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 Wisewebwoman and can be found here.
1. paddock
2. bridge
3. cane
4. moss
and/or:
1. lilac
2. espresso
3. fountain pen
4. peroxide
Here is my story:
We’d taken possession of the old house yesterday. Today, while Ben and I were wandering about downstairs discussing paint colours, the kids were running around upstairs, choosing their rooms and generally rummaging around in boxes of stuff that had been left in the attic.
Hannah came rushing downstairs looking for us. “Mum, Dad, look at this treasure box I found in the lilac end of the attic! That lilac really needs to be painted over, it’s awful, but look at this.”
The top of the ‘treasure’ box had a scene of a paddock with a bridge going over a small stream with many tall trees beyond. “This was inside an old cane basket, this lid reminds me of my favourite book when I was little, The Bridge to Terabithia,” said Hannah, carefully opening the box.
Inside was an old photo of two young women, arms around each other as they came out of a movie theatre. There were no names on the back, just initials, W and F and a date. November 12th 1930.
We set those aside and took out a few more things, a fountain pen, “I’ve never seen one of these,” said Hannah, holding it up to see it better. Next came a birthday card, a tiny velvet box with a pair of pearl earrings, and a tangle of satin ribbons. At the very bottom lay a high school diploma.
“I wonder if the W is for Wendy,” said Ben. “The old woman who lived here was a Wendy, the agent mentioned her one time and it’s on the sales deed too. It could be the same Wendy.” “I wonder who the F is, they can’t be sisters, they look too different,” said Hannah.
Jason came thundering down the stairs declaring we should clear out the attic completely because he’d like to have that as his bedroom. “It’s huge Mum, I could have one end as a bedroom and the other end as a study area, maybe with a small TV there.” Ben frowned at him, “We’ll discuss a TV if you manage to keep your grades up and only then.”
Hannah said, “That leaves a spare bedroom if Jason takes the attic and I could have friends stay over, or make it into my own library study area.”
“Looks like they’ve got themselves sorted, Suze,” said Ben, “so come back into the kitchen with me, I think I’ve found where we can fit a coffee machine, we can have espressos at home instead of going out. Capuccinos too. And look out there through the French doors, that little circular patio would make a great breakfast area. We’ll need to scrub the moss off the flagstones though.”
Oh the joys and dreams of moving into a new house. I love how you used the words, and how everybodys personaity shines through in this sort story.
ReplyDeleteUglemor; I remember moving into new (to us) houses, we moved so often, first with my dad always looking for a cheaper place, then with my husband in the Army and relocating every 18 months. The most exciting part for us I think was opening the moving boxes and finding all our things.
DeleteWe moved a lot when I was younger but sadly never found such treasures left by the former owners. Would have been fun to imagine their lives but I can remember staking claim to rooms.
ReplyDeleteArkansas Patti; we moved a lot too and never found any treasures. We did find stacks of old newspapers and lots of dust. when I moved into my current home, which had been declared "thoroughly cleaned", I found a tray in the oven with the remains of an overcooked meal on it.
DeleteOh. My. ........
DeleteThis is a lovely take on the prompts - and sounds like a wonderful family too. That box of treasures would have me wondering for years...
ReplyDeleteElephant's Child; now I'm imagining them searching for the history of the house and its owners to find out more.
DeleteOh, what a happy day and a happy story! Maybe they can find relatives of the previous owner and give them the box.
ReplyDeletemessymimi; I do like happy stories, although some sadness must also find its way in sometimes. I think the previous owner might have been the last of her family, since no one claimed anything left behind.
DeleteGee my mom would of been about six in 1930
ReplyDeleteCoffee is on
peppylady (Dora); my mum would have been four.
DeleteHappy story! My mom would have been 2 way back then.
ReplyDeleteWonderful use of words!
Susan Kane; my parents were four and five in 1930, so the Wendy in the story was probably born in 1914 or thereabouts as I'm imagining her as 16 in the photo with her friend F.
DeleteYou've really brought out the excitement of moving into a new house! I want an attic all my own. But without needing to use steps to reach it.
ReplyDeleteVal; I'd love an attic, but as a third story so with proper stairs, not one of those pull-down ladders. I'm wondering now if this huge attic might have been a children's nursery in days of yore, far from the ears of grownups having their socialising morning teas etc. Beds at one end, nursery maid quarters at the other end and so on like that.
DeleteLovely story and a nice treasure box!
ReplyDeleteMargaret-whiteangel; thank you, I'm glad you liked it.
DeleteOh how well written this is! I was there in the excitement of the new house and the declarations of space taken. Well done!
ReplyDeleteXO
WWW
Wisewebwoman; thank you:)
DeleteGood job, River. :)
ReplyDeleteLee ; Thank you too :)
DeleteSounds lovely....when can I move? Can I have the attic? I hope there are pull up stairs to keep out invaders lol. Such a good job with the words. You know this would make a good continuing story...maybe a ghost story.
ReplyDeleteonly slightly confused; sorry, the attic is mine, and there are no pull-up stairs. It's actually an entire open third story. I've thought about a ghost or something similar...
Deletethis was a lovely story, leaving me to wonder where the woman whose initial was F, where she went.
ReplyDeleteMy take: Jeannie lounged by the lilac bush under the shade of wisteria. Her writing was okay, but espresso might give her enough of a jolt to squeeze a few words out. Then she realized she had instead squeezed her old fountain pen, sending a flood of black ink over her dress. No peroxide or miracle would get that out. It was time for the tequila, she thought as she stripped down naked and threw her dress in the trash. Tequila and rum, maybe? Why the heck not.
Susan Kane; it's always a mistake to squeeze a fountain pen, although I'm not sure they can be. I've known a few that leaked, making stains on white pockets of school shirts.
Deletewisewebwoman is providing the words this month, you can read more stories at her website, she's in my side bar as "the other side of sixty"
Great job with those words. Can I ask how you do your writing of vignettes like this one - do you just start to write or do you have a pretty good idea of the general direction you'll go before you put any words down? I'm always curious about how people write fiction. I find it so hard.
ReplyDeletejenny_o; thank you. occasionally I have an idea before I start, but mostly I just start. Often enough the words will suggest the first sentence and I'll build around that.
DeleteThanks, River. Maybe I should give that a try.
DeleteYou could so easily take this story and turn it into a bigger story. I love it. I want to know if those earrings hold any magic in them and is that attic haunted... :)
ReplyDeleteMagical Mystical Mimi; I don't think there's any magic in the earrings, but there might be some in the house itself.
Delete