On Wednesdays, assorted people have been taking monthly turns at putting up a selection of words which is called “Words for Wednesday”.
We have taken over this meme from Delores, who had been having computer problems.
This month the meme continues here, at Hannah’s blog.
Essentially the aim is to encourage us to write.
Each week we are given a choice of prompts: which can be words, phrases, music or images. What we do with those prompts is up to us: a short story, prose, a song, a poem, or treating them with ignore...
Some of us put our creation in comments on the post, and others post on their own blog. We would really like it if as many people as possible joined in with this fun meme.
If you are posting on your own blog - let us know so that we can come along and read your masterpiece.
I’m hopeless at poetry so I always do a story.
It’s a fun challenge…why not join in?
This week's words are:
1. sea green
and we have an image which you will see in my story:
I stood at the very edge of the water, the froth of tiny waves tickling my toes, my heels feeling the sharp edges of the thousands of broken shells that littered the sandy shore.
I'd stood in this exact spot last week and found the most amazing piece of white coral washed up between my bare feet. It looked like dozens of tiny wagon wheel pasta shapes glued together and fossilised. I was hoping to find another one today; my plan was to glue them to heavy chunks of L-shaped mahogany and use them as bookends on the sea foam coloured shelf I had installed against the sea green walls of my new living room.
I watched as rain clouds blew in from the south, darkening the far distant waves and putting a silvery sheen on the middle distance. I raised my camera and snapped several shots in all directions before the rain began. As the first drops fell, I put away the camera - it wasn't waterproof -and turned to go back to the carpark.
I'd found no coral today, but that was okay. I'd use the one piece as a coffee table ornament, glued to a flat polished piece of mahogany instead of the L-shape of bookends. I had a slice of the wood cut from a branch, about six inches diameter and polished with the bark still in place. It would look perfect on the coffee table, which I'd painted the same sea foam colour as the shelf.
Walking towards my car, I noticed a discarded milk carton, with a picture of an abducted child on one side. Amy Hutchens, cheeky grin, soft brown curls, taken from her yard a year ago at age two, when her mother walked inside to answer the phone.