OLWG #87- It’s Late, Go Home

This week’s prompts are at the bottom. I wrote the story below for practice. Practice makes perfect. Let me know what you think.

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

Jean and Lucinda were buzzed and bored. They sat on wooden folding chairs turned to allow them a view of the makeshift dance floor, which had been constructed with sheets of plywood laid side by side. Their table was covered with several sheets of heavy white butcher paper. There was a centrepiece consisting of a wooden box made of tongue depressors; it contained small, soft pine boughs and a bouquet of delicate flowers at the centre. Each table was also equipped with a yellow and green box of crayons, the twenty-four count size. Rain was drumming on the roof of the canvas structure that had been hired for the reception. The band was playing a collection of sentimental crap, suitable for a wedding.

The bride had danced with her father hours ago, the groom and his mother had also fulfilled their obligation. Denny’s brother, Hank, was swaying on the dance floor with Karen Pavlesky. They were the only dancers left and seemed to be holding one another upright. Fascinated, Lucinda watched while Jean used a crayon to draw outlines around her hands which she turned into Thanksgiving turkeys. She did this in the way that children learn to do it in preschool. Some of the turkeys had solid brown circles drawn beneath their backsides.

Lucinda took a deep breath and asked, “Why are those turkeys pooping?”

Jean finished feathering one of her birds, “What?”

“Why are you drawing poop under the turkey butts?”

“These?” she pointed at a stack of brown orbs beneath one of the turkeys. “That’s not poop. It’s turkey eggs.”

“Oh, OK,” Lucinda said, “Why are you drawing eggs beneath the boy turkeys? For that matter why are you only drawing boy turkeys? There are no girl turkeys here so, where are the eggs coming from?”

Jean lay her crayon down and studied her friend for a while before getting up and making her way to the bar. With each step the heels of her shoes sank into the damp grass where the tables were sitting. She was struggling.

The band said something about calling it a night. They quit playing and began to pack up their instruments.

Lucinda stared at something that only she saw until Jean came back with a fresh bottle of bubbly. She poured some into a couple of glasses when she sat back down. The two friends sat in silence for a while.

“Hey…” Jean broke the silence. “See those two?” she waved her glass in the direction of Denny’s brother and his dance partner, still locked together on the dance floor.

“Yeah, I see ‘em. That’s Hank and Karen. I’ve known Hank for years. I went to school with his brother. What about ‘em?”

“Do you think they’re in love?”

Lucinda studied the swaying couple. The only couple on the dance floor, “No.” she finally said. “I don’t think they are. I think that they probably want to be, but… I don’t think they are.”

“Why would you say that?” Jean asked, “That’s kinda ‘a mean thing to say.”

“Well, it’s Karen Pavelsky.” Lucy.

“So?”

“So what?” Lucy again.

“Isn’t Karen Pavelsky allowed to be in love?” Jean.

“I dunno, maybe, but not with Denny’s brother; or even with Denny for that matter. She has secrets.”

Before Jean could react to that the bartender kneeled down between the two friends. “’Scuse me ladies but it’s time to go home. Can I call you a cab?”

“Can you take us home with you?” Lucy asked.

“What about them?” Jean indicated Hank and Karen.

“We’re just gonna turn out the lights and let them keep dancing.” the barman said. He held out his hands for Jean and Lucinda to get up.

This week’s prompts are:

plucked it out
Daniel has no idea
I can’t do this

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!