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 supplied by Delores and can be found here.
This week's words are:
Here is my story:
part three of the Remy tale: a development ***
Standing by a rosemary bush with one of those fancy blended coffees in his hand, Officer Steve Brendan idly watched the roller-skating troupe practising a waltz. Wearing old-time ballroom dancing outfits, the spectacle was rather splendid, apart from one jarring note.
A large, shambling man, dressed in tatty cast-offs and holding a plaid umbrella, made his way right through the dancers, coming towards Steve. Beginning to rummage through a garbage bin, he muttered just loud enough for Steve to hear.
"G'Day Steve," he said. "How's things?"
"Not bad Pete, " said Steve, holding up his cup to hide his mouth. "What are you doing here? Last I heard you were undercover in the East End alleys"
"Still am," replied Pete. "Got a word about that jewellery heist, the one where some bugger said Remy was hiding them. Yesterday I put the word around I was interested, said I might know a good fence, then some small guy I never saw before speaks up and says it's a set-up. The jewels are paste, not real."
Steve had to gain control of himself at that last statement, he'd nearly turned toward Pete. Wouldn't do for anyone watching to find out Pete wasn't the bum they thought he was.
Steve took a large mouthful of his coffee and pretended to choke so as to be nearer the bin and Pete. Under the cover of a handkerchief wiping off his chin Steve asked, "What do you mean fake? "
"I heard it's a set-up, look into the husband," said Pete without hardly moving his lips at all. He wandered away and Steve returned his attention to the dancers.
"Could be an insurance scam," he thought, then suddenly, "Uh-oh, if Bernie's back in town, things could get extremely hot pretty quick. Things could sizzle"
Bernie had recently been released from prison after eight years for faking insurance claims and embezzling from his company. If he was up to his old tricks so soon, he'd be back in prison until they carried him out to his grave.
Officer Steve Brendan tossed his now empty cup into the bin and slowly walked away, still glancing at the dancers now and again as his mind churned with possible action plans.
***I'm not entirely happy with this, I had the story written and by accidentally clicking a wrong button I lost the whole thing and have had to rewrite from memory; at the same time, the phone rang, it was the vet telling me Angel was ready to come home.
I have most of the story the way I remembered it but the last four paragraphs aren't the same. I just can't remember exactly what I had there. From now on I'll write everything on paper first.