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. Sadly, Delores has now closed her blog forever due to other problems.

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 Mark Koopmans and can be found here.

This week's words/prompts are: 

1. granulate 
2. trial 
3. serenade 
4. billiards 
5. cuss 
6. avuncular 

and/or: 

1. vindicate 
2. Hotelier 
3. junkie 
4. metronome 
5. questionnaire 
6. exemplify 

Here is my brain came up with: 

Brian stared at the ticking metronome, silently muttering cuss words as he vainly tried to remember the opening bars of the serenade he was supposed to have learned by now. He ran his fingers lightly across the piano keys, hoping for inspiration, but nothing came to mind. How he wished he could be down at the old Billiards Hall, plunking away on the old upright piano, donated by the new Hotelier. Honky Tonk music was much more his style, not this classical stuff his Mum and Grandma were so fond of. Just because he liked to play, they, particularly Grandma, expected him to become a rich-and-famous concert pianist. 

Brian thought again about the Hotelier, new in town, making changes to the Grand Junction Hotel and looking for new staff. He'd introduced himself as Bertrand Montrose, but said he preferred Bertie when not at work. He'd liked Brian's playing and asked if he would be interested in a job once the new Grand Junction opened. There would be a new piano in the casual bar area and with Brian's honky-tonk tunes, maybe there could be line dancing nights and competitions. Brian had taken the offered questionnaire, (name, address, age, experience) stating he would be eager to do the three month trial and could he have an extra questionnaire for his sister Amy, who had recently finished a course in bar service and was looking for work. 

He began one of his favourite tunes, not noticing that his Grandpa had walked in. The tunes didn't sound the same on this baby grand handed down from his Grandma, but the sound was good enough. Brian gradually became aware of the toe tapping and foot shuffling behind him and turned to see his Grandpa Gordon doing a pretty fair impression of one of Fred Astaire's routines. Gordon grinned, saying, "nice light fingers you've got there son, is that the piece your Mum is expecting to hear?" Brian sagged on the seat. "No, Pop, I'm supposed to have learned some serenade I can't even remember the name of." 

"Not a fan of the classical stuff are you?" said Gordon. "No," said Brian, "and I think Mum might come around if only Grandma would let up. A few weeks playing at the new Grand Junction, getting paid, and my choice of style would be vindicated." Your Grandma is a classical junkie, wants to hear nothing else. She's been that way as long as I can remember, something about training for years and never being quite good enough." "That's sad," said Brian, but it shouldn't mean I have to become a concert pianist, when I'd prefer to play this." He tinkled through another tune and Gordon took another soft-shoe shuffle around the room. Without thinking and without realising, Brian segued into the serenade he'd been trying to remember and Grandpa Gordon pretended to waltz around the room. 

Comments

  1. How lovely! The more you write, the better you get. :)

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    1. Susan; thank you. I had a bit of trouble with this one, there are words in the list I don't know how to use. Yet.

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  2. That was sweet of Brian to think of his sister. Sounds like he has got a fun three months ahead.

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    1. Arkansas Patti; thank you. I think the three months will zip by and the two will find themselves with permanent jobs.

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  3. I knew that your fertile mind would come good. And love this piece - though I do hope that he and his sister are paid during their three month trial.

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    1. Elephant's Child; yes, they will get paid, with a raise when the jobs become permanent.
      There were some words I couldn't use, just don't know how to fit them in so the context is correct.

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  4. A nice and light (as opposed to other people's darker) piece of writing with Mark's tricky words. A good read.

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    1. Charlotte; thank you. I've read those other, darker pieces and they are good, but sometimes my mind just won't go that way.

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  5. Replies
    1. David M. Gascoigne; thank you and welcome to drifting.

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  6. A very nice tale, River. Well done! :)

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  7. Feeling a little frustrated today. Time to let Jenny settle that:

    Jenny refilled the saltshakers with chunks of granulated salt, the one with a cutie girl with an umbrella. What the hell, she thought, as she spit in each one. Working a Billiard and Biker Bar at been a true trial. Thinking that she knew every cuss word, Jenny had learned a few more. When the local avuncular old man hobbled in, she sighed. Good old Uncle Joe was known to every biker between Billiard and Bar to Sacramento. He shouted out a bawdy serenade to all drunks. They joined him, while Jenny picked his pocket. She would get a good tip that way.


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    1. Susan Kane; that's a good one. Time for Jenny to seek better jobs I think, someplace she might be happier. Think I'll avoid salt shakers for a while...

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  8. Such a very cute Grandpa!!!
    I never met mine, but my Dad´s Father left us a "gift", so here is my (true again) story:

    My Dad used to exemplify a lot - without being able to do the job even!
    We have a real Steinweg piano (no Steinway) and my Dad MADE me learn to play but I was always too fast, so he got me a metronome .
    And that was it.
    I have my own tempo or none at all.
    Sad.
    I should´ve put up a questionnaire or simply say, "well. Show me, play!"
    Maybe then I wouldn´t have given up.
    I´m not a piano-junkie, I sadly lost it all.
    Hubby bought an electronical keyboard, but, no.
    No way I vindicate to the piano.

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    1. Iris Flavia; I never met any of my grandparents either, not after we left Germany anyway and I was only six months old then, so I don't remember anything. I would have loved to learn piano, or at least try to.

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  9. Oh what fun! Quite a nice tale!

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    1. Maribeth; thank you and welcome to drifting. I don't post as often as I used to.

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  10. Susan is right, the more a writer writes, the better they get.

    So sad to lose bloggy friends go. It's a great community.

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    1. Elizabeth Seckman; welcome to drifting. I know Susan is right, but I'm often not motivated enough to sit and work out the story lines. Too easily distracted, that's me.

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  11. We can try to plant the seed, we can't control what actually sprouts. Wonderful story!

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