Words for Wednesday
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 to read it and add a few encouraging words.
This month the words/prompts are supplied by Wisewebwoman and can be found here
This week's words/prompts are:
1.luscious 2.motel 3.wheelbarrow 4.jogging trail
and/or:
1.suspicion 2.speedboat 3.graveyard 4.iris
use either list or both, or mix and match, just have fun.
My own story will appear on this blog on Friday 12th
Here's mine. All words and colour used. Good luck everyone!
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Iris and Trevor ran along the cliff side jogging trail, enjoying a sunny calm day which always seemed to follow a previous day’s storms. And last night’s was a doozy. Howling winds roaring through their motel room. The decorative wheelbarrow of plants and flowers outside blown against their door, startling them.
Jane stopped, shocked, pointing downwards at the rocks.
The speedboat was that expensive luscious shade of pink known as Thrash Pink. An ironic name. Unfortunately there wasn’t much of the boat left now. The hull was in splinters, the motor merely salvage, if that. They didn’t spot any survivors and there was no access down to where the boat was lodged between two rocks.
It was ironically named “Suspicion” as if to invite the ocean fates which would demolish it.
The boat had obviously taken shelter there, foolishly ignoring the lighthouse flashing its warning of the rocks below. The local graveyard was full of such idiots, often unclaimed bodies rendered unrecognizable by the battering of the waves.
Sighing, Jane dialed emergency on her mobile, reporting yet another shipwreck on the coast of Cornwall.
Wisewebwoman; so well written but so sad to read. I wish people would be more careful when out on the water. Perhaps they got caught in the storm.
DeleteWow - a great (sad) story! Great use of the words! I, sorry, River, have nothing to add and look for ward to others and yours...
DeleteIris; no apology is necessary, not everyone can put words together as well as you put trains and trams together.
DeleteOh my Wisewebwomen, well done.
DeleteWisewebwomen: Molt bona història, trista però molt bona..
DeleteHow sad. Yes, people do some dumb things.
DeleteRiver, thank you - so far no accidents in my area ;-) Which, after all, goes all the way to Norway, where I had no proofreader and signed with my name! Seesh, that was not funny. Your Adelaide-tram still sits proudly on my shelf in front of my workplace.
DeleteHi Wisewebwoman - well done ... a sad story indeed ... lots could be added to embark on various tales arising out of this ... cheers Hilary
DeleteOof, yeah, why do some people think that they are above even the laws of nature? Thanks for using my colour.
DeleteCast a cold Eye / On Life, on Death. / Castaway, pass by!" ;-)
DeleteI took my wife, in a wheelbarrow, down the rocky jogging trail that was in a luscious forest behind the motel.
ReplyDeleteMike; I hope she enjoyed the ride.
DeleteWell done, too!
DeleteMike: Com sempre, espectacular!
DeleteNicely done!
DeleteA bumpy rude I suspect. Well done
DeleteAnd afterwards she took you back?
DeleteWill work on it.
ReplyDeletemessymimi; I'll have to work on mine too, I hope I can make the words fit the current story.
DeleteWas she alive? Or what?
DeleteMy story is over here.
Deletemessymimi: Llegida i comentada. ;-)
DeleteHi River - here's mine ... I'll be back to read the others ...
ReplyDeleteWhat joy – she could visualise the beautiful irises coming into flower in and around the church and graveyard – it was a wonderful gesture of the late church warden to leave a donation for the upkeep of her 'kingdom'.
She'd specified that we plant irises in all their glory – especially a new variety … she'd spotted before she died … so true because her name was Iris – now inscribed on the new gravestone.
We'd have a quiet get together to celebrate this new garden …
We knew she loved chocolate … probably hadn't helped her life … but the new plant – 'Iris Death by Chocolate' – how very appropriate – there'd be a border round her grave, then the other irises could be planted out in the churchyard.
I'd also worked out a way to get a mass of luscious chocolates across the small lake from the motel, where many of us were staying. Some, the energetic and fit ones, would run round on that jogging trail … but I don't tall into that category, and also I love creating a surprise …
So – I decided to hire the speedboat … I'd stay behind – fill the wheelbarrow with the chocolate heaven get it onto the boat and whizz over … to add to the picnic atmosphere … I'd be above suspicion with my subterfuge. A celebration for one and all.
Thanks - cheers Hilary
Iris, I'm sure, would be delighted and the irises in April will be thrusting forth their beautiful beards in chocolate, coffee and rust colours.
Beautiful take on the words, Hilary. I can see that garden. We have cliffs rampant with irises here in the Spring and they are one of my favourite flowers.
DeleteXO
WWW
Hilary: El trobo una mica surrealista, tot i que has fet un bon ús de les paraules.
DeleteMarilyn had driven 11 hours to find this marvelous motel, where apparently great and also awful things had happened. Being part of a mystery writers' club, she was excited to be part of this outing. The motel was built and prepared to host event, and they did it up well.
DeleteThe parking lot was empty and purple irises waved in dusky breeze. The famous graveyard spread out in light of the setting sun, casting shadows over and around gravestones. Marilyn waffled back and forth, but in the end, she headed to the graveyard..
Marilyn stepped onto the cemetery where she could wander through the silent stones, looking for a certain gravestone. She searched until night was edging its way, causing long shadows to spread around the graves.
From her family's graves to an old oak tree, Marilyn searched for the site of her Grandmother Reed and could see a shadowy figure drifting toward her. It reached a bony hand to Marilyn, telling her to "Come".
Marilyn was not surprised to see Grandma here for she had promised. Reaching a bony hand out to her, Grandma grasped Marilyn's shoulder, saying, "I'm sorry, so sorry."
Marilyn held her grandma's hand, feeling nothing at first, until a warm wave swept over her, causing her to explode into misty cloud.
Marilyn collapsed on the grave, feeling her grandma's hands sweeping over her. Suddenly, Grandma reached out, pulling Marilyn into her spectral shape. And. in a flash of light, Grandma dissolved into a mist, while Marilyn tumbled into the casket.
As her last thoughts came pouring into her brain, Marilyn sighed and whispered as she left life. "I drove 11 house for this?!
Hilary Melton-Butcher, what a nice story. Fun surprises are always welcome.
DeleteSusan Kane, well done on your ghost story.
Hilary Melton-Butcher; I love your story, irises for Iris and a speedboat delivery of luscious chocolates.
DeleteSusan Kane; I am wondering if she was doing a ghost drive, already dead but not realising until her grandmother pulled her in. Great use of the words.
DeleteHi Susan - that was interesting ... I'm just glad I'm going no-where near a graveyard! I wonder if the motel and surroundings disappeared too - leaving the graveyard to its own life far away from anywhere. Well done - cheers Hilary
DeleteGreat gesture panting all those flowers. And a wonderful, chockolatey surprise.
DeleteSusan Kane, what a spooky tale. I wondered same as Tiver if she had already dien en route.
@ Hilary: Good one. Death where is your sting? ;-)
DeleteThanks for your appreciative comments ... River, Messymimi, sa lluna, Wisewebwoman - cheers Hilary
ReplyDeleteThanks for a "sweet" read, Hilary. ;-)
DeleteI wrote an ending ... but I'm not truly done there. Back to read later Words for Wednesday.
ReplyDeleteHere's mine:
ReplyDeletehttps://elraconetdesalluna.blogspot.com/2025/12/el-corredor.html
En una tarda assolellada, un jove experimentat s'aventurà pel sender per a córrer que serpentejava a prop d'un antic cementiri, on el silenci era trencat només pel cant de les xitxarres. La brisa portava amb si un deliciós aroma dels iris i roses que adornaven les tombes. No obstant, una sospita s'apoderà d'ell en notar un carretó abandonat al costat d'un motel en ruïnes, que li recordava unes històries succeïdes en estranyes circumstàncies. Intrigat, va desviar la ruta i s'apropà amb cautela sense fer soroll.
En arribar, el motor d'una llanxa ràpida va ressonar a la distància, trencant el silenci. La curiositat el va portar a investigar, però la inquietud al seu interior el frenà. Quina història amagava aquell lloc que semblava congelat en el temps?...
Gràcies!
sa lluna; this is excellent, maybe he has stumbled upon a ghost motel.
DeleteRiver: Qui sap? He deixat el relat obert. ;-)
DeleteGood one, Paula! And no one around to tell the end? ;-)
DeleteTo make up for that last week words did not come easy to me I combine last week's prompts with this weeks prompts. ;-)
ReplyDeleteVoilà:
On his way to the graveyard passing the magnificent fountain behind the sacristy with his wheelborrow lusciously filled with bluebells and iris, he heard an ambulance passing the Connemara motel like a speedboat.
His suspicion: Castaways. He smiled: Or a thrash pink trumpet on the jogging trail .
Sean Jeating; this is a good one, I often hear ambulances racing past like speedboats here where I live.
DeleteSo many words - such a short story. Well done.
DeleteSean: D'això en dic un cuinat complet. ;-)
DeleteMolt bo!
My take on the prompts is here: Wishes and hurricanes. Thanks for the prompts, Wisewebwoman.
ReplyDeleteHave a lovely day.
Nice story ! I wished I could enjoy a sunny calm day, but the sun has disappeared here for an unknown time.
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