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

Things Change


The tempo of the steel wheels got faster as the train began to pull away. Carl pressed his hand on the window and watched the prettiest girl he’d ever known, his new bride, Sara, hurry down the platform waving after him.

He was gone to fight in the struggle. – Southeast Asia -. He was still unsure what it was about, but they all assured him that he was protecting America.

So he went. And, there he found

 

Firefights

A Carl he’d never known 

Wounded and dead, piled like driftwood

A Purple Heart

Morphine and his own proclivity for the same

 

The tempo of steel wheels lessened as the train eased into the station. Carl pressed his hand on the window and searched the platform for Sara. They had taken away his morphine, but substitutes are easily found, in a war zone. Life was never going to be what he’d grown up believing.

 

Medicines that raced like trains through his veins were more important 

More important than the bride he barely knew

More important than money or food or family

More important than life itself

 

The train doesn’t stop here anymore. 

The economy is in decline. 

Property values are non-existent.

Sara lives alone at the edge of town. 

Carl never stood a chance, 

– bowled down by forces beyond his control.



OLWG · writing

OLWG# 270- Gibson

Written for OLWG# 270



Then Gwen lifted the coupe glass that held her cocktail and peered at me over the rim.

Her charcoal grey eyes smiled.

I could smell the gin as she stirred her drink with the onion skewer.

She sipped, her eyes closed, as she savoured the flavour.

Long thin fingers, tipped with long red nails, lifted and twirled the skewer. Liquid streamed at first, and then slowly dripped from the end.

Slowly, sensuously she teased the first of three pearl onions free, using her lips and teeth.


This week’s prompts were:

  1. a long ago Sunday
  2. it don’t mean much
  3. charcoal eyes

OLWG · writing

OLWG# 269- Posse

Written for OLWG# 269



They were a crew, had been since grade four
Independent thinkers
Unconventional, Nonconformists
Librarians, Artists and Bohemians
 

Suzy was a heretic
Billy was a Boy Scout
Rosy was a feminist; Janet, a boi
 

Danny was a sculptor and painter who dabbled in impasto
Thom wrote screenplays and short stories about shit that amused him
Linda – a photographer and philosopher
Oscar – street artist, tagger, & muralist, with an inherent love of spray paints
 

Janelle was a busker with an angelic voice
Jim was Janelle’s twin
He could play any instrument known to man
 

Audre had interests that tended to the dark
Witchcraft, Spells, Numerology, Astrology, Alchemy, Kabbalah, Tarot, Charms, & the like            
Renounced by her mother on account of what she thought.  Because of what she’d done
 

An unlikely group of confidants and chums
Best of friends, despite their differences, and
nothing’s ever going to change that
 

Just ask them


This week’s prompts were:

  1. heretics and Boy Scouts
  2. nothing’s ever gonna change
  3. what she’d done

writing

Playing For Keeps


Melissa (Glen) worked her (his) way into his (her) life like a opossum works her (his) way into your attic. The opossum always finds a way in, allowing her (him) to come and go whenever she (he) deems fit, whenever she (he) pleases.

Melissa’s (Glen’s) way in? A physical attraction and a willingness to accommodate, but physical attraction is most critical at the beginning of a relationship. Intellectual attraction needs to follow. Without the intellectual draw, desire becomes one dimensional and when that happens…

The opossum dies in the attic
it begins to rot and stink
the smell permeates down, where it
fouls the air throughout the house



OLWG · writing

Zozo Writers- Evelyn

Written in 20 minutes, with the Carrizozo Writers



 
She was not bad looking
Curly red hair
Long legs
Dressed to the nines
Perky breasts, with the tops peeking out above the top of her blouse

She perched on the stool that was usually mine
at the end of the bar
body language warning anyone and everyone to “Stay Away”
Even Rosy, the barmaid, was maintaining a safe distance
But…
That was my stool –

“Excuse me, Miss…”
She glared at me took a long drag from the long cigarette she had just lit
“That’s my seat”
“Fuck off, I don’t see your name on it.”
The ashtray was full, mounded with butts
Her fingers were yellow, she wore a halo of grey smoke

“You don’t know that,” I stood taller, straighter, more assertively
“You don’t even know my name”
“I don’t want to know your name, cowboy”
“But, I want to know yours.”

She squinted her eyes against the smoke
She looked at the glass of brown liquor sitting in front of her
“Evelyn,” she whispered
“What?”
“Evelyn, Evelyn, My name is EVELYN, Goddamnit”

I glanced around
Rosy was shaking her head
“Bullshit”
She flipped me off
“You’re no more an Evelyn than I am a cowboy”


I used the prompts- ‘yellow fingered’ and ‘that’s not her real name’

OLWG · writing

Zozo Writers- Coopon

Written with Carrizozo Writers



When Martha unleashed her temper
it was a whirlwind
tearing through the house
up the stairs
down again
searching relentlessly; until it found him
 
Once located; he was macerated
chewed up, bloodied, spit out on the sidewalk and stomped on
 
“I’m sorry, Martha, it slipped out,” he cowered,
“I know I should have said coo-pon
“I wasn’t thinking
“it won’t happen again.”
 
“Come here.” She reached for him
cupped his chin
looked him in the eye
“Let me take care of you
“I have a salve that’ll help”

 


Playing with pronouncing differences between ‘coupon’ and ‘coupon’

Carrot Ranch · Poetry · writing

enrichment, in no particular order

  I wrote this for the January 10th Flash Fiction Challenge



art and artists
knowledge and teachers
buildings, builders and architects
children and discovery
dogs and cats
food, farmers, ranchers
coffee and mornings
freedom and soldiers

 

big skies in Montana

 

friends and family
oceans and boats
giving without taking
help and contributors
confabs and conversationalists
ideas and thinkers
jobs and colleagues
mountains and fresh air
music and players
amor y novias

 

New Mexico and wide open spaces

 

poetry and poets
sculptures and sculptors
seabirds and majesty
shipmates and brothers
when a plan works
stories and storytellers
wives and daughters, or husbands and sons
books and authors
cake and ice cream


The prompt and instructions were:

In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes the idea of enrichment. Use many of its different manifestations or explore reasons why it matters to the character. Go where the prompt leads.