Sunday, September 26, 2010

Nightfall


Today's muse: Three Word Wednesday
Today's three words: gait, nudge, ripen

To add to the challenge, I went with a Twitter format and wrote a one sentence story.

* * *

Nightfall

As night falls and the full moon ripens, his gait moves from stride to limp, nudging his manly form into canine



Friday, September 24, 2010

Dinosaur



Today's muse: The One-Minute Writer
Prompt: Write a brief bit of fiction using the prompt, "Dinosaur."

* * *

Dinosaur

Heavy breathing brushes the back of my neck and the tiny hairs stand upright in a fight or flight stance. A low growl rumbles from the terrifying creature behind me, but I don’t turn around. I tremble in fear; make squeaking noises, too frightened to scream.

The growling becomes louder and I know he will pounce at any moment. I must attack before he does, so I dig deep for courage, whirl around and throw my arms around his torso.

Four-year-old Nathan squeals in delight and we roll on the kitchen floor while Nathan growls through his giggles and I plead for my life through mine.



Thursday, September 23, 2010

Help



Today's muse: One Word
Today's word: Help

* * *


Help

“Hepp,” he says as he taps his left foot on the floor, his arms spread out like a giant T for balance. I look down and see Matthew’s undone shoelace laying limp on his tiny sneaker.

“Hepp!” he says again, this time with much more authority, impatient to get on with whatever important two-year-old task he has abandoned. I bite my lip to hide my smile and bend down to tie up the rogue lace.

“We need to work on your pronunciation,” I say, as he places a hand on each side of my head to steady himself.

When I finish tying his shoe, he presses a firm kiss on my cheek and whispers “yub yoo” then dashes off, no longer worried about tripping.



Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Clean



Today's muse: Sunday Scribblings
Today's word: Clean

* * *

Clean

Water, scalding hot, formed billowing clouds as it sluiced over her. Amanda stood with her hands against the tiled wall, her head bowed beneath the torrent, blonde hair drooped like string. Her skin, red and raw from scrubbing, bled in some places, but that was from him. The bruising was coming up, too, she noted.

She closed her eyes to avoid the angry, purple marks shaped, unmistakeably, like fingers; but when she did, all she could see was his face looming before her, feel the tearing and burning as he—

She dropped to her knees and retched.



Writescape Seminar - Active Voice Part 2


Today's muse: Write to Win seminar with Ruth E. Walker and Dorothea Helms

Prompt: As I mentioned previously, the exercise was writing using active voice.

* * *

Fighting Dirty

Mickey fights real dirty, but like a girl. He pulls my hair and gouges with his vulture fingernails, leaving tiny, red crescent moons on my arms. The last time we went at it, he sank his teeth into my leg. It doesn’t really look like a bite scar cuz Mickey only had six teeth at the time. I tried telling on him, but Mom just rolled her eyes and wagged a finger in my face.

“It wouldn’t hurt,” she said, “if you just shared the chocolate chip cookies with your baby brother.”



Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Swan Song



Today's muse: Spook's Scribblings
Today's word: Song

* * *

Swan Song

Angela’s voice, melodic and clear, drifted through the quiet room. A tradition since Joshua was born, she looked forward to their evening ritual when she sang to him until his eyes fluttered and he faded off to sleep. Dressed in his race car footies, his plump face serene, he seemed to sleep now. She wanted to hear him laugh, tiny bubbles bursting from his gummed mouth. Instead, she comforted herself by singing to him one more time, knowing he had drifted away hours ago. She wondered if he could hear her from the clouds above and hoped, if nothing else, he would remember her swan song.



Monday, September 20, 2010

Writescape Seminar - Active Voice Part 1


Today's muse: Write to Win seminar with Ruth E. Walker and Dorothea Helms

Prompt: Write using an active voice, beginning with "The rain poured down...".

This was a good exercise for me, as I tend to write in a passive voice. The other prompt was "Mickey fights real dirty", which I will use in a future piece. But for now ...

* * *

Rain

The rain poured down in fat drops, plopped onto the front step in almighty splashes. She fumbled with the key, spouted colourful words punctuated with kicks to the door. Raven hair, curled with such care this morning, now hung like burnt spaghetti in her eyes.

She’d kill him for locking her out like this.



Sunday, September 19, 2010

Writescape Seminar - Show Don't Tell


Today's muse: Write to Win seminar with Ruth E. Walker and Dorothea Helms

Prompt: Write about an inanimate object in the room; show, don't tell.

* * *

Time

Round and bright, it shouts out its message to anyone who will turn to look, though no one does. Everyone is determined to ignore it. Long, black arms wave for attention, but remain immobile. Or so it seems.

At times, she thinks, they seem to spin round and round like a vortex, flashing numbers just to trip her concentration.


Wednesday, September 15, 2010

The Pebble



Today's muse: Spook's Scribblings
Today's word: Pebble

* * *

The Pebble

Nathan selected a small, flat stone and, after hefting it in his hand to gauge its weight, sent it skimming across Middleton’s Pond. It skipped once, twice, three times, then did a belly flop, sending rings echoing across the water.

Footsteps approached from behind and he scanned the ground around him, just to be sure; it would be most embarrassing if anything was left behind. A tiny crimson drop caught his eye (the last one, Nathan was sure) and he bent low to pick up the pebble that had caught it. As the policemen approached, he sent it flying through the air with a casual thrust, as though he’d been whiling away the time for hours, just skipping rocks.

Well, he supposed, that was what he'd been doing—sort of.


Monday, September 6, 2010

Downhill Thrills


Today's muse: Three Word Wednesday

Today's three words: break, negative, surface

* * *

Downhill Thrills

“See you at the bottom, turd!” Jamie shouted to his friend, Alan, before jumping onto his bike and roaring down the steep hill. He caught vignettes of scenery as they flashed by his peripheral vision: Alan’s dog racing beside him, Susan Vickerson waving at him from her front lawn, the construction sign that warned of large potholes ahead.

That last scene didn’t register fast enough and Jamie’s front tire dipped into the crater, bringing the back end up and catapulting him over the handlebars.

On the surface, spending the entire summer holidays with a leg bound in plaster sucked big time and put an enormous checkmark in the negative column. But Susan Vickerson came to visit him every day, bringing homemade brownies and rocking with him on the front porch swing well past sunset.

Jamie knew for certain that breaking his leg was worth it, just to taste that first kiss.