The Extraction #fridayfictioneers via rochelle – 10/18

The Friday Fictioneers challenge is to write a 100-word story inspired by a photo prompt provided on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog. I’ve included a link below to other writer’s contributions. Make sure to check them out.

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copyright –Janet Webb

 

The Extraction

“Of course” she thought. Her return to Boulder corresponded with the 100 year flood. It was fitting really. The deluge matched how she felt, her mind traveling back to an ancient history she always avoided- theirs.

“Floppy chicken”, he warned, would haunt her. His erratic hand flopping incessantly over her body, whether madness or affection she was unsure. Yet the memory never failed to conjure a smile. As he’d promised her it would.

Looking upon the flooded Whole Foods parking she could picture him. It wouldn’t be tag golf this time. No, today he’d be shopping cart surfing. She smiled
 

Word Count: 100

 

The Weekend ~ 10/11/13 ~ Taking Stock

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This week I came across a series of posts called taking stock. (Originating here). I figured I’d give it a go. Taking stock like making stew with a little bit of this and a dash of that.
 

Making : Whoopie!…No I’m not. But I’ve always wanted an occasion to say it- so there it is.

Cooking : A lot! It’s a new life, new leaf. Lately it has been sautéing Kale, Butternut squash, onion, carrots, celery and chicken in olive oil with an itty bit of aged Parm.

Drinking : Water, more water, so much water. I haven’t drank this much water in my life. But now it’s one of the few drinks I’m allowed. And let’s be honest Tea is just flavored water. I just haven’t gotten used to Kombucha yet. Ugh!

Reading:  Domino Magazine. Well, looking really, not reading per say. So glad it’s back!

Wanting: A giant tub to soak in, a fuzzy robe to curl up in, while sitting before a warm fire.

Looking: For an escape hatch.  There must be one here somewhere.

Playing: With words. I am writing stories, poems and emails to friends.

Wasting: Fruit. I don’t like mushy bruised bits, so I am cutting away more than necessary.

Sewing: Bottons. My machine is getting tuned up so all hand sewing for now.

Wishing:  For something new to arrive in my life.

Enjoying: Spotify-my latest addiction. It is my internet version of Radio Roulette.

Waiting: For a pleasant surprise or the other shoe whichever arrives first.

Liking:  Bridge. Seriously this is a fun card game. Keeps my mind honed.

Wondering: About hard boiled eggs. Do I need a timer? Is there a trick to easy peeling?

Loving: Voice lessons. Once a week I get to stretch my range and repertoire.

Hoping:  I start to feel better soon.

Marveling:  At my restraint. My friend brought homemade chocolate chip cookies to bridge and I haven’t indulged. Not because I don’t want b/c I can’t. Still being good. See above.

Needing:  To float, let go, and be cradled in warm water. A hammock would do in a pinch.

Smelling:  My perfume. Creepy I know! At least I didn’t say my armpits.

Wearing:  OUT….okay, okay and my fuchsia sweater.

Following: My heart and everything it is whispering these days.

Noticing: Dark circles under my eyes.

Knowing:  There is no shame in feeling deeply. Cry if you must. Never hide the truth on your face. Suppression only delays the inevitable.

Thinking:  About life as Art and Art as life. Whose masterpiece is this?

Feeling:  My story manifest imbedded in my pores.

Bookmarking:  Everything I want to accomplish before the year ends- projects, dreams and long term goals. My cowlicks like dog-eared pages of my mind.

Opening:  My heart to the possibility of growth, transformation and flight.

Giggling:  Not often enough these days.

Feeling: Present to the beginnings that lie inside the endings.

 

See you Monday and perhaps give Taking Stock a whirl.

 

Blast from This Blogs Past

 

The Weekend Reading List

 

Something Extra

Lennon & Maisy Singing Hey Ho (Lumineers) at Opry

Image: via

Thespis #fridayfictioneers via rochelle – 10/11

Friday Fictioneers is here! The challenge each week is to write a 100-word story inspired by a photo prompt provided on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog.

Click the link below my story to read other writer’s creations.  Enjoy!
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Copyright – Sandra Crook

 

In Character or Thespis

“Come on take the shot already” she barked, desperately wanting a café and a moment’s peace away from crowds.

The camera flashed. Blinking she stood at the edge of the amphitheater stage. Around her masked faces stared waiting. The audience tiered before her in anticipation. Looking down she wore a long Grecian gown, curls tickling her shoulder, and sandaled toes peering up.

“I would hold in my hand a spear with a steel point.” She whispered.

“Arion, What the ….?”

Snapping back to the present she adjusted her sight to her husband. “Huh?”

“Where are you?”

“Another life, another time.”

 

Word Count: 100

 

A Quote from Euripide’s Hippolytus: “Love distills desire upon the eyes, love brings bewitching grace into the heart of those he would destroy. I pray that love may never come to me with murderous intent […]” 

 

Asymptote (poem)

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There once was a time
As Eldest siblings
we served
I, as Mom
You, as Pop
Our pack of bandits
Childhood spent
We ruled the lot

And I wondered
Would WE be?
A We?
Not you
Nor I

For me
you live
in fireflies
come out to play
at night

For me
You live
High atop Macy’s tree
In Secrets shared
Of could be

For me
You live
In the Tall tale
Of an 8yr old’s Proposal
oft regaled

For me
You live
in the barn amidst
Hay fort fears
Born sparks alit

Did you wonder?
Would WE be?
A We?
Not I
Nor You

Too long I fear
We played this game
Tag you’re it
You with her
Him and me
Paths diverged
Ways decided

But
Once we laid
Side by side
Lip locked
for Briefest moment
Inside Whispers soft
Colliding in a dream

so close
The choice seemed
within our grasp
to become
we
And yet
You chose her
Not me

That is how
A heart can break
Two halves
We
Never were
Just I
And You

Watching as
she walked the aisle
I stood breathless
To Say goodbye
As our childhood promise
Sweet whispered
we
Passed us by

So you see
I no longer wonder
Will We be
For You
There is No I
only she
you see