Happy Independence Day, my friends.
A tip of the hat and a salute for our active and retired armed forces. A thanks to the forefathers – and foremothers – of our country who had a vision for our future long before we were we.
Turn off your waterworks.
Ease up with the fireworks.
You are not dying.
It is only a scratch.
Stop crying, for heaven’s sake!
Mother’s hands raise – hover
Then come down with a hug.
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Trifecta’s Week 34 challenge is to write 33-333 words using FIREWORKS in the third definition:
3: plural
a : display of temper or intense conflict
b : a spectacular display [the fireworks of autumn leaves]
My mother would always call my fits of temper “fireworks.” She sometimes raised her hands – sometimes brought them down in other displays than hugs, but not often.
Shelli stared at the words taunting her from her smart pad. The cursor blinked, blinked, blinked, waiting for her to reply.
YOU ARE BEING WATCHED – DO NOT LOOK OVER YOUR SHOULDER. HE IS THERE.
She could barely stand the tension that erupted in her skin. Shelli’s neck kinked and knotted and she felt her shoulders hunch tighter toward her ears.
DO NOT LOOK (blink, blink, blink) The murmur of the others in the coffee shop grew into a cacophony as Shelli debated answering.
Why are you telling me this? What do you want me to do?
SIMPLE. YOU RUN. NOW! . . .
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Okay, now I probably won’t be able to go to sleep for trying to finish this in my dream/wakefulness. This is in reply to Velvet Verbosity’s word of the week: MURMUR.
Yeah, I don’t know where it came from, either. But, I will leave you with it for the night – or to read over your morning coffee. Be careful – don’t look over your shoulder. HE might be there.
Picture from this site.
Geneology
Study of those before me
Done for those to come
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Busy week – a day late on the Friday Haiku hook-up. But, at least I’m here. Genealogy is my latest endeavor. I am sorting through records and pictures and trying to make sense of things so that my girls will have an easier time of it when and if they should so choose.
Sadly, I have waited until all the “old folks” have passed on. We can no longer ask who great aunt Tilly married after great uncle Milt passed away. No, those are not real names in my lines (as far as I know). It IS pretty cool to see where some of the threads lead, though.
June 30th, 2012 / Categories: words /
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Robert barked into the phone, “George, I don’t care what the contractors say, that equipment has to be in place first thing in the morning or we’ll lose the bid. Get on it. I’ll be there in the morning.â€
Flipping the cell phone, Robert tried Angel’s number again. “Answer me, dammit! I’m on my way. Oh, crap! Traffic is backed up. Angel, pick up the phone!â€
Robert tossed the phone onto the dash and began to maneuver through the traffic. He craned his neck as he passed the wreckage, and then looked again.
He recognized the car.
“Angel? ANGEL! NOOOOOO!”
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Lance and LeeRoy have challenged us with an Ani DeFranco song “Cloud Blood” for the 100 Word Song this week. Not sure why Robert and Angel came to mind, but they asked to be let out, so here they are. Try your hand at working with LeeRoy.
