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Hope you’re all having a good, productive weekend and that the words are flowing.
Here’s today’s prompt from Robert Lee Brewer at Poetic Asides:
…today's prompt is to write an angry poem (six). That is, a poem (six) about someone or something that gets angry. Could be a person, animal, or even them there angry clouds.
I’m still in the mood to mix things up, so rather than the usual offering from the Writer’s Book of Matches, I’m providing a prompt based on a snippet of conversation overheard at the Chinese buffet yesterday. Here it is, straight from Lin’s Garden (best Chinese food in southeast Wisconsin, IMO):
“You’re freaking me out.”
I have more gems from Lin’s (along with happy memories of their awesome steamed dumplings). Expect them to pepper the prompts over the next twelve days as we head toward the finish line.
Good luck and see you in the comments
Change is Good--Right?
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Hello dear readers--are you still out there?
It's been awhile, and I wouldn't blame you for moving on. I felt the need
for change, and have spent some tim...
6 years ago
6 comments:
It's seriously pitiful how badly I cheat on sentence count. Even worse is how unapologetic I am over it :)
AFTER THE REVELATION
“You’re freaking me out.”
Eyebrows raised, he turns to look at her and says, “I’m freaking YOU out?”
She blinks a few times, then turns to look out the window of his old car. She looks smaller, suddenly younger, than before.
“It’s the way you’re looking at me.” Her breath fogs the window.
He sighs, time and the space between them throbs, then he says, “Well, what do you expect?”
“I don’t know, just not this, just…something.” She traces a line in the fog on the window. “I just want you to say everything will be okay.”
He slides from beneath the steering wheel across the long expanse of bench seat, the bench seat that got them into this, then pulls her close, breathing in the humidity mixing with her lavender shampoo. “It will be okay,” he tells her, kissing her hair. “You’ll see; we’ll get through this together.”
"the bench seat that got them into this" what a great line!
I'll go with the angry prompt:
Hani didn't know what to expect upon seeing his first dead person. The medic kept his face neutral as he peeled back the sodden quilt covering the body.
Hani's knuckles turned white as he clamped down on the edge of the stretcher, the distant roar building in his ears had nothing to do with the sounds of tanks rolling through nearby streets.
"Yes, it is my brother," Hani said after the medic asked if he recognized the dead man.
Something inside him shifted, a dark seed suddenly erupting, spearing his heart with its vindictive roots.
Yay! John is back.
Nice job on today's six. It's deceptively brief with many, many layers. I get something new every time I read it.
I wish you'd review all my stories.
By the way, I love seeing you pop up on Every Day Fiction. I get it in my mailbox and try to start my day off with a read and brief critique. There are some really sharp pieces and then some that make me wonder what the editorial board was smoking when they accepted it.
--John
Nice job from the both of you.
A little six based your tour in overseas, John? Either way, that was a good snapshot.
I'm a little late to the party on this one, and I couldn't resist Greta's eavesdropping.
The Apology
“I want to apologize about last night,” I said, “and to explain why I couldn’t let you go over to your friend’s party.”
I told her about my childhood—about Diana Morling, one of the brightest students I ever knew, who could pass tests like nobody’s business and was gearing up for Harvard or Yale or some other Ivy League school, but in one year blew it all away for a jock and some drugs. In fact, the last I heard, Diana had contracted HIV by going to some party and shooting cocaine with a bunch of people.
“It can happen to anyone’s daughter, no matter how good they’re raised,” I continued, “and I just don’t want it happening to you.”
Maddie looked at me for a moment, her dark eyes drilling me with questions I only wished I could answer. Finally, she put on her headphones, thumbed her ipod, and said, “You’re freaking me out.”
One of the tough moments of parenting at its best, Stephen.
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