Words for Wednesday
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 prompts are supplied by ME and can be found right here
This week's words/prompts are:
1.blankets
2. striding
3. hocus-pocus
4. sluggishly
5. comparative
6. notebook
and/or:
they're ruining everything!
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On bad days Rachel's sluggishly acting brain and failing body made her mutter peevishly 'they're ruining everything!' Those were the days when her blankets became blankie forts and she hid from the world (and herself).
ReplyDeleteHer forts were well stocked. Hot chocolate. Biscuits. Her notebook and a selection of coloured crayons. In there she worked magic. Comparatively speaking, nothing had changed. Her brain was still slow, her body still hurt, but with the hocus-pocus of a change of focus (and that rhyme always made her giggle) she could emerge striding (a small exaggeration there) into the hopeful light of a new day.
Never ever dismiss the power of chocolate, comfort and colour.
Ha! Hocus-pocus and a change of focus! Love it and some magical company that helps kids with ADHD would *kill* for that slogan :)
DeleteThere is no denying the magical properties of chocolate!
DeleteElephant's Child; I love it! hocus-pocus, change of focus and hot chocolate. Sounds a bit like my hideaway days :)
DeleteA great saying, a beautiful story.
DeleteExcellent Sue. Like everyone else, I love your phrase.
DeleteColours and chocolate are true hocus-pocus. Now I need a change of focus.
DeleteWell done! I felt her pain, but know that chocolate will rescue her@
DeleteA new focus and some chocolate can help us get through many ills.
DeleteThe kids snuggled under the Blankets, dreams of running away now a reality. It was a decent, summers night, and their new tent—their first purchase and a new home at that, he’d said. She smiled and squished away the last millimeters between their bodies.
ReplyDeleteHe loved the feeling of her wanting to get even closer and he hugged her tighter, too. He’d never been in love before, well, yeah of course he’d been in lust, but what seventeen-year-old guy hadn’t.
Staring down at her brown hair that streamed over her shoulders like a dusk-filled waterfall, he knew this was love, and realized she’d said something.
“Sorry, babe?”
“I’ll go anywhere with you and do anything for us, you know that, right? All I want is to keep moving and get out of damn Billings, Montana. Promise?
“Hon, we’re not gonna stroll, we’re Striding outta this place tomorrow. I’ll get you to New York City for your eighteenth, I promise and no Hocus-pocus, either.”
She giggled against his chest and it was the greatest feeling ever. He would die for this girl, of that he knew.
“You talk like a Harry Potter book sometimes, babe. It’s so cute, I swear.”
In response, he gently poked her ribs. She squealed, pulled away and turned all in one swift moment. She glared with smiling eyes and went on the attack, which led to silly play fighting that morphed into pure love making.
They began Sluggishly, neither knowing what waited past second base, but wanting—and finally—having the time to discover these secrets together.
He woke first and spent thirty minutes watching her sleep, knowing nothing in his life was as Comparative. She finally stirred, and when her eyes opened and focused on his face, the natural smile that appeared lit him up.
“Good morning, gorgeous. How ya doing?”
“Oh stop, I look hideous, I’m sure, but it’s absolutely delicious waking up next to you.”
She emphasized this with a huge, long, contented stretch-filled sigh and when finished, stared as he was the one smiling now.
“What?”
“If I’d had a Notebook, I’d of written you a poem or something cute to celebrate that monster of a stretch.”
She slapped at his shoulder, but he saw she at least liked the idea.
“We’re travelling light, remember, but I tell you what. We get to NYC, you write me a poem and it’ll be the first thing I hang when we find a place to call our own. Deal?”
He nodded, bending down to give her a kiss. Yeah, this was real love.
Seventeen miles away, the mother stared again at the note her oldest son left on the counter. She turned to her husband, who annoyingly had the smallest of smiles on his face.
“What are you laughing about?”
“Darling, it’s OK. Miles will reach out soon and I’m sure Dawn will call her parents, too. They’re nearly eighteen, and both have cellphones surgically grafted to their palms.”
Dad turned, ostensibly to switch on the Nespresso, but also to hide his growing smile. You go, son. You’re really doing it, he thought, grabbing his “Best Dad” mug.
“I’ll call Miles later. Everything will be OK. And, look, that’s how you and I began our journey, so it’s cool they’re keeping up the tradition.”
“We ran away for four days, and it was the same city. They’re ruining everything!”
Awww. You have melted my heart Mark. If only my first sexual experience had been this love filled...
DeleteMark Koopmans; another fabulous use of my words :) I also wish I'd been truly in love, I'm sure that first time would have been better. I hope they make it to NYC and find their place to call home.
DeleteThe "annoying smile" made me grin - Dad knows best, he remembers, how cute!
DeleteKeeping up the family tradition indeed. Thank you for the smile.
DeleteYou all sound so sympathetic. I'm not sure I would have been that understanding. Especially kids of that age. Still a nice story Mark.
DeleteThanks Jo, and everyone else. I guess I was also thinking how I wish my first love would have been so cute, and if it had been, it would have been the late 80's and helicopter parents hadn't been discovered yet :)
DeleteSuch a sweet story!
DeleteAh, young love. Let's hope reality doesn't intrude too soon.
Delete
ReplyDeleteStriding down the corridor in grim determination, in anger Martyn tossed the tattered notebook onto the floor.
“I’m sick to death of all this nonsense. I’m far too busy, and exhausted for any of this ridiculous hocus-pocus! They’re ruining everything!” He roared. “There are so many flaws...a million holes...in this comparative analysis of the anatomy of crime! Why the hell do I bother wasting my time? No one is taking me seriously!”
Jenny tossed off the blankets, as she sluggishly crawled out of bed.
“Oh! For Heaven’s sake, Martyn! Give it break, will you! Come to bed before you do have that breakdown you keep threatening you’re going to have! Then you’ll really have something to rage about!”
I do hope he listens to Jenny - and fear he will not.
DeleteOhhh well told and Martyn is an old arsehole for sure that needs to retire... now! (Jenny, on the other hand seems very sweet... especially as I'm literally watching Forrest Gump on Netflix :)
DeleteLee; a third great story, you guys are on a roll!
DeleteI hope Martyn at least tries to calm down, he does seem to be heading into breakdown territory.
Now who is wrong here? Martyn for being angry with those nincompoops or Jenny for not siding with him?
DeleteGreat story ... we need more.
Poor Jenny and lucky Martyn!
DeleteA good night's sleep just might give him strength for the fight, and make it easier to stay calm doing it.
DeleteStacy's Uncle Max once again was not dissuaded from his so called hocus-pocus show at her birthday party. All the party goers gathered around and tried to pay attention to his slight of hand. Her brother had a notebook and was taking his customary notes, hoping to follow in the footsteps of Uncle Max.
ReplyDeleteThe summer was dragging on so sluggishly just like high school had been thus far. She had one more year to go and she'd be free to pursue her true interest as a race car driver. Ever since she'd saved the life of a famous driver when he crashed in the sidelines she'd been hailed as an upcoming ingenue of the fast paced sport. She'd won many amateur awards in junior races and hoped to continue winning.
At the instant of the crash she'd rushed to the track before anyone could stop her with the blankets her family had brought to keep warm on opening day of race season. When she reached the race car in flames she didn't hesitate and threw the heavy blankets over the vehicle. She was able to partially extinguish the flames at the drivers door barely in time for the driver to exit in the nick of time. He grabbed her and they both ran for the sidelines just before the car exploded from the ignited fuel.
Ever since the day of that fateful race Stacey was striding in leaps and bounds towards her lifetime goal. The media and sponsors were always making comparative analysis and reporting on the slim odds of her, a mere "girl", of ever making the grade, but she was determined to succeed. With each success she achieved her parents grew more and more negative of her plans. They were so critical she could barely stand it and sometimes it was unbelievably depressing not to have the support of her family.
Stacey had saved and saved to hopefully have a race car of her own built to her specifications. She was pleased that many of her birthday presents were monetary so she could set aside that money for her own car. When she received a sizable amount of money in an anonymous birthday card, her parent said this was not appropriate and threatened to keep the money from her and set aside for a college fund.
This was the last straw, she lashed out at her parents and couldn't stop herself form blurting out everything she had been feeling for months. She said she wasn't going to college and they couldn't take her money from her. Her parents said they were the parents and she'd do as they said. All she could do was appeal to the crowd of family and friends gawking at the spectacle of this huge argument. She turned to the crowd in a last ditch effort and blurted out, "Can't you see, they're ruining everything!"
Linda, this is well written and so very sad. I hope (so much) she triumphs.
DeleteLinda; I hope Stacey reaches her goal, everyone deserves to at least be able to try. on the other hand, car racing is one of the few things that scare me, the risks and the speed, the horrific crashes that can happen.
DeleteA fourth great story :)
Great story. I too do not like racing cars, but she should be allowed to try.
DeleteParents are very good at spoiling everything. Reminds me unfortunately. Hope she manages to pursue her racing career.
DeleteI have been both the teen with her own plan, and the parent who sees a different picture. This falls between a rock and a hard space.
DeleteIt's not easy from either side.
Delete"They're ruining everything!"
ReplyDelete" Who is?
"Maddie and Mary Addison, that's who!"
"And exactly how are they ruining everything. They are your best friends"
" Were my best friends! Maddie took my notebook off my desk. She gave it to Mary Addison. When I came back from the rest room I caught her striding, no, sashaying , all around the room showing it to everyone."
" And . . .? "
"Well, I asked her what she was doing. First she looked right at Maddie, then at some of the others like everyone was part of it. Then she looked at me like she was trying to come up with some explanation. Like I would fall for her hocus pocus lame excuse. Finally she came over to me, sluggishly, like I was asking her to walk the plank instead of explaining"
"I am still not getting how that ruins everything."
"OK as a comparative. Remember last year before the family reunion when you told Aunt Lil you were making your famous peach cobbler, then she had her friend, that chef, make an almond peach cobbler with pastry peaches to decorate it? Remember how upset you were that she one upped you with something you are really great at? Well this is the same thing."
"I almost understand. What was in the notebook?"
"My sketch of my prom dress, including all my accessories.I was not voted Best Dressed for nothing. Now everyone knows what I planned on wearing and they will probably copy me. I am back to square one and I might as well wear horse blankets"
This is brilliant. I can see and hear the scene - and feel her pain.
Deleteshe's a fighter and she will prevail
DeleteAnne In the kitchen; you caught the teenage angst so well, I didn't even notice my words in there. I'm sure she will calm down and come up with another brilliant dress idea, even if it is based on horse blankets. I bet she never lets her notebook out of her sight again.
DeleteThe horse blankets sure made me grin, what an idea! Now imagine she could really work with that!
DeleteNasty girls those two, I hope she'll still outshine them.
DeleteGreat job.
DeleteThat was my thought, she would design another dress and all the accessories. I hope she does. I got caught up in the story. Gotta go for now. Will be back to read the next entry.
DeleteA friend's betrayal is such a deep sting, i remember.
DeleteThe air was chill, and damp, the fog rolled in obliterating anything but close visibility. I hugged the BLANKET tighter around my aching body. Others did the same. Julie snuggled close and we wrapped both our BLANKETS around us, a symbol of solidarity and companionship, to say nothing of the added warmth.
ReplyDelete“THEY'RE RUINING EVERYTHING” she sighed, an unfamiliar tone of defeat in her voice. A couple of others were STRIDING towards us, grit and determination on their faces. Others remained chained to the trees. “We can't let the bastards win,” Matt shouted. “It's wrong, it's all wrong.” He consulted his NOTEBOOK to see who was due up to relieve those who had now been chained for three hours. He looked disdainfully at an “information sheet” put out by the lumber company and endorsed by the slimy politicians who supported them. It was nothing but HOCUS POCUS, designed to make the timber removal seem to be the sanest decision in the world, and anyone who opposed such desecration backward, ignorant and subversive. I wonder how many of those politicians had shares in the logging companies involved in this madness, how many loggers realized that they were pawns in a game, and that their employment would be short-lived.
I shucked off my blanket and got to my feet SLUGGISHLY. Matt had signalled by now that it was my rotation back on the “chain gang.”
I was tired, suffering joint pain; I was dispirited but not beaten. In life one has to assess COMPARATIVE values, and the existence of these old growth forests and the web of life they support, was more important than my personal discomfort. And some of the people, men and women, were forty or more years older than me. They were fighting for their grandchildren, and in so many ways so was I. Let them never be able to say that Grandpa didn't try, that Grandpa wasn't there when it counted.
Funny thing how I didn't feel so tired any more. If they come and arrest me, I thought, let them do it. I will wear that as a mark of honour in the future. Now let's go and save some trees.
Go for it, tree warriors. Fine tale.
DeleteA big hooray for the tree warriors. I will happily sign up for a shift on the chain gang. And will provide coffee/tea for those who are there.
DeleteWow! So many such clever stories! Standing by old growth trees is humbling.
DeleteWonderful story David. Wish I could have joined in even in my 82nd year. I support saving trees, however old.
DeleteDavid M Gascoigne; Yes please, save some trees! I'm too wimpy to sit around chained to a tree, but I salute those who do. The earth needs its trees as much as it needs water, and the trees give us our oxygen. Here where I live, dozens, if not hundreds, of old growth trees are being felled and removed to make space for widening a highway. Love your story.
DeleteExcellent use of the words and excellent idea. A little civil disobedience is good for the world every now and then!
DeleteHow i hope they succeed!
DeleteThe alarm started buzzing and I struggled sluggishly out of my blankets to begin my day. I was joining my friends whom I had met at a course held by the Alzheimer Society. Although I had cancelled my arrangements for help collecting my groceries today, I was a bit annoyed to discover they had gone ahead anyway. So, needless to say I had to rush around putting away groceries in their homes before I left for my meeting. All this striding around in a hurry made me think “they’re ruining everything!” even though they are designed to help. I made a few minutes to phone them but got all that hocus pocus about “you’re call is important to us” and “do leave a message we will get back to you as soon as possible” etc. etc. I then walked – with my walker – the 6 miles to the car (well it seems like that to me as we have a parking spot the other side of the parking garage). I headed to the store where our meeting place was, in a Starbucks and where their comparative prices are enough to break the bank. I often make entries in my notebook of any happenings which I might want to use in my blog at the end of each day, but I really didn’t have time as my friends arrived and we sat and chatted for our allotted hour. Only three of us today, but all of us have spouses suffering from one kind of dementia or another. Life is hard. Having just written this little story, I received a call apologizing for the mix up with the shopping and assuring me I would not be charged. Makes life a little less hard.
ReplyDeleteHow I wish your take on the prompts wasn't firmly grounded in truth. Glad that you had a tiny win and wer not charged on the grocery front. And yes that 'your call is important to us' malarkey gives me a severe case of the irrits.
DeleteJo; Is this great use of my words a taste of things to come? I'll have to be wary of such things as I get older, glad you weren't charged for the groceries. I hate that "your call is important to us" also, in my opinion if my call is so important, why am I waiting in line for an answer?
DeleteGood job, Jo. Too bad it reflects reality. But don't fret, "Your story is important to us!"
DeleteI live this life also, but with my mom and not a spouse. It is a hard journey and for Mom it is accelerating rapidly
DeleteThe frustrations can be so enormous.
DeleteHere I am yawning
ReplyDeleteCindi Summerlin; I'll be over in just a minute :)
DeleteThis is it, James decided. Striding silently James grabbed his notebook to begin his journey. Comparative to the last event when he moved sluggishly, James was lightening. With just a few moves and hocus-pocus, and he would sneak into his blanket tent. Reaching his destination, James curled into the tent and pulled out his notebook. Smiling, James traced over the lines and familiar pictures. “Thomas the Tank Engine and His Friends” He whispered. “Thomas the Tank Engine had many friends…”
ReplyDeleteHis eyes grew heavy as he heard his parents call out. As he dozed off, he muttered “They’re ruining everything…”
Smiling. Lucky Thomas the Tank Engine - who still has many friends world wide.
DeleteI think I can, I think I can. Glad James is a devotee. Reading all these stories, I have stirrings for another one. Maybe I will write it now or maybe I will try and save it for next week.
DeleteSusan Kane; thank you for joining in :)
DeleteI do hope James gets to enjoy more time with Thomas and his friends in the blanket tent.
Cute, cute, cute! Who among us has never experienced to magic of a blanket tent?
DeleteAh, to be able to slip into another world. Parents, please leave us alone there for a bit of a while!
DeleteWords on Wednesday, PISHILL .A village in England.
ReplyDeleteWords on Wednesday are supplied by River today and for the whole month. They are.
Blankets, Striding, Hocus pocus, Sluggishly, Comparative, Notebook.
My story relates to the hamlet of PISHILL within the Chiltern Hills of Oxfordshire in England.
Yes, its name is spelt correctly, although *Comparative in ribaldry as our Australian Ship Creek and is a small hamlet reminiscent of Frogs hollow, a medieval-themed village mentioned in previous posts; its reputation embellished by *Hocus Pocus.
This small hamlet is situated within a steep valley, my aged *Notebook reveals information sourced from my youth and mentions that, it was only suitable for growing Marrowfat peas, thereby the name of the hamlet becoming a derivation of the word peas.
Pishill a short distance from Dorchester on the Thames (Not to be confused with Dorchester in Dorset England), is where I often went fishing for tiddlers and *Striding out on nature walks. Pishill is frequently covered by fog which *Blankets the valley and the *Sluggishly running brook which flows onwards to its exit within the river Thame nearby, another arm of the Mighty Thames.
I have revisited Pishill several times on frequent visits to England, my birthplace, particularly the Crown Inn at Pishill, a favourite watering place.
Thank you for reading my post, your comments will be appreciated. Vest daily Gaggle .com.
Google, PISHILL England. for more info.
I replied about five or six times to posts on this blog yesterday unfortunately they failed to materialise
ReplyDeleteWell I'm damned, there really is a Pishill in the UK and not, as the crow flies, that far from where I used to live. Enjoyed your little history Vest. Fun.
DeleteVest; yesterday is gone and now your story is here. I have no idea what happened. Your memories are a lovely way to use my words.
DeleteWhat a lovely picture your words created!
DeleteIt's always a joy to learn about new places.
Deletehocus-pocus - haven't heard that word for years, and how good to see it.
ReplyDeleteAnd River, your words finally made me pick up Susans story again. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteMy story is in the usual place, and i am sorry i'm late getting back here to read.
ReplyDelete