January 22: EAVESDROPPER. Many Thanks to Angela for today’s prompt, as we take a moment or two each day this month to reflect on words that come from the community. And thanks to Linda G Hill for getting us organized!
It started in his ears, a soft buzzing that originated from the high booth next to him. They’d come in from the cold, two women with long coats unzipping with such zest that he missed their initial conversation, after their loud greeting to the waitress, Margo, who seemed to always be working, at this particular breakfast and lunch café.
January 25: TRANSMISSION. Many Thanks to Dar for today’s prompt, as we take a moment or two each day this month to reflect on words that come from the community. And thanks to Linda G Hill for getting us organized!
She was new to this kind of weather.
After shoveling a thin strip from the apartment’s front entrance to her car, and digging an oasis around her door on the passenger side, she felt sure she’d solved the problem.
She was new to the northern climate, sure that her southern-bred skills fully prepared her for the winter days. She’d seen footage on the television, heard all the jokes, seen all the memes, but the job offer was too sweet to pass up. The on-street parking didn’t seem like a serious problem when she’d moved here in late Spring. She was hearty. She was adventurous.
January 11 – “OPINION”. Many Thanks to Johnfor today’s prompt, as we take a moment or two each day this month to reflect on words that come from the community. And thanks to Linda G Hill for getting us organized!
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Favorite restaurant, family owned, the best place to be if you want home-cookin’ not your own. Reliable quality, too: good soups and bread, burger and fries, miracles with eggs, real pan-fried fish that doesn’t come frozen from an oversized plastic bag stuffed with suspiciously uniformly shaped and sized, already-breaded hunks of fish flesh. Cocktails creatively concocted, local brewery beer on tap, rich, heavy coffee, served up black or tarted up with cream and syrup, or a shot of whisky.
January 9 – “Celebrate”. Many Thanks to Wendy for today’s prompt, as we take a moment or two each day this month to reflect on words that come from the community. And thanks to Linda G Hill for getting us organized!
(Part 3 of 3, continued from Stumble…)
Winter softened into Spring, Summer strolled by with bare shoulders and snapping flip flops, finally trading off the lazy slap of summer fun for the aromatic crunch of boots on fallen leaves. Squirrel Bird Woman was still feeding her charges, and it turned out that she had classes in many of the same buildings I haunted, as I grinded through my graduate coursework and final thesis. Not that I followed her around; we just walked many of the same campus paths. As my graduate program progressed, so did the number and mileage of walks I took.
Her range of feeding the animals was more extensive than Joe and I had realized. Piles of seeds were spread every quarter of a mile on the grass beside the sidewalks. She made her rounds early mornings and afternoons now, somehow refilling her buckets in between. Like me, she must have lived in one of the tiny apartments near campus. I knew better than to interrupt her efforts with words, but she did offer up a smile now and again. Progress.
January 1 – “Mindfulness”. Many thanks to Emily for today’s prompt, as we take a moment or two each day this month to reflect on words that come from the community. And thanks to Linda G Hill for getting us organized!
It snowed this morning. Again. I know it was this morning, probably after 7 am, because I didn’t see fresh tracks from the twin does that cross my back yard and jump over the waist-high fence that keeps our human neighborliness neighborly. The deer regularly stroll through before everybody gets up to start the bustle of their day. Cars running, lights snapping on in the winter dark, thump of young children’s feet on the thin wood floors, the jingle and crunch of a dog or cat eating and making music with their bowl of kibble. Meanwhile, I’m mindful in my dreams as I remember how busy life was when the kids were young.
Join us for a weekly blog party in Six Sentence Stories, hosted by Denise and attended by some mighty fine, fun folk. Prompt word=ACCENT. Two this week, as my brain went holiday numb last week…
“Umm, Ferah…you’ve been a wonderful hostess and all,” mumbled Rockmouse, tugging gently on the hem of the cat woman’s shirt after following her into the kitchen. “And we appreciate the clementines you’ve been supplying us—we don’t get much access in our homeland—but my tummy is beginning to feel a little acid, and too much gives Fernlodth gastric distress.”
I should’ve known better. This was just history repeating itself. After dark, but just before sunrise. Heavy snows three days in a row. Had to get up that early to be on time for my morning gig, so I rolled out of bed and headed outside.
Tall snow boots, puffy jacket, Andes hat to cover the ears, leather choppers lined with woolen undergloves. Garage door opener in one pocket, phone in another, and a lightweight snow shovel slung over my shoulder; I thought I was fully prepared. The goal was to clear the driveway before the plows got through, hoping to make clearing the street-side end easier, once the plows came through and dumped the street’s payload on the end third of my drive.
And then they’d come along once more, just to neaten the streets and undo all my hard work.
Valley of the Trolls 