I missed my flight. Bound to happen. Of course, I’m blaming him. Sent him back three times; cell phone, watch, oxygen. Who forgets oxygen when traveling to Mars?
Sigh. I’ll be there soon.
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for Trifecta’s challenge: flight using the third definition:
3a : a trip made by or in an airplane or spacecraft
b : a scheduled airplane trip
Purple Moose waved his rack
Over the barking dog’s back
His antlers filled the sky
Causing the dog to shy
Showing all
That he, whose rack is biggest
Will tonight sleep the best
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Trifecta’s weekend challenge: tell us an original fable in exactly 33 words. I checked with the all knowing Wikipedia making sure I knew the parameters of a fable, then came up with the above pithy poem. Enjoy.
🙂
Johnni laughed. She was supposed to keep a diary of her sleep patterns for a week before they would do the sleep study.
She had been faithfully writing; the small journal the lab had given her was becoming dog eared and smudged. Sighing, she took up her pen:
DAY 3: Today is the third day since I started this journal. But it’s my 6th day without sleep. I can’t make the thoughts stop. What is wrong with me? I lie here night after night thinking TONIGHT is the night I will be able to sleep.
Question: is exhaustion my new normal?
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Written for two weekly prompts: Trifecta’s NORMAL and Velvet Verbosity’s EXHAUSTION.
“What was that? Who’s there?â€
The girls clutched at each other in fear. Being there was against the rules and every creak and whisper set their hearts a-flutter.
“You go first . . .â€
“No, you . . .â€
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The weekend challenge from the eye-strained editors at Trifecta is to write the FIRST 33 words (aka incipit) to our books. I grew up reading Nancy Drew, Cherry Ames, and the Hardy Boys (why, yes, I AM old . . . but the books were older than I). My thoughts went immediately to a Young Adult mystery.
What follows is my answer to the Trifecta challenge: to submit a piece of writing, any style, any subject, that is between 333 and 3,333 words. This comes in at just over 1800 words. This is probably R rated – likely not something you would let your kiddos read. With that warning, I give you Sweet Cheeks.
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Laci paid for the taxi, then walked into the noisy bar. Her eyes swept the room and she felt annoyed with how quickly they began to smart and tear in the hazy smokiness.
THWACK! A group of 3 men circled a tall barroom table. They burst into loud laughter while one massaged his shoulder which had a beefy hand clasped upon it. Laci nodded briefly and continued into the room.
A typical small town bar, this place had all the mixed ambience of an ashtray and an outhouse. The walls were painted in a flat, matte black – covered with the tattered remnants of posters nearly as old as her parents.
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