OLWG #104- The Bachelorette Party

This week’s prompts are at the bottom.
Practice makes perfect. Let me know what you think.

Here’s how to play along, if you are unsure.



Mavis leaned closer and studied her reflection in the mirror. She was drunk and her makeup was a mess, but the dress looked good. Her wedding dress lay on the bed behind her and she could see it in the mirror. She turned her head and looked at the wind up alarm clock on the dresser it was 7:00 AM. Still three hours till her wedding.

She had partied last night with her bridesmaids and her maid of honour. What had been planned as a dinner at La Paloma had turned into dinner at La Paloma, a few drinks at Sinvergüenzas on ‘D’ Street, and finally visiting the after hour joints down by the train station. It was almost 6:00 when she had stumbled home held up between Eileen and some shirtless man who looked familiar but whose name she didn’t know.

Now Eileen was in the bathroom, vomiting from the sounds of it, and the shirtless man was sleeping in the middle of her front lawn.

She needed coffee and a shower, the wedding was at 10:00.

She picked up her phone and dialed her mother, “Momma, bring coffee. Bring lots of coffee. Hurry.”

She put down the phone and went into the bathroom. Gagging she pulled her maid of honour into the shower and turned on the cold water. Eileen screamed and tried to bolt. Mavis held her in the water and then climbed in with her, slowly peeling off her clothes.

Just as Mavis was beginning to feel a little bit better her Momma opened the bathroom door. “¡Híjole, qué tarde!” Momma exclaimed, “What’s going on here?”

“We had a little too much to drink last night Momma, we need coffee and help getting dressed.”

“Hijita, you are getting married this morning.”

“I know Momma, I know. I’m about to become Mavis Davis,” she pressed her index fingers to her temples as her mother began to laugh. “Derik is a good man Mavis. He’s a good man with a promising future. Don’t screw this up.”

“I’ll be OK, Momma. Take care of Eileen, please.” She grabbed a towel and moved back to the bedroom to look at her dress and clean the old makeup off her face.


This week’s prompts are:

  1. can we trust them?
  2. Maddie was a nice girl
  3. just another one

Go ahead and dive in, set your imagination free!
Write something
Ready, Set, Go – you have 25 minutes, but if that is not possible, take as long as you need and, have fun!

 

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OLWG #103- Fishin’

This week’s prompts are at the bottom.
Practice makes perfect. Let me know what you think.

Here’s how to play along, if you are unsure.



Picture Bennett sitting in a camping chair with a fishing pole in one hand and a Budweiser in the other. He is shirtless… cutoff jeans… water shoes.

A young boy sits on the bank next to him and digs through a picnic basket as Bennett watches the river flow.

Bennett’s attention is drawn to the boy and he watches him searching for a moment. Then, he clears his throat, waves a mosquito away from his ear.

“How’s school, Kevin?”

“It’s OK, Dad.”

“What’s your favourite subject?”

“It changes from time to time, but right now I guess its Science. We’re studying the universe. Stars, planets, black holes, white dwarfs, light years, things like that. It’s pretty cool.”

“Light years, huh? What’s a light year?”

“You don’t know what a light year is, Dad?”

“’Course I do, boy. A light year is ah, well it’s, I reckon it might be the same as a regular year, only one third fewer calories.”

Their laughter cuts off when Bennett’s line goes taught. The fish starts to run.


This week’s prompts are:

  1. treat him like a sister
  2. In case of fire
  3. getting out of hand

Go ahead and dive in, set your imagination free!
Write something
Ready, Set, Go – you have 25 minutes, but if that is not possible, take as long as you need and, have fun!

 

OLWG #102- The Trade

This week’s prompts are at the bottom.
Practice makes perfect. Let me know what you think.

Here’s how to play along, if you are unsure.



Some of you who know me, or who have read enough of my postings, are aware of the fact that I am a submariner. Submarines have been around for a long time, though not as long as poetry. I thought I might bring to your attention the existence of a famous submarine poem ‘The Trade’ from the book “Sea Warfare” (1916) by Rudyard Kipling : A combination of prose and poetry, kinda like a haibun; only different.

The term ‘The Trade’ refers to the submarine service. The part of “Sea Warfare” from which this is derived consists of three articles that Kipling wrote about British submarine activities, published in The Times, between 21 and 28 June 1916. As published in the book, they are preceded by a verse, “The Trade”.

###

THEY bear, in place of classic names,
Letters and numbers on their skin.
They play their grisly blindfold games
In little boxes made of tin.
Sometimes they stalk the Zeppelin,
Sometimes they learn where mines are laid,
Or where the Baltic ice is thin.
That is the custom of “The Trade.”

Few prize-courts sit upon their claims.
They seldom tow their targets in.
They follow certain secret aims
Down under, Far from strife or din.
When they are ready to begin
No flag is flown, no fuss is made
More than the shearing of a pin.
That is the custom of “The Trade.”

The Scout’s quadruple funnel flames
A mark from Sweden to the Swin,
The Cruiser’s thund’rous screw proclaims
Her comings out and goings in:
But only whiffs of paraffin
Or creamy rings that fizz and fade
Show where the one-eyed Death has been
That is the custom of “The Trade.”

Their feats, their fortunes and their fames
Are hidden from their nearest kin;
No eager public backs or blames,
No journal prints the yarn they spin
(The Censor would not let it in! )
When they return from run or raid.
Unheard they work, unseen they win.
That is the custom of “The Trade.”


This week’s prompts are:

  1. Do the authorities know you’re here?
  2. as you slept
  3. what became of forever?

Go ahead and dive in, set your imagination free!
Write something
Ready, Set, Go – you have 25 minutes, but if that is not possible, take as long as you need and, have fun!

 

OLWG #101- Miss Chalmers

This week’s prompts are at the bottom.
Practice makes perfect. Let me know what you think.

Here’s how to play along, if you are unsure.



When she returned she was pushing a small wooden cart with wooden wheels that squeaked when she pushed it across the floor. It went cheep, cheep, cheep. Miss Chalmers’ smile was wide and her teeth were impossibly white and she motioned me to a camelback sofa opposite her desk. I took a seat and laid my greatcoat over the arm.

Atop the wooden coffee cart was a silver tray, porcelain cups and a small silver coffee pot with a Sterno flame beneath it. Miss Chalmers placed a pair of delicate cups and saucers on the low table in front of me. They were handpainted, flowers of some sort. Certainly not a variety I had ever seen. I thought I should ask her about them. What kind of flowers they were, but I didn’t.

I watched her lift the coffee pot, holding the handle with one hand and a white towel in the other. She poured the brew into one of the cups and delicately wiped the front of the pot with the cloth. She put a cream pitcher and a sugar bowl on the table as well. The sugar bowl held cubes and there were small tongs to pick the sugar up with.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Would you mind if I joined you?” she asked, and I waved her over. She almost scurried around the low table and perched on the sofa, keeping a proper distance between us.

She poured herself a cup and then lifted her saucer, balancing the cup, holding it steady and not spilling a drop. She added two cubes of sugar and a drop of cream and sat ramrod straight in her place on the couch.

“How much do you know about the position you have been selected for, Mr Dolan?” she asked.

“Please call me Tom,” I answered.

“I’m more comfortable calling you Mr Dolan if that’s alright with you,” she flashed her bright smile again.

“Whatever suits you, Miss Chalmers,” I replied getting into character, feeling like an actor in an old black and white movie. Something noir, maybe starring Humphrey Bogart and Claude Rains. In my imagination, Miss Chalmers was morphing into Ingrid Bergman. “What will I call you?”

She continued, “After we’re done here we’ll get you settled into ‘Number 27’. This morning we have some forms for you to sign and a few documents for you to read, but we should be finished for the day relatively early. You can call me Miss Chalmers. Do you have any other questions for me?”

“How do you keep it warm here, Miss Chalmers? Will it be warm at ‘Number 27’?”

She finished her cup and placed it back on the silver tray along with the sugar bowl and cream pitcher.

“Well,” she began, “it’s warm here because of our proximity to the generator. Number 27 will not be as warm as it is here, but it will be better than anything you have been accustomed to since the war.” She walked delicately back to her desk where she picked up a file folder that was about an inch thick and carried it back to her spot on the sofa. Opening the folder she removed the first sheet of paper.

“Should we get some of the preliminaries out of the way first?” she asked.

“Whatever you say.”

“This is a standard liability waiver,” she said leaning over so that I could see the swell of her breasts and look down her blouse, “It simply spells out that you have been advised of the risks accompanying your new position here, and that you release The Government of any and all liability that may be associated with same.” She set the paper down in front of me, “You need to sign, here,” she pointed at the appropriate spot, “and initial here, and here.” She handed me a pen.


This week’s prompts are:

  1. los pobrecitos
  2. the present was poorly wrapped
  3. bottle of emotions

Go ahead and dive in, set your imagination free!
Write something
Ready, Set, Go – you have 25 minutes, but if that is not possible, take as long as you need and, have fun!

 

OLWG #100- Scoundrel

 This week’s prompts are at the bottom. Practice makes perfect. Let me know what you think. Oh, and look at that – it’s number 100!

Here’s how to play along, if you are unsure.



They had been arguing when she spat her words onto the table where they lay beside the sugar bowl. She stood, then; and spun on her heel to walk from the kitchen down the hallway. He looked down and saw what she had said. Two words glared up from the tablecloth, ‘I’m’ and ‘leaving’.

He panicked as she returned from the back of the house with her raincoat and purse. Her car keys were jangling from a finger as she headed for the garage door.

He stood and then sank back down into his chair, she paused, “Olivia, honey – please don’t go,” he softly pleaded. “I can change. I can… you’re everything to me. She didn’t mean anything. It was nothing. I’ll break it off with her. I promise, just don’t leave me.”

Olivia narrowed her eyes and glared at him and then stepping back into the kitchen strode across the wooden floor. She swerved around him and headed to the other side of the table where she knelt down and rummaged beneath the sideboard for a moment. Finally, she stood and tossed three more words amongst the breakfast dishes with her original two.

She added ‘work,’ ‘for,’ and ‘now’

“We’ve got a lot to talk about when I get home tonight, Aaron.” She straightened up, crossed the room and stepped into the garage without another word.

She slammed the door.

The gravity of what had happened sunk in as he heard the opener lift the heavy door. He listened to her heels cross the concrete floor. His head fell into his hands as she closed the door of her Prius and backed down the drive. When the garage slipped closed again he studied her words lying on the table, reaching out he moved them around, “I’m leaving for work now.” Those last three must have slid across the table to the floor and under the credenza. Damnit, why hadn’t he seen them earlier?

How was he going to be able to talk his way out of this?


This week’s prompts are:

  1. I won’t let them
  2. the sound died
  3. the crack of noon

Go ahead and dive in, set your imagination free!
Write something
Ready, Set, Go – you have 25 minutes, but if that is not possible, take as long as you need and, have fun!

 

OLWG #99- Blind Bunny, Blind Snake – An Easter Story

 This week’s prompts are at the bottom. Practice makes perfect. Let me know what you think.

Here’s how to play along, if you are unsure.



Once upon a time, in a deep dark forest where everything was spookier than it should be; there lived a young blind orphan bunny rabbit, named Sebastian.

Sebastian lived in a hollow log not far from a stream where soft leafy ferns and wild asparagus grew in abundance. His life was OK, but he was lonely

Not far away from Sebastian’s hollow log lived a snake whose name was Esme. By coincidence Esme, the snake was also a blind orphan animal. In fact she was exactly the same as Sebastian except that she was a girl snake who lived beneath a rock in a clearing and Sebastian was a boy rabbit who lived in a hollow log near a stream. Both of them had been blind since birth.

One day, Sebastian decided to go looking for a friend. Someone he could share a meal with, talk to, maybe even engage in a rousing game of dominos or Conquian Rummy with. To put it bluntly he wanted a companion. He set out, hopping through the forest and soon enough found himself in Esme, the snake’s, clearing. She heard him crashing through the underbrush.

“Halt, who goes there?” shouted Esme the snake.

“It’s just me, Sebastian,” Sebastian said, “I hope I didn’t startle you. I’m not very good at being quiet. You see, I’ve been blind since birth and I run into stuff a lot.”

“What manner of creature are you?” Esme asked. Remember, she’s blind too and can’t see Sebastian, she can only hear him.

“I’m not sure what I am,” Sebastian answered, “I’m an orphan. I’ve never been told. I never knew my mother or my father.”

Damn, Esme thought to herself. This Sebastian character and I have a lot in common. Maybe we can help each other out.

Tentatively Esme extended an olive branch and said, “Believe it or not, Sebastian, my story is a lot like yours. I, have also been blind since birth and never knew my parents. Why don’t you come over here and let me slither all over you. Maybe I can figure out what you are.”

“Great idea,” Sebastian said, “You’d do that for me?”

“Sure,” said Esme, “I’m over here. Just follow the sound of my voice.”

Esme slithered all over Sebastian and said, Dude, you’re all furry, with long ears, and a twitchy nose. I’d guess that you’re a rabbit – Specifically a bunny rabbit. Hey! Maybe you’re the Easter Bunny? What day is it?”

“Wow, a rabbit is a cool thing to be. You think I might really be a rabbit? I don’t know nothing about no Easter Bunny, though.” Sebastian said, “Would that be a good thing? It might be Sunday, but I’m not really sure.

“While you were slithering around on me I couldn’t help but notice a few things about you. I think I know what you are too.”

“Ohhh, do tell,” Esme pleaded anxiously.

Sebastian leaned back and said “It seems that you’re smooth and slippery, you have a forked tongue and no backbone.  I’d say you must be either a team leader or maybe even someone in senior management. Do you know how to play 40 card Conquian? Or maybe dominoes?”


This week’s prompts are:

  1. I’m broken
  2. one for the road
  3. That’s not what I do

Go ahead and dive in, set your imagination free!
Write something
Ready, Set, Go – you have 25 minutes, but if that is not possible, take as long as you need and, have fun!

 

OLWG #98- Bad Dog

 This week’s prompts are at the bottom. Practice makes perfect. Let me know what you think.

Here’s how to play along, if you are unsure.



It was pretty surreal and I was having a hard time getting my mind around it. The room seemed like a waiting room, like in a dentist’s office or something. There were four people, besides me there and, like me, they were all seated on uncomfortable chairs pushed up against the walls. The chairs had chrome legs and black leatherette seats. The backs matched the seats. There might have been six more of them in the room; unoccupied. A low table was positioned in front of the longest bank of chairs with a stack of Popular Mechanics at one end and Better Homes and Gardens at the other. There was a large ashtray in the centre. A cigarette butt had been crushed out and now lay cold, lending a distinctive aroma to the room.

The dominant feature on the wall across from me was a large sliding window. A woman I would put in her early thirties sat behind the window. She might have been a receptionist, but she seemed occupied with her manicure and cracking her gum. A large dog lay on a rag rug in front of the window. One of those breeds with wild wiry hair that stood up in uneven lengths all over his body.

I was rubbing my head and wondering where I was. How I had gotten here. The last thing I could remember was leaving the Poet to make my way back to the dorm. It was the final day of mid-terms and I had finished my Organic Chemistry exam. Feeling pretty good about the test I found my way over to The Poet and Patriot, not far off campus. I’d had a few drinks to celebrate the end of mid-terms. The last thing I could remember was crossing the Boulevard that ran along the east end of the Campus.

I spotted a Highlights Magazine on the table and thought about picking it up when the receptionist slid the window open on the far wall.

“Mr Collins,” she said and she was looking at me. My name isn’t Collins so I didn’t answer.

“Mr Collins!” she barked it this time, but no one replied. She pointed directly at me and then turned her hand over to crook her finger in the international signal for beckoning.

I pointed at my own chest and raised my eyebrows questioningly.

She nodded her head, so I stood and made my way to her window.

“Mr Collins,” she repeated, “He can see you now.”

“There must be some mistake,” I said, “my name’s not Collins. It’s Fields, Jim Fields. Where am I anyway?” I added as an afterthought.

“Nice try, sir.” she smiled at me like I was trying to get away with something. “We know that your name is Fredrick William Collins and that you are twenty-three years old. We know about what you did to Sheila Lampey in high school. We know what really happened to your grandmothers silver service; and we know about the lies you told in your admissions interview for school. Please don’t pretend that you don’t know where you are. This is Hell, Mr Collins and you earned your way in here. It won’t do you any good to deny it.”

“What?” I was incredulous, “My name is Jim Fields. I didn’t lie in my admissions interview. I don’t know anyone named Sheila Lampey. I don’t know why I would be in Hell and I don’t know why this dog would be here either.”

Smug, “We know you’re Fredrick William Collins because we saw your driver’s license. You died when you drunkenly stepped in front of a UPS truck that was northbound on Edgemere Boulevard. You’re here for the reasons I already told you and a host of others. The dog’s here because he was a bad dog, not that it’s any of your business, Mr Collins. And, you really shouldn’t keep ‘Him’ waiting any longer.”

I dug my hand into my front trouser pocket and pulled out the fake ID that I had been using to drink since I was eighteen years old. I had planned to keep using it until I turned twenty-one. I looked at the name printed there.

Fredrick William Collins


This week’s prompts are:

  1. outside, he raised his arm and hailed a cab
  2. A little white lie
  3. woken by the silence

Go ahead and dive in, set your imagination free!
Write something
Ready, Set, Go – you have 25 minutes, but if that is not possible, take as long as you need and, have fun!