March 2014 – tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice

The Clever Raven and the Mountain Lion

Without a word, she dropped to the ground. She was no longer in fear; she knew that the lion could never frighten her again.

This is the story of a mountain lion who, one day while walking through the wood, spied a clever and alluring young raven perched high in a tree. He was immediately captivated, and fell madly in love with her. He was so smitten that he immediately asked for her hand in marriage. He asked her to come down from her high branch so that they might live together in wedded bliss for the rest of their days.

She declined. And offered, by way of explanation, that she would not live her life in constant fear. Fear of having such a powerful and dangerous mate. Fear of being crushed or torn to pieces by the lion whilst in the throes of passion.

But the lion pressed, so smitten was he, “What can I do to prove my devotion to you, fair raven?”

The clever raven thought and finally offered the lion a challenge that she hoped would dissuade him, “You can prove your devotion by bringing me a gift. Bring me food.” She believed that he would fail and this would discourage further advances.”

The lion turned and dashed into the forest. The next morning when the raven awoke she looked down and spied the lion with a dead stag clutched in his maw. He dropped the deer when he spoke, “My love, I have brought you a deer. There is no finer meal to be found in the forest than fresh deer.”

“Oh my,” said the raven. “Birds, such as I, do not eat deer, we eat fruit, berries, grains and small animals but nothing so large as this. This will never do. I cannot marry you lion. You would never understand me.”

But, the lion would not be discouraged, and he continued to press. To the great dismay of the clever and alluring young raven, his attentions even increased. Each morning she would wake to find dead animals and other prizes stacked at the base of her tree but, she continued to spurn the advances of her eager suitor. Then one morning upon awakening the raven found the lion silently scaling her tree. She feared for her life and knew she must do something to permanently discourage his amour. The lion was nearly upon her when she raised her wings to ensure his attention and she spoke, “Alright good sir. I will wed thee but, your great teeth and your long claws frighten me. Prove your devotion by having your teeth pulled and your claws shorn to the nub. Do these things and I will join you in matrimony.”

The lion looked fixedly at the object of his desires, grinned toothily, and climbed down from the raven’s tree, which he had ascended. “Wait here my love, I will return in haste.”

But, he was gone for three days. On the morning of the fourth day the raven awoke to find her paramour pacing at the base of her tree. “Good morning sir,” she squawked down to him. “Have you heeded my wishes? Are we to be wed?”

He looked at her perched high above and smiled. Truly he had not a single tooth left in his head. “See how much I love you,” he crooned.

“Come up here and let me get a closer look,” the clever raven implored.

The lion leapt onto the trunk of the tree and immediately dropped again to the ground. He did this time and time again. The raven could see that his fearsome grapnels had been shorn and he could not gain purchase to climb the tree. Not even nubs remained where his mighty claws had once been. Without teeth or claws the lion was harmless; the clever and alluring raven looked down at him and without a word, she dropped to the ground. She was no longer afraid, she knew that the lion could never frighten her again.

Here are the rules:
• Your post must be dated March 30, 2014, or later.
• Submissions must be 750 words or fewer.
• Submissions must be fiction or poetry.
• You must include the following sentence as the FIRST line of your submission: “Without a word, she dropped to the ground.”
• You must also include a reference to the media prompt.

Daily Prompt: She Drives Me Crazy

It makes me crazy when people wear their shoes in my house. What habit/act drives you crazy? How do you prevent it from happening?

Krista ran from the kitchen to her front door, “Wait, wait, wait” she said breathlessly, “can you guys take your shoes off and leave them here by the door, please?”

Ben, Michelle, and Cheri all nodded, and complied.

“Sure.” “Not a problem.” “Uh huh, of course.” They mumbled collectively as they set their zapatos neatly into the cubbies that had been erected on the wall by the door.

The occasion was a dinner/business discussion and Krista was the host. Michelle had suggested an Italian restaurant downtown but, then Krista volunteered to cook. They had all tasted Krista’s cooking before at potlucks and bake sales. Agreement was swift.

No one had been to Krista’s home before so she shared her address and they set a time for that evening. Cheri asked for no red meat and Krista was quick to concur.

She showed her guests into the house and then gave them a quick tour. Throw rugs were placed strategically around the parlor; the floor was fine Italian porcelain tile, very handsome indeed. Art was hung on the walls and there were a few small sculptures placed on tables and shelves. However, it was apparent to everyone that Krista decorated primarily with books. Books were everywhere. Books were obviously important to her, as they were to the others.

Krista’s lucky mukluks adorned her feet; the ones with the knitted patterns on the uppers, the rest of them were in socks. Cheri was wearing sheer ankle high white socks. Michelle had on tube socks with green stripes around the top. and Ben was wearing boot socks. The kind that they make sock monkeys of, the tip of Ben’s left big toe was peeking out of the top.

They passed on through into the kitchen and gathered around the island. The porcelain tile had carried on into this room as well. In fact it carried on throughout the house. The evening got underway with light banter about ‘daily prompts’ and ‘Wordpress blogs’. Krista had been running the juicer so there were kale and cucumber drinks ready. She offered to run some carrots through but everyone was happy with the green. Cheri noticed a chill creeping into her feet but she didn’t say anything. She knew it was because of her thin socks and she had left her trainers in the cubby by the front door, as requested.

Dinner was a hit with perfectly prepared Chicken Marsala as an entrée. During the meal Michelle had tucked her feet up under her butt on the chair. They were getting cold and she longed for her Ugg Boots, recently abandoned by the entrance. She knew that if she got her feet off the tile floor it would help, and it did, a bit. Ben helped Krista clear the table and then they all settled back around it with coffee, to talk, plan and visit. Nothing beats good food followed by good conversation between good friends (be they new friends or old). The evening was swimming – plans were being formalized, and there was just the right amount of workplace gossip included to keep everyone’s interest and encourage participation.

Krista noticed her friend shivering. “Are you OK, Ben?” she asked. “You don’t look comfortable.”

“I think, I may have to leave Krista. I’m freezing.” Ben replied and he lifted his foot, showed them the bottoms of his socks. They were obviously old socks and, although the weave and the weft were, for the most part, intact; they were threadbare. “I should have worn different socks.” He lamented. “I need my boots. I had a lovely evening though. Next time I’ll be better prepared.”

When Ben rose to leave, Cheri and Michelle got up too. “I guess we’ll mosey on as well.” Michelle said, “We all came in one car.”

“Thanks so much for dinner,” Cheri chirped. “I really loved the salad.”

Krista walked them all to the door and everyone said their “goodbyes” and “thanks” again.

As she watched her friends walking to the street, Krista closed the door and thought to herself “Damn, we didn’t even get to play Twister” and she stood there, leaning her back against the door, until she heard Ben’s car start up and pull away into the night.

Daily Prompt: I Walk the Line

Have you got a code you live by? What are the principles or set of values you actively apply in your life?

You toe the line, when you are not causing trouble
You walk a straight line, when you are not seeing double

“I Walk the Line” is a song by Johnny Cash
Glen Campbell recorded “Witchita Lineman” in the late 60’s, I think

Airline
Borderline
Clothes drying on the line
Norwegian or Carnival Cruise line
Draw a line in the sand
Fuel line
Go to the end of the line
Line dancing
Don’t cross that line
Phone line
Poverty line
Line of coke
Betting line
“What line of work are you in?”
Mason Dixon Line
Online
Parallel lines
Party line
Stand in line
Wait in line

Me, I have a tendency to dance along the edge. The edge is kind of a line. But in order to do that more than once you take pains to minimize the risks.

29 March 2014

The prompts are:

1. You’ll never get that out
2. Por siempre adios
3. Chewing gum and wearing headphones

Begin Writing
I bought new soap yesterday.

Whatever happened to soap that smelled like lavender, or bay rum, or Ireland, or even just soap?

For God’s sake, I had a choice of “Tsunami”, or “Breeze”, or “Sport”. I was unsure what a tsunami smelled like, and the bar was sealed in plastic so I was unable to preview that scent. I reached for “Breeze” but then I remembered what the breeze smelled like when it blew up from Tacoma. I was able to sniff the bar though and thought I’ll never get that smell out of the bathroom, it was that bad.

I chose “Sport” and I’m glad I did. I kinda halfway expected to exit the shower this morning smelling of gym socks but that didn’t happen. I’m not sure what sport I smelled like but after work today, I’m going back to that store and buying the rest of their stock of “Sport” soap. Here’s why…

I was late for work this morning.

I was late for personal reasons.

I showered, with my new “Sport” soap, shaved and returned to the bedroom to dress. I won’t go into detail but suffice it to say that my wife was suddenly “attracted” to me.

I was late for work.

I was in a great mood when I got to the office and boarded the lift for the 19th floor, where I work. We stopped at 5 and a beautiful young lady got on board. “Mmmm, someone smells like sport” she said and she leaned next to me and breathed deeply. I pried her off when we got to 19. Her phone number was written on the back of my hand.

I spent the rest of the day at my desk, in my office but the women I work with kept coming by and lingering outside my office door all day long. For the most part, they weren’t talking to each other, they would just stand there and breathe deeply.

Late in the afternoon, Carol and Roxanne were brave enough to come into my office.

“Hi Chuck,” Roxanne said. “Did you get your hair cut? It looks great. Something’s different about you but I can’t figure it out. What is it? New glasses?”

Carol piped up, “Some of us girls are going to McMurphy’s for drinks after work. Wanna join us?”
“I’ll take a rain check Carol, I have to go to the store and buy soap.”

“Sport” Soap. Who knew?
Time is up. Put down your writing implements and step away from the paper.

Daily Prompt: Singing the Blues

We all feel down from time to time. How do you combat the blues? What’s one tip you can share with others that always helps to lift your spirits?

The blues is like ice
Stabbin’ straight thru yer heart

Everbody got the blues sometime
Ya ain’t whole lest ya had the blues
Sometime or t’other

The blues can crush ya
Crush ya and toss ya aside

Everbody got the blues sometime
Ya ain’t whole lest ya had the blues
Sometime or t’other

But there’s more to it than that

Daily Prompt: The Great Pretender

Are you full of confidence or have you ever suffered from Imposter Syndrome? Tell us all about it.

“Just walk in there like you own the joint,” Jeremiah said, “if you look like you belong no one’s going to question you.” He handed me a lanyard with a piece of white laminated paper hanging off it. “Wear this around your neck and people will think you got a backstage pass.”

I looked at it and looped it around my neck. “There’s nothing printed on this man, it’s not gonna fool anybody.”

“Sure it will,” Jeremiah said. “They’ll just think it’s turned around.”

I sighed and resigned myself to this foolhardy scheme. “So what happens if I actually get backstage and into his dressing room? What do I tell Mr. King then?”

“First of all, don’t call him Mr. King. Ya gotta call him BB. All you have to do is get his autograph. It would be really cool if you hand him a Sharpie and roll up your sleeve. Get him to sign your forearm. You’ll be in for sure!”

“Are you sure you don’t want to do this one Jeremiah? Somethin’ tells me I’d have better luck giving the mayor a hotfoot than pulling this off. There’s probably 10 layers of security between this loading dock and Mr. King. I’m never gonna make it.”

“Come on brother, have confidence.” Jeremiah spun me around, patted me on the back and gave me a little shove towards the door.

I filled my cheeks up with air and blew it out slowly. Here goes nothin’. I pushed on the door and, much to my amazement, it opened. I stuck my head in and looked up the short passageway. Deserted – no one here, just an empty chair, so I walked forward; when the hallway took a sharp turn to the right so did I. There was another door at the end. I paused and considered whether membership in ΣΟΙ was going to be worth this initiation. I grabbed the knob, twisted, and pushed.

To say I entered another world would be an understatement. There must have been 30 people moving everywhere at once. They were shouting to one another. They were shouting into cell phones. They were carrying cables, amps, and boxes. They were busy! A skinny guy with long blonde hair and a lot of acne scarring broke off his conversation with a hot blonde chick when he saw me come in. “Are you the extra rigger?” he asked, and I nodded my head. “Grab those mike stands and get em on stage. Find Mr. King’s guitar case and take it to him. It’ll say ‘Lucille’ on it and it should be back o’ the drumstand. Then find Jimmy and do whatever he tells you to do.” He turned back to the blonde and took up his conversation again.

“Damn,” I said under my breath, I went and grabbed the microphone stands and followed the stream of people out the door on the other side of the room. It was pretty easy to find the stage where a red faced guy showed me how he wanted the stands positioned. I found Lucille’s case; I ducked behind a bank of amps, and used my phone to take a selfie. Me and BB King’s guitar case – I made sure that ‘Lucille’ was clearly visible – too cool. I came back out and saw the red faced guy staring at a girl in a black tank top. I don’t think he was looking at her face though. “You Jimmy?” I asked.

“Yeah, what?”

“I’m supposed to take this,” I held up the case, “to Mr. King. You know where he is right now?”
Jimmy pointed back the way I had come and said, “Green Room.” Then he swiveled his eyes back to the tits under the black tank top. I decided that right then, it would be a mistake to ask him where the green room was, so I started back. I figured I could ask someone else who wasn’t so preoccupied but, I didn’t have to. I saw a door that I hadn’t noticed before. It had “GREEN ROOM” stenciled on it.

I knocked and entered. There he was, the legend himself. Mr. BB King. I had made it! He was sitting on a couch drinking from an Arrowhead water bottle. Lucille was on the couch next to him. “Come on in,” he said, “see ya got Lucille’s case with you. Good. Can you lean it next to the door there, please?” He watched me do as he asked, and said, “You’re new, huh?”

“Yes sir, Mr. King. In fact I’m so new, I don’t even work here.” He raised one eyebrow and studied me. I came clean with the man. I told him that this was an initiation for a fraternity, Sigma Omicron Iota.

“How are you supposed to prove you saw me?” he asked.

“I’m supposed to have you sign my forearm.” I said, rolled up my sleeve and proffered the Sharpie.

“You here by yourself?” he asked and took the pen.

“No, Jeremiah is waiting outside.”

“Want him to owe you?”

I nodded.

“What’s your name?”

“Angus”

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah, my dad is from Edinburgh.”

He nodded, grabbed my wrist and wrote on my arm. He wrote ‘To Angus and Jeremiah – Great meeting you boys. BB King’. Then he reached into his vest pocket and pulled out two tickets to tonight’s show. “Good luck, Angus” he said.

“Thank you, sir”

I made my way back out to the loading dock. Jeremiah was sitting on the edge, kicking his feet and smoking. “Shit,” he said, “It hasn’t been five minutes, they booted your ass out.”

I rolled up my sleeve and showed him my arm. “I took care of you man, let’s go.”

We both smiled and headed towards the street. I had to find Beth, no way was I taking Jeremiah to a BB King show.

Daily Prompt: Que Sera Sera

Do you believe in fate or do you believe you can control your own destiny?

Tonight is a departure for me. I normally tell stories here, and I refrain from speaking directly to you, the reader. I feel like if you really want to know what I think that you could read the bumper stickers on the back of my truck but…

When I hear the term Que Sera Sera, my mind goes to Doris Day. I just can’t help it. It was her signature song and it is one of those songs that gets into your head and burrows deep, like a computer virus. Left unchecked and untreated it might cause irreparable harm. I tried to write some fiction to go with the prompt but I couldn’t even remember the rest of the prompt. Doris just kept singing.
I figured that if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. So I devised a short quiz.

Rules:
First there is a numeric list of song titles (from 1 to 12) drawn from a cross section of different musical genres. I would consider these songs to be “signature songs” for the artists in the second list (alpha characters A to L). Now you need to get a writing implements (a pencil and paper will work) and match up the song with the artist. Don’t peek at the answers before you complete the entire test.

Scoring:
1 correct answer – congratulations, you remembered about Doris Day from earlier in this post
2-4 correct answers – very good, you have a relatively “virus free” brain
5-8 correct answers – yellow flag, you should definitely run a scan and try to clean those out of your memory systems
9-12 correct answers – “danger danger” you should seriously consider a reformat and reinstallation of your Operating System

Song Titles                                                 Artists
1. Boom Boom                                      A. Andy Williams
2. Don’t Eat the Yellow Snow        B. Bill Haley and the Comets
3. I Wanna Be Sedated                    C. Blondie
4. In A Gadda Da Vida                      D. Dean Martin
5. In the Mood                                      E. Doris Day
6. Love is a Battlefield                      F. Frank Zappa
7. Moon River                                     G. Glenn Miller
8. One Way or Another                  H. Iron Butterfly
9. Purple Haze                                      I. Jimi Hendrix
10. Que Sera Sera                              J. John Lee Hooker
11. Rock Around the Clock            K. Pat Benetar
12. That’s Amore                                L. The Ramones

All done? OK then – scroll on down for the answers

Answers
1J, 2F, 3L, 4H, 5G, 6K, 7A, 8C, 9I, 10E, 11B, 12D

Legal Disclaimer that my lawyers tell me I must include: 
This post is intended to be funny. No one is really being encouraged to reformat their brains or their computers. It is a joke. The author cannot be responsible for the irresponsible behavior of others. Have a nice day!

Daily Prompt: Moments to Remember

What are the three most memorable moments — good or bad, happy or sad — in your life? Go!
***
When I was born
Doctors still slapped you on the ass.
I don’t really remember her doing it but it has to qualify as a memorable moment.
Talk about culture shock!

When I fell in love
Folks still took their commitments seriously.
I don’t really remember the exact moment – I don’t think it was sudden – more like slow and self affirming.
Talk about life changing!

When I woke this morning
My eyes still opened.
I don’t really remember my dreams but I remember waking to a new day where anything can happen and probably will.
Talk about high expectations!
***

The Clarity of Retrospect

Whirr, whack, whack, whack, whack. The 16mm film had run completely through the projector. Our Sociology teacher, Mr. Lincoln, turned it off and asked Amy to get the lights. Then he walked to the front of the class. He must have decided to pick on Jeff today. Jeff had come to class stoned but, that wasn’t really a surprise. Jeff always came to class stoned. It was the first class after lunch after all. “Tell me about the film, Jeff.”

“Wha? Who? Me? You mean me Mr. Lincoln?” He pointed to his own chest. Everyone turned to look at Jeff expectantly. This might be entertaining.

Mr. Lincoln nodded.

“Well, shit, it was a pretty cool movie, I guess.” He began.

Mr. Lincoln pressed, “Try to refrain from the use of profanity Jeff. What was it about?”

“Uhm OK… There was this chick, kinda cute, with like, really nice hair. And, she like, gets off a bus, and then later some little dude snatches her purse.” Jeff was getting into it now. Enjoying the retelling, “But she’s like, having none of it, ya know, and she takes off after the little dude. She’s all like, ‘Hey, little dude, that’s my bag. Give it back’ but, the little guy keeps motorin’. Up some stairs and through some alleyways. I couldn’t tell where they were, fer shure, but it wasn’t Santa Monica!” Jeff snorted and laughed. “Then she like, finds her purse man. It’s just dumped on a step. But the funny part is, her stuff is still there. Like her money and her hand lotion is all still there but, it’s like somethin’ is missin’. You can kinda tell by the way she is lookin’. I just didn’t know what. I don’t know what’s missin’.”

“So she packs her shit up and starts to leave but then she spots the little dude down another alley, writin’ in a notebook… Whoa, I’ll bet it was her notebook, huh Mr. Lincoln? Or maybe it was her pen? Wait, wait, I’ll bet it was her pen and her notebook.”

Jeff gets a contemplative look on his face and looks earnestly at his teacher, “Then, she just leaves, dude. She totally lets him get away with it. I guess she was cool with the little dude needin’ a pen and some paper. Huh?”

Mr. Lincoln smiles and nods his head, “Pretty good Jeff. Would you say that through the clarity of retrospect, the obvious conclusion would be that things don’t always turn out as planned?

“Yeah, Mr. Lincoln, dude. That’s exactly what I was gonna say. I was gonna say exactly that.”

“Well then?” Mr. Lincoln asked.

Jeff looked solemnly around the class blinked his eyes twice, swallowed, and said, “Through the clarity of retrospect, the obvious conclusion surfaced: things don’t always turn out as planned.”

***

Here are the rules:

• Your post must be dated March 23, 2013, or later.
• Submissions must be 750 words or fewer.
• Submissions must be fiction or poetry.
• You must include the following sentence as the LAST line of your submission: “Through the clarity of retrospect, the obvious conclusion surfaced: things don’t always turn out as planned.”
• You must also include a reference to the media prompt.
• The speakeasy is for submissions written specifically for the grid. Please don’t submit an entry if you intend to showcase it to another blog link-up. Such posts are deleted without notice.
• Please don’t post long explanations before your post. We want your writing to be the star of the show. If you need to clarify anything, feel free to do so at the end.

How Friends are Made and Kept

***

I understand your decision,
If only I’d found you sooner.

You allowed me in, we’re friends.

You introduced me to others,
Now they’re my friends too.

In this way you’re with me always.

***

For the final challenge here at Trifecta, we considered some flash and dazzle, a wild prompt to send us off with a bang. What we realized was the most achingly beautiful, haunting and dazzling words we’ve read from our brilliant community have been the ones you chose when you were given the freedom to write with abandon. So we’re lovingly, and eagerly, placing the choice in your hands. There’s no topic, no word, just a free write. Go anywhere your mind wants to travel. Take us there too. Just make it count, leave your blood all over this page. Thirty-three words exactly. Of course. We couldn’t end it any other way.

Good luck and happy writing! – See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.CtrnNsVF.dpuf