January 2023 – tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice

OLWG# 297- Clouds Make the Wind Blow

Remember when we would go to Paris
We would ride the Metro
A few Francs or a couple of Euros
We could go anywhere we desired

The Metro was our means of transport
It wouldn’t exist if Parisians didn’t need to get around

When clouds need to travel
They can ride the wind
A few Euros or a couple of bob
They can go anywhere they desire

The wind is their means of transport
The wind wouldn’t exist if clouds didn’t need to get around

This week’s prompts were:

yeah, technically it’s illegal
how does she act around children
clouds make the wind blow

OLWG #296 Maybe Verse of Some Sort

Written for OLWG# 296

Veronica Jones was a good girl attended church every Sunday morning a cheerleader and President of the Honour Society at Lakeside Academy for Girls, and a member of the Ambassador’s Club, too Somehow word got out that she was seen up on Preston Rd. with a boy, Tyler Hanson, Preston Rd. is little more than a dirt track that winds into the woods off Hwy 380 The kids use it You know… In a town this size, well, it didn’t sit well with folks around here the word is that even Faber College might be reconsidering the scholarship; previously proffered

The prompts were:

1. 1. got a job, dealing faro
  2. she was a ‘good girl’
  3. in a town this size

ZOZO 12.01.23- Friday Nights

Written in 15 minutes, with the Carrizozo Writers- Raw, unedited, exactly as it flowed through my fingers to the keyboard

Larry dragged himself out of bed and, with eyes half open, stumbled to the kitchen. His hair was wild atop his head. The stubble on his cheeks was coarse and sandpaper rough. His boxer shorts did not hang straight, they were twisted around his waist, misaligned. The taste of battling dragons lingered in his mouth.

He had one thought. He needed a pitcher of bloody Marys to cut the pain lurking in the shadows behind his eyes. To silence the screams of the dragons, put them back into their lairs, and organize his thoughts.

Saturday mornings.
Saturday mornings suck.
Why do others always villainize Mondays, when it takes all day Saturday to approach even a semblance of normalcy.
Saturday mornings suck.

Friday nights, on the other hand…
Friday nights were fine! True freedom
On Friday nights Larry was always rich. Money was no object.
He was handsome,
good looking,
wise,
funny and entertaining.
But when Saturday morning rolled around, his head usually hurt. Hurt bad.

time’s up – step away

The prompts

lonely indecision
bloody Marys
Friday night

OLWG# 294- Gibson Ridge

Written for OLWG# 294

Steve turned up the gravel road that was the way to reach the summit of Gibson Ridge. He was driving his Mom’s car: a four-door 1954 Rambler “Cross Country,” the one with the fixed front fender skirts.

His parents had driven to the coast for the weekend. They had taken Dad’s ’62 Chrysler New Yorker because it was roomier. The morning they left, Dad pulled him aside and cautioned him not to be driving his mother’s car while they were away. He was not covered by auto insurance and, as he was not yet fourteen years old. Steve would not even be able to get his driver’s license for almost another year. Yes, they trusted him to stay at the house with his older sister; they did not trust him to drive without a parent in the car.

“I promise, Dad.” Steve crossed his heart to show his earnestness and wished them gone already. He wanted to take that car and cruise up and down Fletcher Blvd with his friends. Steve longed to wheel into the Beacon Drive-In and have Chrissy Hamilton skate over to take his order. He wanted to order a vanilla shake and share it with her. Instead, he was driving up a gravel road with James, riding shotgun, Larry, and Mike in the back seat. Larry had promised that some upperclassmen were having a bonfire and “kegger” at the overlook on the Ridge. He said that there might be some girls there.

He better be right.

The prompts were:

1. 1. wheels on a gravel road
  2. lay your lily hand in mine
  3. bring a gnome costume

ZOZO 05.01.23- Nancy Pérez-Quiñones

Written in 10 minutes, with the Carrizozo Writers- Raw, unedited, exactly as it flowed through my fingers to the keyboard

Elizabeth held her breath as the emcee announced the winner.

“Miss Alamogordo!” he exclaimed and the crowd went wild. Liz turned to the right and spotted the winner down the row of beauty queens.

It was Nancy Pérez-Quiñones.

Of course, it was.

And, she was feigning surprise.

She wasn’t surprised.

In fact, Nancy was probably the one who had stolen Liz’s own lucky underwear.

The French cut pink ones.

The ones that, had she been wearing them today, would have ensured Liz’s coronation.

Nancy was from Tularosa. She knew that Liz had lucky underwear. They had attended grade school together. Liz had worn those panties when she won “Otero County Rodeo Queen”. Elizabeth had foolishly told Nancy that she attributed that win to her new found lucky undies.

Fuck Nancy Pérez-Quiñones!

She was such a bitch.

What had that malicious she-devil done with the charmed undergarments?

time’s up – step away

The prompts