This week’s prompts are at the bottom. The story below, I wrote for practice, because that’s what makes perfect.
Here’s how to play along, if you are unsure.
“Consuela? Consuela?” Tommy called through the front door screen. He stood on the hard packed dry dirt of the front yard. The old yellow dog lay up on the cement stoop, chin on his front paw and a green bottle fly perched on his ear.
Consuela emerged from the gloom at the back of the house and stopped about halfway to the front door. She had the baby on her hip and eyes shone with concern for her husband.
“Sup, Tommy?” she asked.
“I’m gonna leave for work now.”
“OK, Baby,” she said. “Your lunch is in the kitchen. Can you come straight home tonight? I need your help with Rosalita, y tu mamá viene.”
“I’ll be home as soon as I can, but I have a meeting tonight after work.”
“Oh, that’s right, Tommy. I forgot.” She hurried back to the kitchen and then came to the door with his lunch wrapped in a brown paper bag. She pushed the door to stand on her tip toes and give him a peck on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Baby,” she smiled and rubbed his arm, “You’re doing so well.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled and spun around. He paused at the chain link gate for a moment before pushing it open and stepping out of the yard. He closed and latched the gate, waved goodby to Consuela and Rosalita, then started walking away on Encinal Street towards La Fonda, where he could catch the bus to mid-town. Tommy worked for Mr. Killdeer at the oil change shop. It was a new job and a condition of his probation. He’d only been at this job for a couple of weeks.
Tommy patted his jacket pocket to check that the collection of small plastic bottles were there as he rounded the corner.
This week’s prompts are:
- I forget how it goes
- It’s a blessing
- I can’t hear you
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.
Have fun
So…what’s in the bottles? This is such a clear domestic scene, thrown into doubt by that last line.
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…ah the bottles… that haunt – a different spirit.
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Another short one just because it worked out that way: #76 Dept Service
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