Words for Wednesday

It’s Wednesday!  
And December.  

Which means it is my turn to provide you all with words to challenge your minds.
Write a story, write a poem; the choice is yours. 

Post it here in the comments, or on your own blog, it doesn’t have to be today, but 
please leave a note in the comments here so we can all find you and read your creation.

Here are the words:





A town of old people, old buildings, and old ways.


  1. Carolyn was born and raised in Pleasantville, had attended school, gotten a job in the local supermarket and even had a few serious boyfriends. It was a lovely town with picturesque cottages surrounded by flower gardens. The villagers were pleasant smiling folk always willing to help. Problem was, Carolyn had spent a week with an old school chum who had moved out of Pleasantville to a neighbouring city. Joyce introduced her to internet dating, karaoke, drinking and staying out all night. She really wanted Carolyn to share her apartment and live the big city life with her. Much as she wanted to join her friend Carolyn knew big city life was not for her...no....this town with its old people, old buildings and old ways was the right fit for her. She wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. Now,how to tell Joyce?

    1. Stick to your guns Carolyn. You know what works for you...

  2. I have to think about these words.

  3. A town of old people, old buildings, and old ways sounds pretty damn good to me today. Politeness, consideration, and good craftsmanship has a LOT to recommend it. And it would be quiet too.

    My jaundiced self is going back to bed now. I had a long, long night (negotiating with the police in another state for LL). I am tired, headachy and will think about the other words when I wake up again.

    1. I hope you're feeling better soon, EC...take care.

  4. This comment has been removed by the author.

    1. For many decades it had been A TOWN OF OLD PEOPLE, OLD BUILDINGS AND OLD WAYS, that is, until a group of eager, young entrepreneurs saw the small town through excited, youthful eyes. Immediately they’d recognised the area’s potential.

      It was like the Sleeping Beauty waiting to be woken by her prince.

      The town may have been SHABBY, but the natural, unspoiled charm surrounding the sleepy little village begged to be appreciated by a wider audience.

      The exuberant new blood JOYOUSLY INTRODUCED themselves to the locals at the open-to-all-comers’ town meeting they’d organised within days of their arrival to the town.

      The townsfolk reluctantly BUNDLED together in a ramshackle empty shop. For the time being it would IMPROVISE as a meagre solution to the town’s lack of a community hall. A new town hall was part of the future plans.

      The CONSTERNATION on the faces of the people as they talked amongst themselves in hushed voices was visible. Even Blind Freddy could’ve seen their concern.

      The locals had become complacent through the years. “Change” was a word they neither wanted nor understood. Unconsciously they’d begun taking the area for granted many years before.

      To put it succinctly, as a group their minds were closed. They didn’t know how to compromise; they had no idea how to remove their blinkers and open their minds.

      As one, they were suspicion of the newcomers and their FANCIFUL ideas. The way they’d entered the town like a WHIRLPOOL could only bode DISASTER was the mutual opinion of the old folk.

      Bob and Mavis’ timber pub on the corner – it had been owned by Bob’s parents and their parents before them – was the town’s one pub. It offered the only accommodation in the area.

      The group of visitors booked out the hotel’s six bedrooms. Gender-APPROPRIATE bathrooms were situated at either end of the dingy hallway that ran along the centre of the upstairs’ area.

      It wasn’t the intention of the visitors to RUFFLE anyone’s feathers.

      Politely, as a group they turned up on time for breakfast, lunch and dinner, all of which were served in the small dining room adjoining the pub’s kitchen. Most of the time they ate at the bar like the rest of the patrons.

      There was no café, take-away shop or DELICATESSEN in the town. They had no other choice but to dine at the pub.

      However, in many ways having no choice but to dine at the pub was to their advantage. Eventually, one by one the old locals dropped their guard; trust and friendships were formed.

    2. Open eyes, hearts and minds are a very big help...

    3. Typo Alert!!! I meant to type "suspicious" not "suspicion" as shown in my text.

  5. ... Hi River... I like the stories this week... Change can be hard sometimes..
    I do like to clean out the fridge and freezer to start the New Year .... and toss some things from my wardrobe.... and decide what of the Christmas decorations will not make it for next Christmas...
    A week of putting things back 'not quite' the way it was.. hehehe....
    Hope you and Angel have a great 2016...

    Ps... Gordon Ramsay has to be extra hard on some of these owners.. a bit sad...
    Hugs ... Barb xxx

  6. Delores; I like that story very much. I like the sound of Pleasantville too. I'm sure Carolyn will find a way to tell Joyce; perhaps by inviting her to stay for a weekend?

    fishducky; I couldn't sleep :(

    Merle; I look forward to reading what you come up with.

    Elephant's Child; I like how you wove the sentence into your truth. Get some sleep now.

    Lee; this is very good, has a ring of Brigadoon to it. I like the way the newcomers fitted themselves in, instead of just sweeping all before them in upheaval. I'd say that little town has a bright new future.

    Elephant's Child; open hearts and minds are more important I think. Too many people go around with open, yet unseeing, eyes.

    Barbara; I'd like to toss things from my wardrobe, but I'll need them next winter, so I don't. It makes a lot of difference when things are put back just that little bit differently.

  7. A town of old people, old buildings, and old ways. Erica stood behind the counter of the delicatessen, glaring at the customers, bundled up against the cold weather, joyously discussing plans for the upcoming potluck dinner, intended to raise enough money to fix the shabby church roof before disaster struck.
    Erica had no intention of going to the potluck. Her mother insisted it wouldn’t be appropriate for her to miss the event, but Erica didn’t care if her absence ruffled a few feathers. Her mother’s consternation was a small price to pay for a night of solitude away from the church busybodies, always accusing her of having a head full of fanciful ideas, just because she planned to one day get away from this town, enjoying whirlpool of adventures somewhere shiny and new.
    Forcing a smile, she politely greeted her newest customer, Jenny from down the road, who last year had introduced Erica to her grandson, a smarmy young man, who expected Erica to be interested in him, because he drove a fancy car and had a nice suit. When it turned out he was both boring and handsy, Erica had been forced to improvise and fake a stomach ache to get away. As Jenny chatted on about her grandson, and how much he was looking forward to seeing Erica, she silently reaffirmed her intention to skip the dinner, handing over Jenny’s order with a non-committal “hmmmm”, daydreaming again of the day she’d leave this all behind.

  8. no-one; I love this! Hope Erica gets away soon, seems she was born for more excitement than the old town ways have to offer. Thanks for playing.


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