Word of the Day: #6-Lame

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My co-worker quit which means I have tons of extra hours, but only one day off each week except this week because there is a holiday, yet my immune system tanked which it never does and NOW my nose is raw from blowing it all damn day!

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Another Failed Attempt

This is for the weekly picture prompt from Ermilia’s Blog

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How many times can one fail at this? The rain bit into my clothes, but I barely felt it past the pain. A man sat hunched over me, but I tried to ignore him.

“Hey! Why did you jump in front of my truck? Can you hear me?”

His hands were warm on the sides of my face. I hope he didn’t mind my tears. I looked to the left where his truck had slid off the road. I guessed he was going to care more about that in a second.

Someone came to a stop. I had to go. I had to disappear before anyone came.

I tried to roll over, but he pinned my shoulders to the ground.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said.

“Get your damn hands off me.” My heart rate accelerated. Well it was good to know I still had one.

“Oh my God, I know you, you’re the–”

“Shut up. Did you call the cops?”

“No-I-I—“

“I’ll pay you a grand if you get me outta here.”

“You need to go to the hospital.”

“Take me to another town, and I will double the amount.”

He looked me over. I could tell from his attire and his truck he needed the money.
“Do you feel any pain in your neck or back,” he asked.

“No, just my left arm—“

“Hey do you guys need help, Should I call the police,” asked a woman who from the car. She had yelled from the lowered window of a shiny Bentley.

“No, we already did,” he said.

“Oh okay, have a good night,” said the woman. What an idiot. Well in my favor thank God she was an Idiot.

“I’m going to pick you up.”

I gritted my teeth and nodded my head.

“Don’t think you can just buy me off,” he said as he gently raised me, “After the hospital you’re going to explain everything.”
We’ll see about that…

Word of the Day: #4-Destruction

Destruction

My hips start to sway in rhythm to the angry tempo of my stomping boots. I tread a trail of anger and frustration. The beat of hate is when the sound of broken dishes or the scene of thrown eggs almost seems satisfying. This is the path of a scorned women. This is what comes before the tears. You feel like screaming at the top of your lungs, but instead lift a glass of destruction to your lips.

Who doesn’t feel destructive sometimes? The important part is to find reason before acting! I find writing and drawing very helpful when I feel this way. What about you? If you have anything to share feel free to comment?

Word of the Day: #3-Lonlieness

Lonlieness

Loneliness is a reoccurring shiver that I can’t shake no matter how warm the room is. I find myself turning on noise where ever I go to drown out the rolling thunder inside my mind. The idea that the following days to come are going to be as lonely as the days before destroys me. Memories plague me to the point of exhaustion. Walking home with just the street lights and seeing only one shadow is the sting of reality.

I just want to say I’m not lonely all the time, but when I moved out on my own I had no idea how badly I would struggle with loneliness from time to time. Some people just aren’t meant to live alone. I really don’t think anyone is, but some do manage it.

Word of the day: #2-Perseverance

perseverance

“Three limbs on the mountain at all times,” That’s what my brother had told me. He was one step farther than me at all times while we scaled the 30 ft. mountain and my eyes were only focused on his moves that way I could exactly replicate them.

The mountain sat 100 ft. from shore and when low tide came the hidden rocky passageway would appear allowing access to any who dared to make the climb.

My forearms, biceps, triceps, shoulders, thighs, calves were on fire, but it was the burn the tells you your alive. Just keep moving.

We were more than halfway up. The next hand hold was out of reach.

“Jim. What do I do?”

“You have to Jump for it,” he said.

What a simple solution. Why hadn’t I thought of it? Well, because it was insane of course. I looked down. I could make my way back down. I looked up. Jim had pulled himself up and over onto the top of the mountain and was now looking down on me. This was the last step.

I couched, sprang, grabbed, and held on for dear life. My heart rate went from upbeat to overtime in two seconds. I scrambled over the edge onto the top. I had made it and it was so worth it.

Do you have any tales of Perseverance? Comment if you do!

View from the top!!!

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Survival with Michael: On the castle steps

Here is my contribution to Ermilia’s Weekly Picture it and write prompt.

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“Did I advise you that this is a bad idea,” I said.
“Did I advise you that we haven’t eaten in two days,” she replied.
“But did I advise you that people seldom make it out of situations like this?”

The wooden porch creaked under our boots, but the crashing waves from the shore below along with the pounding rain quieted our noise to my liking. The castle had the greatest percentage of keeping extra food lying about in this time of shortage. I could likely withstand nine more hours without nourishment, but Rose needed it presently.

The bright moon was high and allowed us to see more proficiently out on the cliff then under the canopy of the coastal forest. The milky light showed a long deck that wrapped around the entirety of the castle. Why you would need a second floor wraparound porch seemed pointless to me, but nevertheless there was a replica porch on both the second and third floor. The floors didn’t end there either. Above the two pointless decks, there were three more housing levels.

“Should we try the door or a window,” Rose asked.

The front doors were solid oak with intricate carvings. I looked at the magnitude of windows. There were too many  to count whilst your stomach makes regrettable noises even though the number would be simple to find, for If you took each window on the first floor and multiplied it by the number of replica floors above and then added that number to the multiplied amount of the different floors above the replica floors, you would get the number of windows for the front of the castle and since the front of the castle had a high chance of matching the back of the castle you would take your total of the front and multiply it by two, but then you would also need to do the same arithmetic procedure for the side of the castle and multiply that number by two and finally you would add both totals together getting the exact number of the dusty dirty windows on the structure, but I was lacking far too much nutrition to waste time on such frivolous calculations.

“Okay, from the annoying silence I’m going to assume you thought way too much about that question,” she said.

Rose kneeled below the door and rolled out the shiny toolset, one of our only possessions of value. I could pick the lock faster, but I appreciate the secret smile she has every time the lock tumbles in the chamber. Right then the wind howled, whipping her blond curls into the air. I also appreciated her curls.

What if this time the home owner was an excellent shot? If only the climate hadn’t turned for the worse, maybe we would have had better hunting along our journey.

“There might be someone home,” I said.
“Michael, didn’t you notice the chimney smoke?”
“Didn’t you notice the 2,682 windows?”

She stopped and turned slowly towards me. I don’t particularly like it when she stares at me blankly with those large green eyes.

She cleared her throat and said, “Is there more or is this one of those statem—“

“Of course there is more. If we happen to become trapped within this monstrosity, window fifteen on the first floor is a great escape route due to the fact that a hedge lies beneath the window.”

She did one of those one eyebrow raises with squinty eyes. I asked her what that meant once before and she told me it meant she believed I was making up things which I told her that I do not in fact make things up, ever.

“I believe you’re in a foul mood due to undernourishment,” I said.
She huffed, gathered the tools, pushed past me and stomped off the deck. I thought she was going to keep walking back into the shadowed forest. Maybe she would want to go hunting instead, but then she turned right back around, up the stairs, and into my face.

“Don’t you want to eat,” she asked.
“Yes.” I let out a breath. My brain sometimes blanks when rose gets close to me. I’m not even sure if it was me talking. “Please except my apology. I was in fear for your life, but now I know no one should anger you when you’re in a foul mood due to hunger.”

She knelt back down to her station and said, “If you say one more thing about my malnutrition or hunger I’m going to punch your pretty face.”

The door clicked and inched open, but she was looking at me instead of her progress. I frowned.
“What now,” she asked.
“You didn’t smile.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Are you hungry or not,” I said and strode past her inquisitive look and into the waiting darkness. We would find something to eat and not talk about smiles or hidden feelings.


I love these prompts. They are fast, fun, and It’s a great way to keep practicing writing skills without the stress of struggling with plot structures and all the other stresses of story making. 🙂 Babbling here, but my point is if you enjoy reading them you should really try writing to them! Just click HERE and it will take you back to Ermilia’s blog who posts the prompts every Sunday.  Hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave a comment, and come back again! –Katie

The Petals of Life

My weekly response to Ermilia’s weekly Picture it and write prompt.

Red In Common

The Photo is from Tumblr

A petal falls, from the tuxedo pocket of a high school boy

A petal falls, from the wrist of a high school girl

Petals have fallen and petals still fall,

Two years of falling petals

A petal falls, from the bouquet of a late fiancé

a petal falls, from the bouquet of a smiling bride

Petals have fallen and petals still fall,

Twenty-two years of falling petals

A petal falls, from the plant in the waiting room

a petal falls, from the plant in the cancer specialist’s office

Petals have fallen and petals still fall

Two months of falling petals

A petal falls, from the bouquet on a hospital bedside tray

A petal falls, from a gripped fist onto the waiting dirt

Petals have fallen and petals still fall,

Tomorrow they will fall again

 

Cruelty of the Bracelet

My weekly response to Ermilia’s weekly Picture it and write prompt.

Rings

How could he take his off? We all have to wear them. We are kept under surveillance around the clock, for “our safety of course”. The law for woman and men to wear the electronic bracelets went into effect many years ago before I was even born. It’s just a part of life for me, but for my grandma it is so much more. Every time we see her in the institution, she talks about the cruelty of the bracelet.

The bracelet always fits just right due to its resizing technology, so technically there’s no reason it should ever need to come off. Well, unless the bracelet happens to malfunction which I’ve never heard of happening.

That was until this morning when I saw Darian running into the forest. I thought he was up to another prank. It was a little soon, since we were both still on shavings clean-up for the rest of the week.  It was a harsh punishment, but I guess that’s what you get for sneaking into the generators to disable all power. I’m not even sure why I went along with such a prank. Usually he has a hilarious reason behind our escapades, but this last time he wouldn’t tell me any of the details. Well to be fair, he told me he was testing a theory and then he slid one of those wicked smiles on me. I know… I’m pretty dumb sometimes when it comes to Darian, but those smiles could probably make me run a mile and I hate running.

I stalked him for a while through the forest, but then he disappeared out of sight. I was trying to pick up his track when BAM something or someone really heavy charged me from the bushes. I ended up on my back, eyes squinted shut, hoping it wasn’t a hungry animal sitting on me. Until, I head a familiar voice.

“What are ya doing,” asked Darian.

My eyes snapped open and there he was looking down on me with a familiar grin.

“W-w-well I could ask you the same thing!”

“I’m running away.”

My heart stopped. Nobody leaves, ever. Nobody leaves because there’s nowhere to go and… My eyes slid to his right wrist. For all my life, sixteen and half years, there has been a blue bracelet with gold flecks on his right wrist.

“Yep,” he said. “They can’t stop me know.”

Haiku PLUS story about the Ocean, man-made structures, & S’mores

AnthropogenicA city awaits

the force of a rising tide.  

Our design won’t last.

I took this picture while visiting my mom on the Oregon Coast. My younger brother and I had walked away from the fire to find roasting sticks for s’mores when he shoved me and took off running. I was laughing and chasing him down when all of a sudden he jerked to a  stop and said, Look at this!” It was dark, but the light from the moon showed the outline of a massive city made out of stones. It was amazing! There was a wall between the taller stacked buildings and the shabbier ones located on the outskirts. My Photo doesn’t do the city justice, but you can get the idea. It took me four hours to build seven rock towers and maybe that’s because I was matching colors, but I know this took a lot of time and effort. My second thought was this is going to be gone when the tide comes in.

The Haiku is based around the idea of oceans rising and consuming land, therefor also wiping out man-made structures. The bigger idea is based on our design not lasting. Why would you spend so much time working on something that isn’t going to last even till tomorrow? The person who spent the time to build this could have been doing it for many reasons, boredom, stress relief, or to bring joy and excitement to others. Which spurs the idea of selflessness. So many thoughts because of someone’s simple act is a great thing.

Do you have anything to add or share? Feel free to do so in the comment area 🙂