Category Archive:words

With all the angst in the FaceSpace world, Sara Jane found herself reeling. Words and sentiment were bandied about constantly: You whore! You slut. LOL. LMFAO. Friends friending – then un-friending at each perceived slight.

“I’m so lonely, but nobody must know.

I should update my status – EVERYONE must know.”

It was easier when she was just a blogger. Now people peeked into her every move. Inside her heart she could hear her mother tsk-ing and feel her shaking her finger in her face.

Child, you’ve certainly made a spectacle of yourself now, haven’t you?

Mother, please! It’s my life!
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Velvet chose SPECTACLE this week for her 100 Word Challenge. These are my 100 words – where are yours?


Rod leaned on the counter pleading. “It’s Mom’s 86th birthday. I have to be there tonight.”

The clerk listened, nodded, repeated: next flight is 2:30 a.m. You will have to wait until then.

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After looking several times at the picture provided to us by those photogenic Trifecta editors, I noticed way in the dark background a young man leaning on the counter. Hmmm, what is HIS story? Thus these 33 words. I imagine there is much more to tell.
🙂

“We’re mad as hell! We’re not going to take it anymore,” they chanted to their “superior” as she called herself. She cowered in her office. Her supervisor attempted to calm her. “Come to my office,” said she.

“I can’t go out there! Please send someone to get me.”

“You’re an adult. Open your door.”

She cautiously peeked out to find placards strewn across the carpet in front of her door. A chicken on one: “Fowl Play;” a raven on another with a circle and line through it: “Crow no more.”

“I knew taking chicken off the menu was a mistake!”
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This is for Lance’s 100 Word Song challenge: Revolution. I was pleased to be allowed to choose this week’s song after Lance read last week’s entry about Annie – Telling Stories.

Of course, the new tune had to come from my generation – thus the Beatles and Revolution. Of course, I then had brain blockage as I tried to come up with 100 words worthy of the song – and the challenge. I ventured into the world of the grandest revolutions in “recent” history, but decided I could do none of them justice. So, SNARK wins out in the end. The above is a mostly fictitious piece. It, as always, has some element of truth hidden within the lines. Chicken, anyone?

Joe adjusted the microphone, cleared his throat, winced at the feedback.

Life is fragile, my friends
Lacie accepted that

Her life was a tenuous thread
Woven ‘round you and me

The day that thread was cut
Severing her earthly tether
Was the day Lacie

BECAME

This reading room is dedicated to
Her improbable, impromptu
Spirit

She lives on here
She lives on in our hearts

Joe turned from the podium, tugged on the tasseled cord and revealed the eclectic library behind him. Amid colorful chairs and rugs was a mural of Lacie surrounded by and reading to hordes of children.
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Loving having VV back with us, challenging us. This is in answer to her current well-packed challenge FRAGILE. Go on over and give her 100 of your words.

No, Janelle. Really. It’s no trouble at all. I can watch the counter for you and run my reports, too.

Sharon was surprised at the sarcasm dripping from her own tongue. Her coworker didn’t seem to notice and Sharon breathed a sigh of relief. Trouble comes in many shapes and sizes. Letting it get in the way of her workaday world would not be wise.

Taking over work for another was really not a problem, although it could be a challenge to switch brain gears from her own job to the other. Nevertheless she could rise to that occasion more quickly than switching gears in her private life. At least the work situation was temporary.

Changing life gears would be more challenging, but achievable. Nobody need know until she was ready to share.

Not sure when that will be, Sharon mumbled.

What? No, Ma’am, I’m sorry. I was talking to myself. How can we help you today? Janelle? She’s on a break. I’m happy to help you find what you are seeking. No, it’s no trouble at all.

Working at the upscale boutique had been one of the things Mark liked about her. He liked the opportunities to rub shoulders with designers at the many cocktail parties. “I’m bringing my portfolio tonight, Sharon,” he’d say as they dressed for a party. It was over her objections that he did so again and again. Janelle never let her live it down during the week following each party.

“Mark is sure eager, isn’t he?” she’d snipe at Sharon. “Tacky of you to let him bring the notebook,” she’d go on. Sharon would nod, trying not to let it get to her. Later she would breathe heavily into the mirror, mouthing the conversation she wished she could have with Janelle.

Which to dump first? Mark or this job? Sharon heard her Mom: “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Sharrie. You don’t need anyone. Go out and get them.”

Mark then. She dialed his number.

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It’s TROUBLEsome, but the feisty editors at Trifecta challenged us to write 33-333 words on trouble. This is a bit longer than I generally write, but Sharon needed her say. Who are you speaking for today?