My all too wide rear on the front page is what started it. Working the finish line of a race, I was only secondary in the picture, but that rear shot bothered me.
Five days later I walked into a gym and sat on an exercise bike for the first time in a long forever.
That was last August. Since that first tentative ride I’ve worked my way up to 45-60 minutes, adding treadmill time and lifting weights.
My weight? Yes, that number has decreased as well. The derriere will be a bit smaller on this year’s front page story.
Written for the challenge REWORK from Velvet Verbosity.
I have not been able to write all week – busy at work, although that is not the real reason. My mind has been filled with despair, compassion, heartbreak, love, a myriad of emotions. I don’t really need to spell out the reasons, do I?
Things have rocked our world this week – explosions man-made and explosions chemical-based. Both types cost lives: lives of the innocent; lives of the guilty; lives of first reponders. Both types cost innocence: what do you tell your children when so much chaos and blood and fire and screams flash across your television and computer screens? How do you replace that innocence?
So, I find last week’s Trifecta challenge timely in retrospect and what I posted for the challenge meaningful (at least to me):
Mama, mama, I had a dream!
Tell me, child.
When I’m grown I’m going to tell how beautiful we can be if we only love one another.
That is a wonderful dream, son.
The comments from that post were interesting – people liked the innocence-sweetness of the child. Everyone missed the reference to the Doctor and his I have a dream speech. But, even that aside . . . wouldn’t we all like to reactivate that child-like simplicity? That dream of how beautiful we can be . . . if we only love one another?
I know that dream is what allows me to sleep.
Maybe it will allow me to begin again to create – to write. Until that time, I bid you good-night and sweet dreams and peace.
Is this thing on? I always worry that I’ve forgotten something.
It’s hard for me to tell you these things, Susie, but now it’s time. I’m not your dad.
Your dad is . . . shoot!
33 words! That’s the weekend challenge from trifecta’s wordy editors – write 33 words (only!) in 1st person narrative. Phew!
Fatty, Fatty, two by four
Can’t get through the kitchen door
Taunts given by long ago classmates
Sting my eyes
As sweat drips
And I ride away the pounds
Sixty years later
Trifecta’s Weekend Challenge: This weekend we’re asking for 33 of your own words that exorcise a demon. One of your own, or one from your imagination. Let it bleed on the page.
This is a community-judged challenge. So, if you read, and like, I would be honored to receive your vote. I would encourage you to read the other entries as well. There will only be 12 hours to vote, so watch that count-down clock over at Trifecta.
The news was greeted with sighs and wistful smiles. Hopes pinned on one candidate vanished with the flick of a wrist. Small town politics at its best, the race had been hard fought, harder won. Someone sobbed in his beer. The other hoisted an aged whiskey in salute.
“Good thing this only happens once every four years.”
“You’re right, Harold. If this campaign had lasted one more day you would have had a divorce decree acting as coaster to that glass.”
“Awww, Margie. C’mere and give me a kiss. My people are waiting. You and me, girl. You and me.”
Velvet Verbosity tells about an upcoming nerdery-competition held jointly with writers from the 100 Word Challenge and the Trifecta Writing Challenge, but does not forget to give us a 100 word challenge . . . VANISHED.