Fated

Write at the Merge had a great prompt this week.  Unfortunately I haven't had much time to work on this as things at work have been pretty nuts this week. It's a little rough, but here's my take.  Be sure to check out what others posted in response to the prompt.

The winter wind whistled through the ancient stone halls.  Though not as cold as his previous home, the wind always chilled Reginald.

No, he thought, it’s not the wind.  It’s what comes with the wind.

Reginald hurried through the stone halls, crimson robes streaming behind him.  He didn’t want to be late.  He’d been late before.  It hurt to be late.

But that’s better than missing it all together, he reasoned.

He reached the spiral stairs leading to the top of the east tower and scurried up them.  Reaching the top, Reginald flung open the iron strapped door and stepped out to the parapet walls.  Reginald breathed a sigh of relief.  He’d made it in time.  He spent the next several minutes scouring the skies, looking for any telltale trace of her.

At first he didn’t see her.  His heart raced.  Everything was right.  She had to come.  The old seeress said so.  Then, as his panic tightened icy fingers around his throat, Reginald saw the first sign of her.  Reginald danced in anticipation just like a naïve schoolboy.  The wind whipped particularly hard blinding him for a moment.  When he could see again, she was there on the tower with him.

Reginald fell to his knees.  Tears streamed down his face.  He reached out, hands shaking, praying for a single touch.  A touch that didn’t come.  She wasn’t even looking at him.  She circled the walls, watching the surrounding countryside.

“Sarande,” Reginald whispered.

She turned toward him.  Once again, Reginald’s heart raced.  Joy threatened to crush him.  Just as he believed that this time it worked, she walked right through him without any sign that she knew he was there.

Reginald crumpled, the scarlet fabric pooling around him.  It had failed.  Sarande was the reason he’d fought to take this land, to take Scarborough Castle.  He’d almost died in the fighting.  It had all been for her.

The battle replayed in his mind.  Each move, each sword stroke.  Reginald felt each blow all over again.  Wounded, exhausted, numb, he’d finally reached Sarande.  She turned to look at him as he’d fallen to his knees in front of her.

As Reginald remembered the look on her face, his mind shied away from the image that was indelibly carved into his memory.  Tears poured down his face.

“Why, Sarande?  Why did you do that?  Was I really so bad?” he screamed into the frigid air as she faded away.

That Smell

Trifecta gave us a fun 33 word weekend challenge:

We want you to give us a 33-word example of personification.  Wait.  What?  You forget what that is?  It's the practice of attaching human traits and characteristics with inanimate objects, phenomena and animals (http://literary-devices.com).

I don't think I have to explain what I am personifying here...

 

Reaching out

Tickling your nose

Knowing it will

Slap your face

When you look.

Could someone tell me

How something so small

Could produce that smell

 

Do I have to change your diaper?

Gearing Up

I'm rather excited.  Kind of kicking myself as well, but excited none the less.  I am getting ready to start a new project.  I love this point, when the ideas are fresh, the characters are speaking clearly and the story all but writes itself.

I'm kind of kicking myself because I have sooo many other projects not done yet.  Well, maybe not that many, but enough that I probably shouldn't be starting a new one.  But my goal is for this to be a submission for Precipice, Write on Edge's Literary Anthology.  The good part about that is the guidelines set a limit of 3000 words, which means I can't let this turn into a gargantuan piece like my one story that is currently about 80000 words and only 3/4 done...

What's making me even more excited is that I have the first version of my playlist composed.  It will probably go through a few modifications as I work on this story, but the base is there.  Here's what it looks like so far:

Sweet Emotion - Aerosmith

She's Not Innocent - Antigone Rising

I Will Be There - Art of Dying

Love Like This - Blackhawk

(Everything I Do) I Do It For You - Bryan Adams

Bad Moon Rising - Credence Clearwater Revival

Rescue Me - Daughtry

Ten Thousand Fists - Disturbed

Have You Ever Needed Someone So Bad - Def Leppard

Love Will Keep Us Alive - The Eagles

See the Sky Again - Edwin McCain

It's Your Love - Faith Hill and Tim McGraw

Bad Company - Five Finger Death Punch

Serenity - Godsmack

Wander This World - Jonny Lang

I Run To You - Lady Antebellum

Amazed - Lonestar

Of Wolf and Man - Metallica

Never Gonna Be Alone - Nickelback

Where You Are - Rascal Flatts

I'll Follow You - Shinedown

It's Been Awhile - Stained

Burn - The Cure

The Right Kind Of Wrong - LeAnne Rimes

Your Arms Feel Like Home - 3 Doors Down

 

I know, a rather mixed bag.  But each of these songs has something that speaks to me about either the characters, the tone of the piece, the situations they're in or something.  I'll leave you guessing as to just what story is about.  But, if you're interested in being a beta reader, let me know - dontpanic2011@gmail.com.  I'll hit you up once it is done and ready for that level of public consumption.

A Walk in the Woods

I managed to combine Trifecta's writing prompt with the Write at the Merge prompt this week.  It is revisiting a story I haven't worked on in a while but it fit well.  To completely understand Emma's comment at the beginning, be sure to read the rest of the story, or at least the piece just before this one.  They are in the tab labeled One Night in Dusseldorf at the top of the page.

Here are the prompts for the week:

Trifecta -
This week's word is:

BITCH (noun)

1: the female of the dog or some other carnivorous mammals
2 a : a lewd or immoral woman
   b : a malicious, spiteful, or overbearing woman —sometimes used as a generalized term of abuse
3: something that is extremely difficult, objectionable, or unpleasant

Please remember:

• Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.

• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.

• The word itself needs to be included in your response.

 

 

Write at the Merge gave us these two things:

 

This week, we have an image and a quotation for you:

image courtesy of lynnsta (via Flickr Creative Commons)

So here's my 333 word take on the two prompts:

            “Well,” I blinked, trying to find words, “Ain’t that a bitch.”

He was right.  We all knew it.  I didn’t want an ordinary life.

            “Come with me,” Kris said in a tone that almost commanded.

            Part of me wanted to refuse just because he expected me to listen.  His jaw tightened.  He saw my instinct to refuse out of spite.

            “Lead on my furry friend.”

            That didn’t seem to go over well either.  But, what can I say?  I tend to be a smart ass when I’m uncomfortable, which was a massive understatement right then.

            I followed Kris through the house, though mansion would be more accurate.  We stepped out onto the huge stone veranda.  I noticed a heart set in stone near the door.  It seemed odd, yet fitting, for Kris.  James trailed behind us.  I got the impression from James that, no matter what Kris did or where he went, James would be right there with him.  Again, I wasn’t sure that was a good thing.  But, what the hell, I was already in way over my head.  What difference would it make to see this through now?

            The formal English garden that greeted me was impressive.  I didn’t think there was a single pebble out of place.  The huge tract of completely untouched land just beyond the garden didn’t fit the scene.

            “Okay.  I’m here.  Why’d you bring me out here?”

            Kris didn’t answer.  He passed through the garden into that undeveloped land and chose a game trail.  James stopped at the edge of the trees.  I hesitated, unsure of what to do.  James gestured for me to follow Kris.

            “You feel better out here,” Kris said once James couldn’t hear us anymore.

            “And how do you know that?”

            “I told you.  You’re a druid.  I’m a faoladh, werewolf for lack of a better translation.  I know what you feel, what you need.  That’s my job.”

            This guy was seriously creeping me out.  What the hell was going on here?

The State of Me Address

Okay, so it isn't going to be anything as formal as the State of the Union address, but I thought I'd try to catch everyone up on what I've been doing (and yes, I know the State of the Union address isn't happening currently but the whole idea of playing off the Inauguration seemed a bit conceited to me).

I think the biggest thing is that my son just turned 5 months old.  He's proving to remain a handful.  He doesn't think he needs nap time, he tries to take his spoon to feed himself and if it isn't what he wants, he isn't shy about letting me know that, too.  And forget about crawling.  He's much more interested in standing.  My mother wished a child just like me on me.  I think she got her wish.  The part I laugh at is she helps provide daycare for him so I don't think her revenge is working out quite as well as she hoped.

I still work with my teenagers and, while I really enjoy working with them, they have been enough to drive me up the wall lately.  My heart always breaks for them.  They've seen such rough and difficult things, things no kid should ever have to deal with.  The ones that make it through all of the bull with a great sense of humor and end up doing well make it worth it.

NaNoWriMo 2012 was a total bust.  I think I got about 3000 words of the 50000 goal written.  But, my son turned 3 months old then, I'd just gone back to work not long before and the holidays, yes I'm counting Christmas in there, happened instead.  But, I kept the ideas and plan on revisiting them.  Hopefully soon.

And, to me, the biggest accomplishment so far is that I've officially been blogging here for 2 years.  More people are stopping by (at least as far as I can tell they are - and if that's not true, please don't burst my bubble, just let me pretend...) and I'm still here!

Anyways, that's about where things are at.  Hopefully I can keep the routine T and I are on going and I'll be able to get a few more posts up more often.

Suspicion

Trifecta's 33 word prompt for the weekend was to choose one of the pictures provided and write 33 words inspired by it.  Here's the picture I chose and what it inspired:

Bruno. C. / Art Photos / CC BY



 

 

 

Suspicion. 

Veiled joy. 

What do you want?  What are you going to do to me? 

Peace in poverty. 

Worry in wealth. 

 How are you going to change my world?  For better or worse?

 

 

 

 

Be sure to check out the other pictures, as well as the excellent literary offerings inspired by them, at www.trifectawritingchallenge.com

My Man T

Write at the Merge gave us two words today - gossamer and affinity.

 

 

It took me a bit to respond to this prompt.  It wasn’t until I saw Kathleen’s thumbnail that the pieces started falling in place.  That photo brought me back to my son’s stay in the level 2 nursery when he was born.  It was both the happiest and hardest week of my life. Two things to understand about this story is that he is my only child at this time and that, when he was born, I realized it was a huge part of my purpose in life to be his mother.

When my son, T, was born, he was only five pounds three ounces – too small to go to the regular nursery - even though he was only 5 days early.  He was born at 7:48 PM.  I didn’t get to see him again until about 1:00 AM.  The next time I saw him after that, he had an I.V. and multiple wires attached to his tiny body because he was struggling to maintain his own blood sugar.  The harsh contrast between his soft, delicate little body and those thick, heavy lines really hit me hard. The doctors and nurses said that wasn’t unusual in a baby so small, but why did it have to happen to my son?

It went downhill from there for a while.  At about three days old, he also got a feeding tube as he wouldn’t nurse and fell asleep part way through his bottle.  The day T’s nurse came and told me he was going to have to stay in the hospital after I was discharged just about killed me.  Unfortunately, that was also my husband’s birthday.  Talk about a party killer.

Once I was home it got a bit easier.  But I knew my place was with him.  It was so natural and right I struggled with not being able to do it.

Thankfully, T is a stubborn little man.  After pulling his own I.V. out twice on the hospital staff, they decided to leave it out.  His blood sugar remained stable without it.  We got to bring him home the next day.  Since then he has remained a stubborn, squirmy and precocious little boy who thinks he should be able to stand at just barely 5 months old

I know I got lucky with T.  It could have been so much worse.  For too many mothers, it is.  I am so thankful every day that T keeps getting bigger and stronger.  I’ll even put up with his penchant for standing and wanting to do things for himself.

My thumbnail this week is a picture of T at less than 24 hours old...

A Choice

This time I combined Trifecta's prompt with the Write At the Merge prompt.  Partly because I am still looking for time to write between a busy work schedule and caring for my 5 month old.  But also because, after mulling over the prompts for a while, they came together in the scene below.  I'm not sure what else there is to the scene at this point, but it is a turning point for Shay.  That's for certain.  Anyways, here were the prompts -

Write At the Merge had us combining a beautiful photo of hot air balloons and the Nirvana song "Plateau".

Trifecta gave us the word Intention.

Here's my offering:

“It’s okay, baby.  We’ll move to Mexico.  Caden can learn Spanish,” his voice faded into a buzz.

It was always the same.  Start over with something else, or somewhere else.  That was always the answer.  Shay’d lost track of how many times Robert told her that.  Each time he managed to convince her that things would be different, that this time it would work.

But nothing ever changed.  Robert would end up doing the same shit and, before long, the same speech would begin again.  Move to a new place, start a new career.

Shay felt like she’d gotten waylaid somewhere along her way to the top.  She’d always aspired to higher things.  Then, somehow, she found herself stuck with Robert.  Pretty, grand words floated in a majestic cloud around him.  But never anything more than another good intention.

That night she chose.  Shay ghosted around the ramshackle apartment collecting her and Caden’s things.  They made a pretty meager pile by the door.  Once they were loaded into the car, she picked up Caden from his temporary nest of blankets on the floor and strapped him in his car seat.  Once he was secured in the car, she drove away.

Will Robert even notice we’re gone, she thought as she glanced back once.  The rundown apartment building dwindled into nothingness in her rearview mirror, taller peaks growing in her mind’s eye.

Wishing

More than a month of neglecting this poor blog and now two posts in one day.  How fortuitous.  I love that word. 

Be sure to check out my earlier post - How to Survive.  I am just realizing there's a bit of a theme to my bits today.

Anyways.  This one is my take on the prompt from Write on Edge's new prompt format, Write at the Merge.  We get a standing 500 words and two things with which to inspire our piece.  This week the two things were the song "The Past and Pending" by The Shins and the word "wish".

While coming in well under the 500 words, I'm not sure my piece needs much else.  Don't get me wrong.  A bit of fine tuning and editing wouldn't hurt, but I don't know that it needs huge amounts of expansion.  Please let me know if I am wrong on that one.  Also be sure to check out the other takes on the prompt here.

On that note - here's my piece.

I sat there, caressing the cold, matte black metal.  This is what my life came down to.  Looking at the hardened steel, I wondered how much blood was on my hands.  More than I really wanted to admit.  I know that for sure. 

That train of thought led me to idle speculation about what my life could have been like.  There was no question where it was going.  A hard, probably brutal, death on the street was all I could look forward to.  But what could it have been like?  What if I would have just accepted being a hot bit to look at on some rich guy’s arm?  Yeah.  I’d have had to accept some damn distasteful things while I was at it.  Would that life have been so bad?.  But I knew I was kidding myself.  I couldn’t have lived that life.  I would never have been able to accept anyone walking on me.  Not after what happened.

That night was why I did what I did, why I became what I am.  I wasn’t going to let anyone walk on me ever again.  It took a long time, a fair amount of pain and more blood than I could ever wash away, but no one has ever taken advantage of me again.  They said I’d never make it in this life; that being a female in this line of work was ridiculous.  Most everyone who’s had the balls to tell me that to my face aren’t saying much anymore.  I’ve gone up against the best when they’ve come after me.  And I’ve won.

But there’s a small part of me that wishes I could go back and undo my past; that I could take the high road instead of selling myself out.

A small noise broke into my thoughts.  Soft taps of footsteps on pavement were heading my way.  The time for thinking was over.  I had to work. 

How to Survive

Hey!  Yes - I made it back here.  Between having an infant and the holidays, I ended up neglecting this blog rather shamelessly.  But, now that the holidays are over and my son and I are settling into a routine while my hubby is at work at nights, I am hoping to get back here a little more regularly.  I can't promise to read all of the links to the wonderful sites I visit for writing prompts, but I will do what I can.

On that note, I loved Trifecta's prompt this week:

This week we want you to write on the third definition of:
survive

1: to remain alive after the death of <he is survived by his wife>
2: to continue to exist or live after <survived the earthquake>
3: to continue to function or prosper despite : withstand <they survived many hardships>

Please remember:

• Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.

• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.

• The word itself needs to be included in your response.

• You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above. 

• Only one entry per writer.
• Trifecta is open to everyone!!  Please join us.

Here's my response.  Please enjoy and then check out some of the other wonderful responses here.

            I glanced around for any sign of pursuit.  The busy bookstore was a great place to try to spot who was tailing me this time.  A sign on the shelf in front of me caught my attention.

            Self Help

            I gave a silent laugh at the irony.  I had significant doubts that there among the books on how to cope with a divorce, parenting or new relationships would be a book on how to survive a concentrated covert government attempt to erase every trace you ever existed.

            That was when I spotted the bald man.  He’d followed me before.  I knew this time I’d have to do something more drastic.  I let him see me as I left the store.  As I figured, he followed me out.  That was his mistake.