl walked to the edge and looked down.  In the moment when the lightening shot across the sky she looked at her reflection in the water and lifted a hand to her face to touch.  When she turned around, the child was gone.

Two Men and a Lady

Saturday Scribes: Theme – Complicated

Carry on Tuesday

Three Word Wednesday errant hanker murky
Sunday Scribbling : interview

It was almost too easy.  Sean had typed up his notes on the interview and now he had a hankering for one of Joe’s pulled pork sandwiches.  He went to the coffee pot and stared at the murky dregs.  This pot had been made hours ago and looked like it. He dumped it in the sink and got a fresh filter and filled it.  He wiped up some grounds that had spilled onto the counter.  He thought about the conversation he had last night with her.  She would certainly be hired once his report was turned in.  The moment he pushed send on the email with that report attached, he would be committed.  They had been dating for a few months and he looked back in wonder.  Meeting her was  an accident.  Pursuing a relationship was done with purpose, in fact, with a vengeance.  Now he had to think about the future.  Could the relationship survive working together?  Danielle had promised that her support would move him up and that she would be right there helping him. He was already working on a plan for her “departure” if she didn’t follow through.

Danielle stopped in the ladies room before her next appointment.  She knew that Sean was in the office below making his little plans, but she had a few of her own.  She touched up her make-up and pushed an errant strand of hair back.  She smoothed out her skirt and took one last backwards glance in the mirror.  Smiling in satisfaction, she followed the hall to the corner office where the head of purchasing worked.  She smiled at his secretary and gave her name.  As she stepped through the door and quietly closed it behind her, Sean’s boss stepped from around the desk and took her hands.  She kissed him and smiled.  “You should be getting the report on my interview any time now.”  George was in his seventies and the last stroke had caused him to limp a little.  He smiled back at her.  She was covering all her bases.  It would be tricky balancing the two of them but George never left his floor and Sean could be handled.

George knew that any reason a woman like Danielle would be interested in him would not be his good looks and charm.  He had passed that stage long ago.  Whatever the reason was, she had a few talents and he intended to take advantage of those.  He read the message behind those carefully made up eyes.  She had her own agenda and thought she held all the cards.  He knew she was stringing along that idiot downstairs. He figured she was planning to play them against each other.  What he lacked in stamina, he made up for in experience.  He knew directions to take this game that were not even on her map.

Nanowrimo Happiness

Nanowrimo excerpt

There were some framed photos that must have sat on the mantle at one time.   Moisture had stained and faded them and the frames were broken.  A couch with dry rotted cushions sat in front of the fireplace where a family must have sat and watched the flames and maybe drank hot chocolate.  They left the living room and went down a hall to the kitchen.  Nothing much left here either but there was a door that led down to the cellar.  The wooden stairs were pretty rickety so Snowbie Joe told Boogie Man to wait upstairs for him.  He carefully tested each step making sure it would hold his weight.  He had to pull drapes of cobwebs down and he had a few moments panic as they caught in his hair and beard. Downstairs he found a hank of rope on a shelf and there were jars of jelly that someone had sealed and stored on wooden shelves.  He couldn’t believe they were still here and after brushing the dust off it looked like the jelly might still be good.  He called out to Boogie Man the whole time telling him what he had found.  “Go outside Buddy, to the window and I’ll pass stuff out to you.”

“Okay, Joe! Lands yes.  I can do that.”

Snowbie Joe stacked jars on a table he pushed under the cellar window and when he had as many as he thought they could carry, he climbed up on the table and started handing them out to Boogie Man.  He handed out his pack and heaved himself up and out the window, rather than chance the stairs again.  Boogie Man took his arms as he climbed through, and pulled him the rest of the way and stood him on his feet.
‘Thanks Buddy.”  Man, the guy was strong.
They both stuff jars of jelly in their packs.  “Buddy, maybe we should head back now, before it gets dark.”

They hauled their packs onto their shoulders and walked back through the town to the edge of the woods.  They went in about a hundred yards from where they had left the bike and walked back to the it from within the edge of the woods.  They hadn’t seen anyone but Snowbie Joe still had an eerie sense about the place.  They got to the bike and started working their way through the woods.  It was getting dark by the time they made it back to the cave and they had to wear the night goggles.

They emptied out their packs and cleaned off the jelly jars and stacked them in the corner.  Boogie Man had some cornmeal and he mixed up a  batter and baked it in an iron pan in the fire.  They ate it hot with strawberry jelly.  Snowbie Joe thought he had never tasted anything so fine.  For a few moments, the firelight, the sweet jelly on the warm cornbread, Boogie smiling as he licks gooey fingers.

Snowbie Joe feels something so foreign he can’t identify it.  It hits him. Happiness.  That’s what this was.  He tries to take it apart in his head. Figure out what it is.  Which piece fits where? What part could be taken away and the feeling remain?  Two sorry misfits in a cave with a fire and some strawberry jelly.  The craziness of it made him smile and Boogie man smiled back at him.

“We did good, Joe!”
“Yes, Buddy, we sure did.”

The Long Walk

Three Word Wednesday : karma, obey, wither and two days of one word: amber and shield with a little fiction in 58 thrown in with just a pinch of Carry On Tuesday.

He carried her for two miles.  She weighed next to nothing. She was his Amber and now she was gone.  He tried it the worlds’ way. He obeyed every rule he knew.  He did nothing to have karma spit on him  but here he was, with nothing to shield his heart that would wither and die without notice.

Adventure

Sunday Scribbling #187 prompt: adventure  One Word : clip

heading out
at a pretty good clip
we were young and prepared
so we thought
for the trip
they could bend us
not break us
or crush us
or shake us
we were young and prepared
so we thought
for the trip
but the road just got longer
and going got slower
and young and prepared
wasn’t always enough
the bending got painful
and we moaned and we cried
this ain’t what we paid for
this ain’t the right ride
and we found
that the ground
sometimes hurt
when we landed
we found that the sun
wasn’t always so sunny
we found that the turns
were quite sharp
when we spun out
The ups and downs were
lots higher and lower
and the hills got so steep
and the going got slower
but somehow the slowing
made way for the showing
of scenery that blurred
when we ran headfirst
and the slowing and showing
were the answers to questions
and questions for thinking
and loving and sinking
in sunsets and oceans
and summer deep starlight
in grieving and tears
and warm winter firelight
we finally saw
we finally learned
It’s not where we’re going
It’s all in the journey

Now back to nanowrimo 🙂

One Word Arrow

One Word: Arrow

He wanted to cover his ears and hide. His legs and arms shook with the effort and fear.  He pushed on, more afraid of standing still.   Men screamed and fell all around, a blur of browns and reds. He fit another arrow into his bow and let fly just as the dragon crossed  the sun.  It was pure luck that the shaft buried itself into the throat between two gold and green scales and with a shriek it plummeted to the ground crushing everything in it’s path.

One Word Can’t Cut It

One Word: Scissors, Three Word Wednesday: incubate nightmare vanity and a little bit of Carry On Tuesday.  Mixing all the flavors tonight.  A little Halloween something…

there was just enough light to see the glint, the shine, the oh my God they are sharp.  I tried to shrink back into the corner but I think she heard me breathing.  Nowhere left to go.

It started with a stupid idea. Just a drunken conversation one night and it had been sitting there, in the back of his mind incubating.  Now here he was in the middle of a nightmare.  It was nothing but vanity to think that she really liked him.  She was way out of his league and he knew it all along.

He knew he should have left before it got dark.  The stories always say they come out at night.  Always.  Just like the silly girl that hears the noise in the basement and goes to check.  You just know it’s a bad idea.  So why was he here?

It doesn’t matter why.  He thought it was the scissors that would get him but that wasn’t all that was gleaming in the dark.  Cold hands reached from behind to cover his eyes.  That silky voice, crooning now “Guess who.”

He stiffened.  He could try to run but where would he go?