100 Words – VAGUE

Shadowed forms in dark relief against the frosted panes. Moving back and forth in vague, aimless fashion. A woman screamed, a baby cried. Then silence.

When would they get there? Why was she alone for this?

“Chris!”

Thank heavens, someone was coming.

The light disappeared, the shadows gone. All that was left was broken panes, and empty room.

“Chris? What happened?”

She stepped forward, ignoring the arrival of her friend, looking into what had been the birthing room of the old hospital.

She’d thought a ghost hunt would be fun. She hadn’t imagined the sting of pain she’d feel. “Nothing.”

*************

Please, visit Velvet’s site to check out other more worthy entries…

Photo-poetry


Autism

They were all

Paper

Folded precise

They freed him

From the prison of his mind.

******************************************

*Apparently I’m feeling creative today. I wrote both my photo-poetry piece and my 100 words or less piece.  Since this challenge is a 1-day and I have until Saturday to post my 100 words, I’m posting this now 🙂

****

Please head on over HERE and check out the rest of the entries.  I’m certain they’re all fun and unique!!!

*******************

PhotoPoetry – new challenge find

I’ve found a new weekly challenge to participate in.  It’s a photo-poetry challenge.  Every week a new photo is posted and using it as inspiration, you’re supposed to write a poem of 15 words or less.  Definitely a challenge for me to keep it short.  Here’s my first attempt with this weeks photo:

One by one.

Slow. Torturous.

Sudden. Rapid.

Collapse.

True joining.

One at last.

******************************************

******************************************

******************************************

******************************************

Please head on over HERE and check out the rest of the entries.  I’m certain they’re all fun and unique!!!

*******************

Definitely a different challenge.  I really do hope to make this blog about more than challenges and prompts soon…but real life is not allowing time right now.  I’m still writing regularly about why real life is so swamped over at Redefining Perfect…but considering this coming week I’m supposed to be participating in many workshops at an online writers conference I hope to have far more fodder for this place soon.

100 Words – DITCH

My heart pounds in my ears. Shaking hands check my watch again. What is taking her so long today?  Did she know?  How could she know?  I still have twenty minutes before they’d call.

There. Her car’s pulling out of the driveway, and I duck back behind the neighbor’s house.  Wait just two minutes now. Make certain she is gone. I won’t get caught. I haven’t yet.

The minute it’s clear I head back inside the house.  I make the requisite phone call, grab a book and settle in for a day without torment.  They’ll never know I’ve ditched school.

*********************

~~Disclaimer: My entry for this week’s 100 words may or may not be based on true events.  The image may or may not be of the real school involved in the alleged event. The perpetrator may or may not have been caught after 4 successful alleged ditchings. The perpetrator may or may not have been me.  The alleged ditching’s may or may not have occurred because of regular torment by classmates. Middle School kids + one geekish girl w/ braces and bad acne = combustible situations.

*****

Please, visit Velvet’s site to check out other more worthy entries…

Why I write…

To this day if you ask my dad he’ll tell you that at the ripe young age of 3 years old I was reading the reader’s digest cover to cover.  That’s not entirely true – there were still a few words I didn’t understand, but I did love to read.  I would pick it up and look through it.  I would read my picture books but I was hungry for more.

My brother, on the other hand, was not.  He didn’t care to read, still doesn’t. Even now he will most likely only read a book if it’s on tape.

When I was still 3 years old I remember sneaking into my brother’s room.  On his sparse book shelf, on the very bottom shelf sat a blue box with 9 blue books inside.  I grabbed one and saw the picture of a little girl on the cover.

Then I started reading.

For weeks I would sneak into his room and read pages of this fascinating book until finally I got the courage to say “He won’t read this. It’s for GIRLS,” and took that box of books right out of his room.

Until I graduated high school I read those 9 books over and over again (It was 18 times from the time I stole them until the day I graduated).

Laura Ingalls story fascinated me.  All of it.

The way they lived. Traveled. What they ate. What they sang. What they WORE. Oh, what they wore kept me even more enthralled (still does, but that’s another post).

I wanted to live it, breathe it, learn it.

The first thing I really wrote was a play based on Plum Creek, which I performed with my best friend and several other friends in 6th grade.  I wrote papers about Laura in high school. I read biographies.

I branched out.  I learned more about the late 1800’s. Read up on the Old West. The people, the way of speech, the way of life.

Rich folk, poor folk, everyone in between.  I couldn’t get enough.

I watched Dr. Quinn with rapt attention, noting historical inconsistencies, but enjoying the setting anyway.  Long after that was gone Deadwood came along.  Once it was out on DVD and we had netflix, I watched every episode of that as well.

Once I started to write, I tried to write other genres, time periods, but every time it fell flat.  When they say to write what you know, they mean it.

I’m certain I’m not the only one inspired, or enthralled by, Laura’s books.  Even now if I’m feeling uninspired or just need a “comfort book” (the way some people need comfort food), these are the first things I grab. I love to be By the Shores of Silver Lake, or see The Happy Golden Years again.  My first box of these books are very dogeared and worn down – so they reside in a place untouched by human hands now and I’ve got a new set to read to my girls…but I will never toss the old ones out. They are my first real books – ones I will always hold dear to my heart.

100 Words – Jar

What Can’t Be Captured

Her legs swing beneath the chair, shiny black shoes tapping against each other with a faint squeak at each pass.

Chin on her hands, her brown eyes dart back and forth, up and down. In the jar before her the lights flicker bright, zooming in the confined space.  In moments she morphs, frail and old, staring at the same jar, now filled up with lights.

One light flares bright, lighting up her face in a smile, her eyes shine in memory.

Around it so many dim and die – you can’t save every memory.  Important ones shine while others fade away.

*************

The prompt of Jar immediately made me think of fireflies in a jar – but as one who never actually collected fireflies in a jar (I know, the horrors!!) – this is the 100 words that evolved.

Check out the other entries at Velvet’s place…


(Click above to find the challenge!)