Here are today's Words of the Week and since I'm about to scoot off to take my son to school and then head to water aerobics, I'll have to post my short story later this afternoon.
Prompt: Use the following words in an original work: short story, poem, journal entry, etc.. Feel free to share your work in the comments section below.
Floe: A sheet of flowing ice
Gibber: Speak rapidly and unintelligibly
Kudos: Praise, honor
Parable: A story told to illustrate a moral
Contusion: Bruise, Injury
_____________________________________________________________________
Early November on the coast was already freezing. Out in the distance, a gaggle of seagulls bobbed on the water like a floe of jagged ice. It wouldn't surprise me to see ice already; it was bitter cold or maybe that was just the constant black cloud over my head doing my thinking for me again.
I gripped the old beat up copy of Ella and Emma and their adventures in the attic; the beloved parable my mother was most proud of. As a little girl, I'd read the same story and wondered how two seemingly bright little girls could get into so much trouble in an attic and why they needed so much trouble to learn the simplest of lessons. Life shouldn't hurt this much.
I was a doctor, I helped people from simple contusions to delicate cardiac surgeries. Now here I was six months pregnant, listening to the gibber of the cold ocean tides as if they held some secret I needed to know. When had life gotten so messy?
"Momma," Max said, tugging on the sleeve of my sweater. He looked so much like his father in that instant I felt my heart slam into my chest.
"It's too cold out here for us." I took his hand and started back up the beach toward the road.
"Momma sad. Max loves Momma." He clapped his hands together and looked up at me with his father's big brown eyes.
For just a moment, that was all the kudos I needed to remember just how lucky I was despite what our family was going through.
Showing posts with label Words of the Week. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Words of the Week. Show all posts
Monday, September 26, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
Words of the Week (Mardi Gras)
Words of the Week is a writing prompt where you're given about five words to use in an original short story, poem, or journal entry. This weeks words are;
Cavalcade: A dramatic sequence or procession.
Lampoon: Publicly mock or ridicule
Noxious: Harmful, poisonous.
Jocular: Characterized by joking
Mutable: Prone to or capable of change
_________________________________________________________________
She watched the parade from the safety of her apartment balcony, relishing in the barely audible sound of classical piano playing from the speakers in her living room. It didn't match the tone of the cavalcade of performers or drunken onlookers below her. It was soothing, such a stark contrast to the noxious smell of sloshed beer that wafted below.
Anyone who knew her would suspect she loathed the annual parade through the streets below, but she rather enjoyed the sight of it. People hung out with their friends and family, laughing, drinking, joking. These people were free to let go and completely uninhibited. She longed to be that way, to feel the rush of blood from a spontaneous decision she knew was probably bad for her but refused to care.
She took a drink of wine right from the bottle. That was about as wild as she was capable of. Most people were mutable, able to adapt to change, but how long had she been living in the Big Easy? She'd yet to experience anything but gumbo and live blues music.
She watched a group of guys below her apartment yelling at a group of college girls who'd just won Mardi Gras beads. Purple and green strands hung from their necks as they took another swig of something in a brown paper bag. One of the guys dared to cross the street and ask for a phone number or a one night stand. She couldn't be sure which, but the girl's answer had been no either way. Red faced, the college guy went back to his friends and of course was lampooned with hearty laughter and jokes she wished she could hear from her perch above them.
____________________________________________________________
Can you use all five words in a short original work?
Cavalcade: A dramatic sequence or procession.
Lampoon: Publicly mock or ridicule
Noxious: Harmful, poisonous.
Jocular: Characterized by joking
Mutable: Prone to or capable of change
_________________________________________________________________
She watched the parade from the safety of her apartment balcony, relishing in the barely audible sound of classical piano playing from the speakers in her living room. It didn't match the tone of the cavalcade of performers or drunken onlookers below her. It was soothing, such a stark contrast to the noxious smell of sloshed beer that wafted below.
Anyone who knew her would suspect she loathed the annual parade through the streets below, but she rather enjoyed the sight of it. People hung out with their friends and family, laughing, drinking, joking. These people were free to let go and completely uninhibited. She longed to be that way, to feel the rush of blood from a spontaneous decision she knew was probably bad for her but refused to care.
She took a drink of wine right from the bottle. That was about as wild as she was capable of. Most people were mutable, able to adapt to change, but how long had she been living in the Big Easy? She'd yet to experience anything but gumbo and live blues music.
She watched a group of guys below her apartment yelling at a group of college girls who'd just won Mardi Gras beads. Purple and green strands hung from their necks as they took another swig of something in a brown paper bag. One of the guys dared to cross the street and ask for a phone number or a one night stand. She couldn't be sure which, but the girl's answer had been no either way. Red faced, the college guy went back to his friends and of course was lampooned with hearty laughter and jokes she wished she could hear from her perch above them.
____________________________________________________________
Can you use all five words in a short original work?
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Vocabulary Building
Words of the week: Kame, Blase, Neb, Tram, Quaver, Unco, Wonk, Cheeky
We rested near the bottom of a kame. I breathed deep, letting the frigid air burn in my lungs. My body quavered only a moment as my limbs rested for the first time all day. Aidan stood behind me, his shadow revealing just how annoyed he was by my less than enthusastic inability to keep up.
"Are we about bloody ready?" he asked in that English accent that would have been cute if he weren't such a ... what did he call me earlier? a wonk! What the hell was a wonk? He said I was better suited to sit behind a desk and answer obscure engineer questions. Apparently women could be book smart but had little ability to survive the elements in his opinion. Well excuse me for not being so blase about the whole stuck in the middle of nowhere with way below freezing temperatures.
"Yeah, ready to get this over with," I answered, rolling my eyes.
"You're a bit cheeky for a girl who depends on me to get her back to the helicopter without losing any limbs to frost bite or chilblains," he laughed.
"I just want to get this over with. Let's hurry. You and I both know a tram here is impossible. There's no way to keep that kind of transportation running in this environment. Now lets convince my bosses of that," I stood, my body feeling numb since the blood had slowed. I flexed my fingers and toes, bending at the knee to get the circulation flowing again.
He turned away from me and began leading the way once again. I fell in line behind him, watching the red colored rope slide across the surface of the snow as we walked, always in sync. He'd slowed his pace so that I could keep up with him, and he'd taken on more gear than he normally would have. At least that was sweet of him.
"We don't get many visitors out here. Kinda nice to see a unco once in a while. Can you imagine living here six months at a time?" he called over his shoulder as the wind whipped across the desolate snow covered earth.
No, I couldn't, but since he wasn't being a jerk for once I decided not to tell him that. He knew the answer anyways. The whole outdoor thing wasn't exactly my style. I prefered books and strategically working out dilemmas on paper. Why the higher-ups decided to send me to a frozen hell was beyond my scope of understanding. But at least he and I got to share one of those little yellow tents. No matter how cold it was outside, it was warm inside there with him.
"Look out there at that snowy owl. Do you see it?" he asked, stopping just inches ahead of me. I gazed out on the glistening snow and could barely make out the slight movement of the bird. "He is hunting. Those are the vultures of the tundra. Anything that fits in their neb is fair game."
I shuttered at the tone of his voice. Two more days in this godforsaken ice country.
We rested near the bottom of a kame. I breathed deep, letting the frigid air burn in my lungs. My body quavered only a moment as my limbs rested for the first time all day. Aidan stood behind me, his shadow revealing just how annoyed he was by my less than enthusastic inability to keep up.
"Are we about bloody ready?" he asked in that English accent that would have been cute if he weren't such a ... what did he call me earlier? a wonk! What the hell was a wonk? He said I was better suited to sit behind a desk and answer obscure engineer questions. Apparently women could be book smart but had little ability to survive the elements in his opinion. Well excuse me for not being so blase about the whole stuck in the middle of nowhere with way below freezing temperatures.
"Yeah, ready to get this over with," I answered, rolling my eyes.
"You're a bit cheeky for a girl who depends on me to get her back to the helicopter without losing any limbs to frost bite or chilblains," he laughed.
"I just want to get this over with. Let's hurry. You and I both know a tram here is impossible. There's no way to keep that kind of transportation running in this environment. Now lets convince my bosses of that," I stood, my body feeling numb since the blood had slowed. I flexed my fingers and toes, bending at the knee to get the circulation flowing again.
He turned away from me and began leading the way once again. I fell in line behind him, watching the red colored rope slide across the surface of the snow as we walked, always in sync. He'd slowed his pace so that I could keep up with him, and he'd taken on more gear than he normally would have. At least that was sweet of him.
"We don't get many visitors out here. Kinda nice to see a unco once in a while. Can you imagine living here six months at a time?" he called over his shoulder as the wind whipped across the desolate snow covered earth.
No, I couldn't, but since he wasn't being a jerk for once I decided not to tell him that. He knew the answer anyways. The whole outdoor thing wasn't exactly my style. I prefered books and strategically working out dilemmas on paper. Why the higher-ups decided to send me to a frozen hell was beyond my scope of understanding. But at least he and I got to share one of those little yellow tents. No matter how cold it was outside, it was warm inside there with him.
"Look out there at that snowy owl. Do you see it?" he asked, stopping just inches ahead of me. I gazed out on the glistening snow and could barely make out the slight movement of the bird. "He is hunting. Those are the vultures of the tundra. Anything that fits in their neb is fair game."
I shuttered at the tone of his voice. Two more days in this godforsaken ice country.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Words of the Week
Words of the week: Oneiric, Mores, Abscond, Flummery, Circumlocution, Vicissitude, Tchotchke, Inscrutable
I could have used the excuse of having to talk about business but the feeling of his hand over mine, his fingertips grazing my hand, I could think of nothing but the desire he made me feel. Mother and Daddy would both have been disappointed in me but I couldn't help what I felt. The mores of high society were clearly drawn in this regard---a man could have an affair and survive the fallout but a woman could not be the mistress and live with dignity.
Still, the thought of walking away from him and pretending that whatever chemistry I felt was nonexistent was all but inscrutable. If Faith were there she'd tell me I was playing with fire and likely to get burned. She might have told me that I wasn't ready to be an affair and I'd tell her that wasn't what I wanted.
He parked the car in front of an area of the beach that looked to be nothing but fun in the darkness of the night. A fire blazed with a few people standing around it. Guys were scattered around the area, all laughing and talking. A Frisbee was being thrown and tossed around, the bright green orb hypnotic in the dark sky.
We strolled down the beach, our hands dangling so close to one another that another centimeter or two and we would have been holding hands. The whole length of our walk I heard people referring to me as "Marcus' girlfriend".
"Marcus' girlfriend. Seems funny hearing those words together. I don't think I've ever heard that phrase uttered aloud." Kevin laughed. He led me to a beach towel spread halfway between the surf and the fire. He sat next to me, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"I'm surprised people have given me the title. Marcus and I are just friends." I was tempted to tell him I was just recently out of a long term relationship but I refrained. From what I gathered from Marcus, even jocks read the tabloids and I'd been at the center of them for a long time.
Off to my left I could hear a man spewing a mouthful of flummery in an attempt to get his girlfriend to forgive him for some indiscretion. From the sound of the conversation, he would be sleeping on the couch or the doorway when he got home.
"We've had some wild and crazy times on the road. When you think about a bunch of guys on the road more than they're home with high testosterone and beautiful women falling down to get a chance for a night with one of us---that was Marcus' favorite part of the fame. That's a lot of guys favorite part." Kevin's voice was almost oneiric as if he were thinking back on some sordid mistake of his own.
"Your favorite part?" I asked, not really thinking about the question. I leaned closer, our eyes locked. The glow of the fire left his eyes looking like warm amber and I was completely transfixed by him.
For a moment he was silent, contemplating what to say. If I hadn't seen the sincerity burning in those eyes I might have guessed he was making up an appropriate answer. "My favorite part is providing for my family. I have three children. I have no worries for their future."
That was territory I knew nothing about. A man with children thinking about college. A man with a wife. A man who was probably old enough to be my father or at least a young uncle. It hadn't come up, but I guessed him at about forty.
"Faith tells me you're married. Have you had a chance to talk with your wife about our business proposal?" I hoped it sounded like a reasonable question but I wasn't quite sure if it worked. When I glanced away from him to the fire I could feel my thoughts as plainly as if I'd given them voice. Mother had taught me circumlocution as a tactful art but I'd forgotten the lesson under his gaze.
"Ah. Faith Holloway. Your friend is something else. Some weeks in the locker rooms are so tense with feuds because of her that we're lucky a match doesn't break out there." He didn't answer the question.
So I watched the surf crashing against the shore in an ill patterened vicissitude. Reaching so far up shore just to wallow back to the ocean. Salty foam exploding on the sand with each crash. Behind us, some 80's rock ballad drifted on the breeze.
When Kevin offered his hand I couldn't help myself. He was what I wanted. A dance. Any reason to get closer to him---to get close enough that our bodies touched and no one could read anything into it but an innocent dance. Oh, what I would give to abscond from the beach with him, to hide ourselves away in some little cove without peering eyes and only the moon to witness my desires.
His arms came around me. One big hand rested firmly on my back while the other cupped my right hand. Glowing embers from the fire cast shadows across us but his eyes were glowing with what I thought was the same desire and warmth I felt. Every ounce of my being wanted to fall into his arms and nestle against his massive chest, greedily inhale the scent of him, and press my lips against the warmth of his own.
Every instinct told me to run. Kevin was a married man and I was not the kind of woman to break up a home. I knew all too well just how devastating unfaithfulness could be.
"Having you hear tonight has made this little get together bearable." Kevin's voice was deep and husky.
"You're definitely a tempting man, Mr. O'Donnell." I whispered back. Slowly, I looked up and the moon caught my eyes. All the noise of the music and the voices and the rolling ocean waves seemed to disappear. My heart thundered in my chest. Even my skin tingled with anticipation as our lips moved closer, hovering mere centimeters apart. One big hand came up to my face, caressing my cheek as he ever so slowly pulled me closer to his kiss.
Only a millisecond from experiencing the only thing in the past six months I could truly recall craving, I heard that voice screech over the music. "Hey, Alexis, look what I picked up for you."
Both Kevin and I had to pull away from one another. Marcus was traipsing down the beach towards us, completely oblivious to what he'd just approached. Dangling from his fingertips, some tourist tchotchke necklace of sand shells.
"Don't be trying to steal my girl from me." Marcus smiled, still oblivious to the fact that I couldn't tear myself away from Kevin.
I could have used the excuse of having to talk about business but the feeling of his hand over mine, his fingertips grazing my hand, I could think of nothing but the desire he made me feel. Mother and Daddy would both have been disappointed in me but I couldn't help what I felt. The mores of high society were clearly drawn in this regard---a man could have an affair and survive the fallout but a woman could not be the mistress and live with dignity.
Still, the thought of walking away from him and pretending that whatever chemistry I felt was nonexistent was all but inscrutable. If Faith were there she'd tell me I was playing with fire and likely to get burned. She might have told me that I wasn't ready to be an affair and I'd tell her that wasn't what I wanted.
He parked the car in front of an area of the beach that looked to be nothing but fun in the darkness of the night. A fire blazed with a few people standing around it. Guys were scattered around the area, all laughing and talking. A Frisbee was being thrown and tossed around, the bright green orb hypnotic in the dark sky.
We strolled down the beach, our hands dangling so close to one another that another centimeter or two and we would have been holding hands. The whole length of our walk I heard people referring to me as "Marcus' girlfriend".
"Marcus' girlfriend. Seems funny hearing those words together. I don't think I've ever heard that phrase uttered aloud." Kevin laughed. He led me to a beach towel spread halfway between the surf and the fire. He sat next to me, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"I'm surprised people have given me the title. Marcus and I are just friends." I was tempted to tell him I was just recently out of a long term relationship but I refrained. From what I gathered from Marcus, even jocks read the tabloids and I'd been at the center of them for a long time.
Off to my left I could hear a man spewing a mouthful of flummery in an attempt to get his girlfriend to forgive him for some indiscretion. From the sound of the conversation, he would be sleeping on the couch or the doorway when he got home.
"We've had some wild and crazy times on the road. When you think about a bunch of guys on the road more than they're home with high testosterone and beautiful women falling down to get a chance for a night with one of us---that was Marcus' favorite part of the fame. That's a lot of guys favorite part." Kevin's voice was almost oneiric as if he were thinking back on some sordid mistake of his own.
"Your favorite part?" I asked, not really thinking about the question. I leaned closer, our eyes locked. The glow of the fire left his eyes looking like warm amber and I was completely transfixed by him.
For a moment he was silent, contemplating what to say. If I hadn't seen the sincerity burning in those eyes I might have guessed he was making up an appropriate answer. "My favorite part is providing for my family. I have three children. I have no worries for their future."
That was territory I knew nothing about. A man with children thinking about college. A man with a wife. A man who was probably old enough to be my father or at least a young uncle. It hadn't come up, but I guessed him at about forty.
"Faith tells me you're married. Have you had a chance to talk with your wife about our business proposal?" I hoped it sounded like a reasonable question but I wasn't quite sure if it worked. When I glanced away from him to the fire I could feel my thoughts as plainly as if I'd given them voice. Mother had taught me circumlocution as a tactful art but I'd forgotten the lesson under his gaze.
"Ah. Faith Holloway. Your friend is something else. Some weeks in the locker rooms are so tense with feuds because of her that we're lucky a match doesn't break out there." He didn't answer the question.
So I watched the surf crashing against the shore in an ill patterened vicissitude. Reaching so far up shore just to wallow back to the ocean. Salty foam exploding on the sand with each crash. Behind us, some 80's rock ballad drifted on the breeze.
When Kevin offered his hand I couldn't help myself. He was what I wanted. A dance. Any reason to get closer to him---to get close enough that our bodies touched and no one could read anything into it but an innocent dance. Oh, what I would give to abscond from the beach with him, to hide ourselves away in some little cove without peering eyes and only the moon to witness my desires.
His arms came around me. One big hand rested firmly on my back while the other cupped my right hand. Glowing embers from the fire cast shadows across us but his eyes were glowing with what I thought was the same desire and warmth I felt. Every ounce of my being wanted to fall into his arms and nestle against his massive chest, greedily inhale the scent of him, and press my lips against the warmth of his own.
Every instinct told me to run. Kevin was a married man and I was not the kind of woman to break up a home. I knew all too well just how devastating unfaithfulness could be.
"Having you hear tonight has made this little get together bearable." Kevin's voice was deep and husky.
"You're definitely a tempting man, Mr. O'Donnell." I whispered back. Slowly, I looked up and the moon caught my eyes. All the noise of the music and the voices and the rolling ocean waves seemed to disappear. My heart thundered in my chest. Even my skin tingled with anticipation as our lips moved closer, hovering mere centimeters apart. One big hand came up to my face, caressing my cheek as he ever so slowly pulled me closer to his kiss.
Only a millisecond from experiencing the only thing in the past six months I could truly recall craving, I heard that voice screech over the music. "Hey, Alexis, look what I picked up for you."
Both Kevin and I had to pull away from one another. Marcus was traipsing down the beach towards us, completely oblivious to what he'd just approached. Dangling from his fingertips, some tourist tchotchke necklace of sand shells.
"Don't be trying to steal my girl from me." Marcus smiled, still oblivious to the fact that I couldn't tear myself away from Kevin.
Words of the Week
Words: Pelf, Vim, Falchion, Alow, Juxtapose, Orpine, Kuchen, Nix
Faith was full of more vim and vigor than she had been in the past week. Perhaps it was all those one night stands I heard thumping across my bedroom ceiling the past couple days. Sometimes I had no idea how she managed not to walk bowlegged.
"So you're stuck on him, aren't you?" She asked, plucking a plastic falchion from a bumbershoot before laughing at the price and dropping back.
"Kevin and I are just co-workers. That's it." I couldn't help the grin that tugged at the corners of my mouth. After that weekend on the beach I was more attracted to him than ever but still found it hard to tell Marcus goodbye.
I popped a bite of fresh kuchen in my mouth as I browsed the bucket labled "2 for 1" We were sorely out of place with Faith's designer shades and six inch summer stilletos. People were whispering all around us, watching us as if we'd stopped at this neighborhood sale just to poke fun of them with our status and pelf.
A young girl of no more than sixteen pointed her finger at us with complete recognition. "You're Alexis Mitchell and Faith Holloway." She practically screamed.
Our identies Faith had not tried to protect at all had been blown. Immediately people stopped their browsing and inserted themselves in the situation. People began to juxtapose themselves around us, flanking us like we were on display. Faith loved the attention. She always had. I however, had had enough of the limelight.
With my divorce making headlines and my new relationship with Marcus coming under scrutiny I would give my right arm to not have any public interference in my life.
Grabbing Faith at the elbow, I found our way out of the throng of people and back to the car. "Why'd you nix the fun? That guy was totally going to give me his phone number!" She threw her blonde hair back and admired her clevage before applying a sheen of lipgloss over her lips.
"Every guy gives you their number." I tossed back at her.
"You're just bitchy because you're stuck making ga-ga eyes at a married man. Hang some orpine over your bed. It's a love potion." She rolled her wrist in the wind as I sped from our parking space and down the street into anonymity once again.
"No, I'm pretty sure orpine was used as a charm to ward away lightning." I mocked her, afraid to admit she was right. Part of my mood was the fact that I had to fight this incredible attraction to a man I knew was off limits.
As the sun set off in the west, the warm summer air passing through the windows, I couldn't help but think about the feelings I needed to bury deep in the alow of my mind.
I had to forget how enticing his long sandy blonde hair could be and how tempting the graying temples were. I had to forget those big brown eyes. Had to stop thinking of the way his goatee fell on his jaw. Had to forget the way those massive fingertips of his had felt caressing my back as we danced on the beach.
I had to forget.
Faith was full of more vim and vigor than she had been in the past week. Perhaps it was all those one night stands I heard thumping across my bedroom ceiling the past couple days. Sometimes I had no idea how she managed not to walk bowlegged.
"So you're stuck on him, aren't you?" She asked, plucking a plastic falchion from a bumbershoot before laughing at the price and dropping back.
"Kevin and I are just co-workers. That's it." I couldn't help the grin that tugged at the corners of my mouth. After that weekend on the beach I was more attracted to him than ever but still found it hard to tell Marcus goodbye.
I popped a bite of fresh kuchen in my mouth as I browsed the bucket labled "2 for 1" We were sorely out of place with Faith's designer shades and six inch summer stilletos. People were whispering all around us, watching us as if we'd stopped at this neighborhood sale just to poke fun of them with our status and pelf.
A young girl of no more than sixteen pointed her finger at us with complete recognition. "You're Alexis Mitchell and Faith Holloway." She practically screamed.
Our identies Faith had not tried to protect at all had been blown. Immediately people stopped their browsing and inserted themselves in the situation. People began to juxtapose themselves around us, flanking us like we were on display. Faith loved the attention. She always had. I however, had had enough of the limelight.
With my divorce making headlines and my new relationship with Marcus coming under scrutiny I would give my right arm to not have any public interference in my life.
Grabbing Faith at the elbow, I found our way out of the throng of people and back to the car. "Why'd you nix the fun? That guy was totally going to give me his phone number!" She threw her blonde hair back and admired her clevage before applying a sheen of lipgloss over her lips.
"Every guy gives you their number." I tossed back at her.
"You're just bitchy because you're stuck making ga-ga eyes at a married man. Hang some orpine over your bed. It's a love potion." She rolled her wrist in the wind as I sped from our parking space and down the street into anonymity once again.
"No, I'm pretty sure orpine was used as a charm to ward away lightning." I mocked her, afraid to admit she was right. Part of my mood was the fact that I had to fight this incredible attraction to a man I knew was off limits.
As the sun set off in the west, the warm summer air passing through the windows, I couldn't help but think about the feelings I needed to bury deep in the alow of my mind.
I had to forget how enticing his long sandy blonde hair could be and how tempting the graying temples were. I had to forget those big brown eyes. Had to stop thinking of the way his goatee fell on his jaw. Had to forget the way those massive fingertips of his had felt caressing my back as we danced on the beach.
I had to forget.
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