OLWG#58- Interview

Just a moment or two
Written for OLWG#58


Brian Yednak looked at his phone. It was a message from reception telling him that his 1030 appointment was in the lobby. Sighing, he rose from the desk, pulled his sport coat on over his shirt and felt the pocket for his pipe. It was there and he longed to take it out, clench the stem between his teeth, and inhale the ‘over processed’ office air through the scented tobacco that he had loaded in the bowl. Years ago he could have gotten away with that but not today. These days you weren’t allowed to smoke at work. Hell, he couldn’t even wear aftershave, or a scented deodorant. Somebody might be allergic to it.

Brian grinned to himself as he made his way into the passage and headed to reception. Girls used to like the ‘Sport’ scent that he wore then. Girls liked ‘Sport’ and when it was combined with the vanilla scented tobacco, it drove ‘em crazy. Well those things combined with his boyish grin used to pack ‘em in. Then the world changed, but it was OK. These days; girls loved secrets. They’d do anything if they thought it would get you to tell them your secrets. Brian found it easy to make up secrets but he was getting older, he didn’t smell like ‘Sport’ anymore and couldn’t smoke in the office. Girls were harder to come by nowadays. He turned right at the main corridor and pushed his way through the door out to the reception and there waited a young guy with a bad haircut and an ill fitting suit; he was tall and lanky when he stood, appearing to be about twenty-five pounds underweight. He looked in Brian’s direction, but not actually at Brian. He didn’t say a word.

“Ballantyne?” Brian asked.

The young man nodded his head and glanced at a small slip of paper he held in his hand, “Mr. Redneck?” he asked back.

Brian grimaced, “Yednak,” he corrected the young man, “Yednak.”

“What?”

“My name… its Yednak. Not Redneck.”

“Oh, sorry; my mom took the message. She wrote Redneck. She’s getting older and her hearing must be starting to go.”

“Not a problem – happens all the time. You should just call me Brian. How old is she?”

“Who?”

“Who? Well your mom. Weren’t you talking about your mom?”

“Oh, yeah. She’s really old. She’ll be fifty in a couple of years. In some ways she’s still good, ya know? I mean, she still drives and cooks and all. She gave me a ride here today because, I don’t drive. She parked in the shade under that big tree in the lot. Do you think she’ll be OK there?”

There was an awkward pause until Brian laughed. He clapped the young man on the shoulder, “Let’s go down the hall. There should be a free meeting room close by.” He looked at Emily, the receptionist who nodded.

“407 should be free,” Emily informed them. She leaned over and handed Ballantyne a sticky note that she had folded in half. Her hand lingered on his.

“Call me, Matthew,” she blushed and looked down, “anytime.”

“Oh, sure, thanks.” he replied as he hurried after Brian Yednak who was strolling down the passageway, shaking his head from side to side.


This weeks prompts:

  1. a young guy with a bad haircut
  2. did you really think it through
  3. put that away
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OLWG#57- The Four Seasons of CA (Season 4)

Forty-four words
Written for OLWG#57


Annabel’s eyes snapped open and she gasped
Something?  It was faint but might be growing.
A crackle
A whiff of smoke
Buttery coloured light, lithe on the walls.
Get up-
get the dog-
grab a toothbrush-
snatch that photo of Mom by the door.


This weeks prompts:

  1. cooler this weekend
  2. I can’t find it anywhere
  3. the silence woke her

OLWG#56- Flight 1710 to Dallas

Another word picture
Written for OLWG#56


Wayne baltered to the counter and smiled sheepishly at the olive skinned, dark haired girl he found there. She reached out her hand, but he lifted his suitcase up and placed it on the scale before handing her his ID and ticket. Tapping on the keyboard she found him in the system.

“Would you prefer a window or an aisle, Mr. Tupper?” she asked politely.

Wayne looked at her name tag, “Uhm, Ms Bustamante,” he replied, “could I get a middle seat, please?” He flicked some of the green blue and gold glitter from his shoulder. There was a lot there. He wiped a bit more from his lapel as he waited for her to answer then he closed his eyes. He was so drunk still. He was so tired.

At the gate, waiting to board Wayne napped till the gate agent woke him so he could board and then he made his way to seat 13B. An older woman; grey hair with a blue wash occupied 13A, she was thin and frail. She and Wayne exchanged smiles as he waited for the large man to step aside from the aisle seat so that he could move in. He raised his eyebrows as Wayne scooted past.

“Dude… wish I’d been with you. Looks like you’ve been having a good time.”  The big man said.

Wayne nodded and collapsed into his seat. He leaned towards the old woman at the window to make room for the big guy’s shoulders and closed his eyes hoping for slumber.


This weeks prompts:

  1. covered with glitter
  2. playing pirates
  3. life can end in the middle of a sentence

OLWG#55- Détente

a word picture – written for OLWG#55


The short summer night brings no respite from the oppressive heat that cloaks this god forsaken corner of the earth. No breeze to offer absolution. Klemper, a big man, sits across the table. His enormous head takes up too much space in the room. Sweat builds on his brow and runs down, it follows his jagged scar. A scar that begins just beneath his hairline traverses below the patch that covers his right eye only to disfigure the corner of his mouth and fall off his face at the chin. It is barren where surrounded by his rough scrabble beard. I study his eye above the candle flame and wait for him to break the silence.

“I’m here, Dalgaard,” he curls his malformed upper lip as he sneers; “I’ll hear what you have to say before I kill you.” He wiped the sweat off his face in a downward motion, shook his hand and slapped it loudly on the table top.

With no delay I unsheathed my Puukko and drove it down hard, pinning his hand to the table. It was the same Lappland blade that had scarred his face and taken his eye.

“You’ll have to kill someone else today, Klemper; but you should know that Göran is back and he hasn’t forgotten.” I pulled my knife back and wiped the blade on my sleeve.

“I’ll kill Göran first then. Before I come for you.” he said. He raised his freshly cut hand and lifted his glass. In response, I re-sheathed my weapon and turned away.


This weeks prompts:

  1. limpid pools
  2. look at these scars
  3. when the boys arrive

OLWG#54- Haibun

written for OLWG#54


The time was now. He had to go. He gathered up his few meager possessions paid his few debts and divided his land equally amongst his children. On the way, he stopped beneath the old tree to say a final goodbye to his wife, Lenore, gone these many years. He lingered to bid farewell to friends who remained and he paused to make peace with his adversaries.

With his affairs in order he turned his face to the sun and set off. In his heart he knew he would never come back.

Failure is not allowed,
they anticipate your return and,
your word is your bond.
It has been years since you were there,
it matters not; if they’ve gone.