Friday, September 9, 2016

First Line writing Prompt: I stood there waiting at the space port

Sibyl

 I stood there waiting at the space port with everyone else. Even though this flight was unusual, it had sparked little interest. I was just there, like the others, casually observing the event as I took my meal break. 

We were a small silent group each thinking our own thoughts. My thoughts, I am sure were much like the rest- asking the same questions that no one dared give voice. Rumors were that life was again possible on earth but earth to me was just an entry in the archives. I wondered about the place though and from the images, it seemed to filled with much beauty and color. 

The broad doors behind us opened and a keeper carrying a tiny animal creature walked down the ramp. Our eyes met in that sparse moment as they passed - mine and Sibyls’. 

I don’t know why I stepped out of my place and followed. Perhaps, it was because we shared the same name or maybe it was the terrified pleading look I saw in her sad eyes. Who knows what makes a person do things. 

I knew little of animals except the basic knowledge provided by the archives. I’d never even seen one before today. It was said, however that they were vicious and hateful but I was intrigued none the less. 

There were two seats aboard the Blaster, one for the human and one for the animal. The human seat, of course, was optional but I could go if I wanted to. I was of eighteen years and female. Those were the only requirements for a human passenger. The keeper pointed to a seat and I sat down and secured my strap. Then he strapped the quivering Sibyl next to me. He went out and retuned in a moment with two baskets. Provisions for the trip I guessed. I saw fruit on top, bananas I believe they were called. I hoped there was some human food in there too as I had eaten very little of my meal/

The keeper closed the door, pushed the button on the launch pad and we were off. I don’t know why these machines were called “Blasters” because they made no sound. The only sounds I heard were the whisperings of our breath and the beating of our hearts.

Sybil unstrapped herself and moved towards me. She put her arms around my neck and laid her head upon my shoulder. She remained in that position a long while. At last her quivering stopped and I felt her begin to relax.

She lifted her head and peered into my face. Her eyes were two bright stars. She began examining my hair. She selected a single strand and stretched it out full length. She continued in the same manner until all my hair was loosed from its binding and floated free. 

I spoke to her in quiet soothing tones repeating her name over and over. She responded with a strange low humming. She stroked my cheek with her tiny hands and I was sure I had made a new friend. 

I reached back and took a banana from the basket and offered it to her. 
She stared at it a moment and then bit off the end of my thumb.

Blood erupted from my wound like a fountain spray. I watched fascinated as the drops coagulated and formed into many angry red splotches. 

I touched the button marked “emergency” and my injury was instantly encased in clear plastic. There was no pain and the blood disappeared rapidly and was soon gone. I had no clue how or where it went.

Sybil sat in her seat calmly watching me. When she was sure she had my full attention, she pointed to a smooth control panel where colored lights flashed on and off in rhythmic pattern. 

Just below that, I noticed a small sign. There scrawled in ancient cursive handwriting I read, “Do not feed the animal”.    


         C copy write By Deborah J Lindsey September, 2016 

Thursday, September 8, 2016

Writing Prompt: Create a new world

-Create a New World- Writing Prompt

I suppose a proper beginning would be to “look up” the word, “world.”

The “Look up” method as opposed to research is usually best. “Look up” satisfies the quick curiosity most of the time and will never make you late for a train.

Back in the old days, before modern travel and convenience, Webster’s Dictionary was the way to go. Webster’s, back then was a real hard copy book that you could hold in your hand. Well, maybe not in your hand as a Webster’s Dictionary was quick thick and heavy.

Using Webster’s was fairly safe. All you had to do was to jump in, get your information jump out. The train usually never left the station and there were no side tracks or scheduling problems and most assuredly, no derailments or lost trains.

Still, a person had to be on alert. There was danger.

Once, I decided to read each and every listing in Webster’s. Yes, A-Z - aristocrat to zephyr. Fool hardy, I agree but a noble undertaking to say the least.

Of course, I never accomplished my goal and I believe that this one failed trip is the cause of much of my emotional distress today. My thought process was somehow altered. Often I find myself seriously disliking trains and at times, even hating them.

Now days, it seems to takes me hours to find the train I started on but more often than not, I never find it. In fact, I lose my train completely.

“One box car shy of a full load” or “senior moment” as I’ve heard it sometimes referred to .

Anyway, the main problem is with all of the “sees”.
For example, take the word kangaroo.
Kangaroo: kan guh roo / noun/ marsupial native to Australia. From the family Macropodidae (macripods) meaning “large foot”
(see: Australia, see: Joey)

“Sees “are far too complex for most adults much less a simple child. A trip to “see” Australia could and most certainly would end in disaster. Managing the tickets, what to eat, what to wear, where to go to the bathroom, and grumpy conductors, just to mention a few obstacles would overwhelm even the strongest constitution and Imagine if you will, the number of folks named “Joey”- thousands, perhaps millions! Consider as well all the “Josephs” and “Joes”. Impossible!

“The World Book Encyclopedia”, In the old days, was also a real hazard to health and wellbeing. In fact, I would dare say more dangerous than Webster’s but children were never warned.

 In fact, if a family could afford a set, they were the envy of the neighborhood and children having the advantage of this educational tool were considered to be naturally brighter, smarter and more adept than most ordinary children and much more desired by parents.

World Books came to you personally in the form of a retired lady school teacher.

“Research! Your child will need these books!” The teacher baited. She dangled Volume “F” in front of us.

“Just look at this frog”
We stared google-eyed.

“Your child can dissect him right here-page by page. “
She moved the magic pages back and forth. “dissecting” the frog and then putting his parts back together. (Do kids still dissect frogs?)

There was a human body too in Volume “H“ Where You could remove all the organs and put them back together page by page just like the frog but the frog is what really sold the lot.

We had a set in our home and those books along with my early experiences with Webster’s caused me to become an addict.

It innocently began with the simple “look up”and then before I knew it, I had moved on to the hard stuff- research..

“Sees” can be managed if one is watchful but the “sees” are greater and more intense in the volumes. There are so many possibilities.

This is what happens: “sees” develop into “book worms” and these “worms” travel hither and thither from one volume to another growing bigger and stronger all the while.

 They become so bloated with data, maps, illustrations, charts, tables of contents and indexes that you become totally lost and fall into a stupor. You may wake up several days later buried beneath piles of volumes and When you finally dig yourself out, you may discover, as I can attest to that fact first hand, that you have somehow acquired a baby kangaroo, married a bloke named Jack and are scheduled to speak at a “Big-foot” convention in Toledo. Be careful!
World
noun \ war-ald
1. the earth: and all the people and things on it
2. And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea. Revelation 21:1
Deborah J Lindsey September, 2016

Thursday, August 18, 2016

Writing Prompt 8.18. 2016 First line prompt

Writing Prompt 8.8.2016

Lunch was almost ready.  Would he actually come?  Beth sighed and checked the table for the fifteenth time.  The food smelled delicious and the table looked beautiful.  Lunch was simple- home-made chili with corn bread and a crisp green salad with tomatoes and cucumbers. Peach cobbler was the dessert. The table cloth was red and white checked and looked inviting and cheerful.  Beth sat down to wait.


She waited a long time.   He never came. She should have invited me.  I would have come and I would have brought some flowers for her table. I love chili and cornbread and peach cobbler is a favorite of mine.  I heard the invitation when it was offered and I heard him accept.  I wish she would have asked me.  She deserved better-much better.  

Thursday, August 11, 2016

Writing Prompt (use these words) Unicorns Never Listen

Writing Prompt... Use these words in a story. Here's Mine
Rainbow
Koala
Grass
Pizza
Lick
Polka Dots
Flood

Unicorns Never Listen

“Quick! Quick!” Frantic ed Bob Koala.
“Run for your life! A flood is coming!”

The unicorn stopped munching grass raised his head and stared a long moment at Bob. Then just because he could, he gave his beautiful mane a toss and sparkled rainbow sparkles all over him. Then just for fun, he whip-whashed his long tail and glittered Bob in a glittery shower of glitters.

Bob shook himself and frowned. He was a serious black and white little bear and did not care one spec for sparkles or glitters. Besides that, this unicorn was not listening.

“Frantic ed ?” The unicorn mused flicking a bit of his pizza lunch high into the air. Then he opened his mouth wide and gobbled it down in one big gobble most impolitely.

Bob was not at all surprised to see a unicorn eating pizza because everyone knows that unicorns are always hungry and will eat almost anything. In fact, he heard it told that upon a long once ago a unicorn was so hungry that he lick ed the dots clean off of a polka and then he ate the dish.

“Franticed?” The unicorn ventured letting the word drip slowly from his tongue. Another thing about unicorns was they often had to eat their words. They never swallowed them but always spit them out.

“Frantic ed” splitted and splatted and landed in a heap at Bob’s feet.

“I say, the unicorn continued.”

“I say that word
is really rather absurd.
In fact, I surmise
it can never be “cized”,
conjugated or “corelized,”
at all at all.
Do you have a “blighter”
Installed as your writer?”

Bob sighed and ran as far and as fast as he could. He ran far away from the unicorn. He climbed to the tippy-top of a Eucalyptus Tree. Oh how he wished he had listened more carefully to his Mother’s teachings.
1. Unicorns never ever listen (especially the sparkly kind)
2. Unicorns rhyme very badly
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Friday, August 5, 2016

Writing Prompt: That is why I think my coworker is a troll.

Writing Prompt: That is why I think my coworker is actually a troll.

Even though I am way down the ladder of success, I am naturally curious and extremely observant.  I know things.  Working in the mail room as I do has given me the unique opportunity to be a “snoop.”  Lately. my focus has been on this one particular guy.  His office is just one of many that share the 15th floor or “Suit City” as I often refer to it.

Every suite holds a receptionist who sorts out the folks and keeps the general order.   Easy peasy for me.  The mail to them usually just goes in the “in” basket on the desk.  Sometimes, however the gal insists I put the mail directly in her hand.  Mostly, those kinds work for the “higher-ups-chief executors, vices. directors and such.

Beyond, the lady gate keeper and crowd control queen are the offices of the VIPs.  The door announcing each particular individual discretely boasts the name in prominent gold and black lettering.  The strange part is that actual first names are omitted.  It’s always just initials. I guessed the reasoning behind that had something to do with work place equality or diversional rules and policies or it could be just a suit who didn’t care for his first name all that much and rather than call undue attention required everyone to use initials.
So, I was accustomed to seeing doors with names like R. Johnson. B. Smith. or the occasional odd one or two like I.D. Maker and H.R. Resource.

The tip off for me that the guy in Suite 418B was different- I mean very different was his name. Of course, there were other things too I noticed as I have stated before I am quite observant.  The pictures hanging on the walls of his office were all bridges. In fact, I’d venture to say more than half of them depicted as a main subject the specific spaces under bridges.  And there were lots of statues-  gnomes, fairies, elves, gargoyles and the like scattered tastefully about the room.  There was even a gold framed photo of that ogre chick from that fairy tale movie on his desk. What washer name?  Freeona?

All of the above mentioned were pretty positive clues but when I saw him reading “Three Billy Goats Gruff” I was sure.  Well, that and the name on his door.  (A. Troll )was his name. That is why i think my coworker is actually a troll.




Writing Prompt: Sam refused to relieve me from my duty again.

Writing Prompt:   Sam refused to relieve me  from my duty again.


Sam  just stared as he stood
looking and looking.
Facinated by  ham
 that I  was  just cooking.

The ham, of course,
 sat quite green on a plate.
Sam shook his head,
No, I already ate.

Relieve me from duty!
Please Sam, I am!
I've frenched and I've fried.
I've spicked and I've spammed.

It's your turn to serve
these diners to dine.
I've worried and scurried,
Just look at that line!

The Lorax was offended
He peeked down through the leaves.
Quiet!  Yall shush!
 I can't hear the trees.

Horton trumped his trumpter.
Yes, me too.
I can't hear a what,
 a when or a who.

Relieve me from duty!
Now! Sam I am.
I am dizzy and whizzy
from  green eggs and ham.

Sam bowed a low bow,
Then in  whispery wheeze,
To be sure, Sweet Madam.
You need only say PLEASE.

Wednesday, August 3, 2016

Writing Prompt: "Who is It?"

Writing Prompt:  "Who is It?"



 "Who is it?" I asked my teenage son. "Who is knocking at the door?"
" I don't know, I'll check."
I heard him shuffle to the door. Why does he always do that? Why doesn't he pick up those feet!" I heard the front door open and strained to listen to what was being said but heard nothing. I flung the covers off and sat on the side of the bed. Still trying to listen as my feet found my slippers.

"WHO IS IT?" I yelled down the hall.
Shuffling feet came closer.
"Well, it could be the milk man but we get our milk fromthe grocery." Shuffler said with a laugh.
"Or it could be Herman Munster."
That surprised me. I didn't think he knew who Herman Munster was but I was certain it wasn't him at the door.

Feet came closer still.

"Or it might have been Nicolas Cage or Clark Gable?"

I finally jump from my bed and fly down the hall.
I grabbed the shuffler, stared directly into his face.
"Who was it?" I yelled.

"Oh, who was it at the door you mean-just now?"
"YES! YES! Who?"
The sufffler had me andhe knew it. He let me dangle a moment.

"It was a stranger and I didn't talk to him because you said never to talk to strangers.