Friday, February 10, 2017
Wednesday's Words on a Friday
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles.
The aim of the words is to encourage us to write, a story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along and read it.
This month the words are once again supplied by Delores and can be found here.
This week's words are:
Here is my story:
Carrie accidentally knocked over the bottle of butterscotch schnapps and after righting it, sat for a moment dreamily watching the spilled liquid spread across the table surface like a small lake. She dipped her fingers and licked the sweetness a few times before getting a damp cloth to clean off the mess.
Reminding herself to check her glucose meter later, Carrie poured a good amount of the schnapps over the icecream and sliced strawberries in her bowl. Dessert had become a rare treat since her doctor had warned her of the impending diabetes if she didn't cut out her sugar intake. That had been several months ago and she was sure one bowl of icecream wasn't going to do any harm.
The impromptu dinner party had been fun, with Cory and Donald both getting quite tipsy from the beers they swigged down while stuffing their faces with fish and chips, ignoring the salad completely. For a while there had been a distinct lack of intelligence around the dining table as they reverted to teenage boys, outdoing each other with tall tales and crude jokes.
Both men were now in the den, probably sleeping it off while the television blared. The ride home had been a long one for them, coming from opposite ends of the earth.
Spooning up her icecream, Carrie thought of the joke Donald had made about Cory's archaeological dig. Cory had expressed hope of finding human bones this time and Donald had chuckled that his brother was mining for cadavers, when most sensible people mined for gold or precious gems. Mimicking Uncle Charlie, Cory had loftily announced that "cadavers are every bit as important" and besides, sometimes the mummies were buried with their jewellery if they were important enough to have owned any.
Carrie washed up her icecream bowl, swept a few crumbs from the carpet and glanced at the clock; seeing it was past midnight she decided going to bed was a better option than starting the work Corey had asked her to help him with. Tomorrow, well, later today, would be soon enough to spend hours collating the notes he'd brought home with him. A decent sized pile it was too, several filled notebooks and a large sheaf of loose papers with drawings of the sites. He'd be going back to the site after Aunt Jenny's funeral and once the dig was finished Cory hoped to write a book about the experience.
Donald worked for a publishing house and had promised to help with the proof reading and editing. Carrie crept into the den, turned off the television and threw a light blanket over each brother before going to bed herself.