Sometimes on the way to your dream,

you get lost and find a better one.

Friday, August 4, 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 supplied by me and can be found right here.

This week's words are:

1. suburbia
2. concessions
3. morning
4. process
5. blackness
6. overkill


1. instantly
2. matinee
3. regularly
4. whispering
5. kicked
6. height

Here is my story: Part one

Ross sped through ten miles of sleeping suburbia, slowed a little as he turned onto the freeway access, then zipped along the near empty freeway towards the airport. At this hour traffic was minimal, he saw only two other cars, both headed away from the airport. Workers going home, he supposed. Many of the concessions and souvenir stalls closed at midnight, with the rest shutting down at 2am. The morning crews would arrive at 5am and start the whole process up again, ready for the first planes that came in at 6am. 

Thirty minutes later, the blackness of predawn receded before the fireworks effect of bright lights and neon signs. A little overkill for an airport this small,  but at least tourists and new settlers couldn't miss it. Giving directions was easy. Get onto the freeway, head west until you see the lights. 

He'd be too early, but he could use the time to stock up on chocolate and chips from the vending machines.

The phone call two hours earlier had been completely unexpected, but the voice and the plea had roused him instantly. "He's doing it again Uncle Ross, come and get the kids. Please come." A fierce whisper, easily enough heard over the sounds of violence in the background. Jessy was older now, but the voice was the same, he'd known who it was without asking. It had been years since the last plea for help, Jessy would be fifteen now. He'd heard there was a boyfriend named Ben, he'd taken Jessy to the afternoon matinee twice now at the local picture theatre.

Wayne had been doing so well, seeing his psychologist regularly, taking the prescribed medication daily, he'd seemed to be finally settled, the demons that tormented him banished. A year in a lock-down facility had been a breathing space for Madeline and the kids. It had been Jessy who had phoned him that first time too, hiding inside the pantry with the phone, whispering about her Dad screaming that they were all possessed by devils and he had to "save" them.  The twins, Josh and Jeff, only six years old, had been tied to their beds when he got there that time, Wayne had been getting ready to cut the devils out of them when Ross had kicked in the door. 

Back then, he had lived just a few blocks away, now he was in another state altogether, it would take much longer to get to Woody Valley. He hadn't needed to book his flight, the small Southwest National plane was never filled, not too many people went to Woody Valley even in the height of the tourist season. At this time of year Ross might be the only passenger.


  1. Great job, as always.

    Okay, so I did write something with the words, and I had fun with it, too. It was a nice respite from editing. But its, um, a little long. Matter of fact, I already typed it in here once and it got rejected for having too many characters. (sigh) So I cut-and-pasted it and saved it on my computer. Now I'll try splitting it into TWO comments... THIS one, and then the story.


    1. I always knew we'd have to make certain concessions if we moved to the big city. I knew it partly because niggling doubts kept whispering in my ear, but mostly because my husband regularly yelled his Mr. Smarty Pants opinions about the insanity of leaving our comfortable home in suburbia to live in a noisy, polluted, rat-infested area of overpopulation and crime.

      I guess you could say I won. After serving him liver and Brussels sprouts three nights in a row, his sense of self-preservation kicked in, and he finally agreed there might be some merit in the prospect of no longer having to maintain the lawn to a specific height and in being able to walk to a restaurant, shop, or matinee show whenever we liked.

      The process of moving wasn't nearly as bad as my nay-saying husband predicted. We got rid of a lot of things we should have parted with years ago, packed up our personal belongings, and moved into a delightful fully-furnished loft in a refurbished warehouse filled with brand new state-of-the-art appliances. Our old furniture and outdated appliances, I happily left behind. To placate my still-grumbling husband, we made plans to rent our house. To me, that meant some welcome income, but he thought of it as an escape plan, should we need to flee the big city. I mean, really. I never knew there was so much pessimistic darkness inside of the man I'd shared my life with for so many years. As if we'd ever want to leave the bright lights and bustling action of the big city to run back to our old life of boredom and tranquility.

      Okay, I admit it. He was right, and I was wrong. The first morning in our new loft, I ran into the wall and broke my toe, but it wasn't my fault. Our new state-of-the-art alarm clock scared me half to death when it yelled at me. Seriously... it yelled. Like a person. A not very nice person, I might add. I didn't much appreciate the rude awakening, especially after getting so little sleep the night before. I'm telling you, horns were honking and music was blaring all night long... don't city people ever sleep? Anyhow, so I might have been a tad disoriented when the clock yelled me out of bed, which is why I ran into the wall.

      My husband's accident, on the other hand, was all on him. He laughed at me, and I threw the clock at him.

      I hobbled into the kitchen to make our breakfast, and when I turned on the light, roaches scattered in every direction. Determined not to let a few nasty bugs deter me from enjoying our new city life, I made a mental note to buy some bug spray. No big deal.

      The rat that scurried past, however, was a rather big deal, and I screeched like a banshee and limped after it with a state-of-the-art carving knife in one hand and a coffeemaker I had no idea how to operate in the other. I tell you, it was like a ballet the way I tracked that loathsome creature. He zigged; I zigged. He zagged; I zagged. I finally had him trapped in a corner and brought that coffeemaker down on top of him with all my might. I stood over the carnage with the knife still gripped firmly in my hand, daring the miserable monster to so much as twitch.

      My husband sauntered into the kitchen about then. He regarded me waving the knife above the shattered coffeemaker, and with a smirk, said, "A bit of an overkill, wouldn't you say?"

      As proof of my stellar caring character, I did not throw the knife at him.

      "See? One day in the city, and you're already turning into a serial killer," he said.

      "It was one miserable rat!" I said in my defense.

      "That's where you're wrong," he countered smugly. "There's never just one rat. In a building this old, there are probably dozens of them."

      I blinked at him, unsure if this was one of the concessions I was willing to make or not.

      We moved back to suburbia the next day. I never wanted to deal with renters, anyway.

    2. Call a taxi .....right now.....I'm going back to the suburbs. This is terrific.

    3. Love it. And feel for her. Dreams shouldn't be infested with cockroaches and rats.

    4. I'd been making some changes too, cockroaches and rats are not my style either.

    5. Susan; this is fabulous! I love it. And a very good advertisement for NOT buying a fully furnished flat. The rats and roaches probably live in the couch.
      I'd be heading back to my comfortable old but clean home too. Thank you so much for joining in :)

    6. Thanks... and thanks for having me. It was fun!

  2. OMG River...I hope he gets there in time. Talk about a walk on the dark side.

    1. only slightly confused; he gets there, but I have to work out what happens then.

  3. Oh River: This is so very sad. I hope Jessy also called the police.

    1. Elephant's Child; she's probably a bit too panicked to call the police. Ross may call them himself from the plane if he can.

  4. Replies
    1. fishducky; Susan's story is so great. When are you going to join us with writing something?

  5. Wow River you definitely have my attention, I can't wait for the second part....nice use of the words also.

    1. Jimmy; thank you, part two will be here next week and then of course I have to work on part three...

  6. Got me! Waiting to see how it resolves.

    1. Val; me too! I can't wait to see what my mind comes up with.

  7. I find it difficult to comment on domestic violence...because as a small child I witnessed it all too often.

    As always you worked well with the words supplied, River.

    1. Lee; it isn't the usual on-going domestic violence. There's a brain injury and a mix up in treatments.

  8. River you always leave us wanting more. Also glad to see Susan joined in as well. We are a growing group. Hope I can get in on the WFW again next week.

    1. Granny Annie; I hope you can too, but don't put yourself under unnecessary pressure :)

  9. I really engaged with your well written story. Hugs and Happy Friday! RO

    1. RO; thank you. Come back next Friday for part two.

  10. Well done River

    Well done Susan

    I finally came up with something for words for Wednesday, which I've just posted on that thread.

    Can I just add a message for Only Slightly Confused (Delores)

    If she may be reading this... I have left quite a few comments on a lot of your posts but they are coming up have to be approved? So I do hope you have received them OK - maybe they have gone into your Spam folder for some reason?

    Happy Weekend Wishes to everyone.

    All the best Jan