Category Archives: One Word


One Word: reflection

mirrored through the words
the letters hide the faces
spaces of pores that breath in and out
the life of each who holds
the glass and says
the sassy sayings we say
to keep each other far away
the words the sounds
go round and round
and each arranged
and changed, estranged
from one another now
it’s your turn make them burn
the sounds the sights
the feel of all the spins
the ins and outs
of all the people by
them, for them, in them
why then is it so hard
to say what we mean
to mean what we say
break through give to
the light the way
the day is long as
we make it
take it it was always yours
the mind is a
wonderful thing to waste
have a taste
it’s lo-cal pork belly
apple jelly sweet
it’s held out to you
but knee jerk pull back
off the rack might fit
candle lit – the light
the light, give up the fight
we all fall down
you can have mine
the crown never suited me

Fridays Poem

One Word: Potato

fridays poem is full of grace
but saturdays a whole different animal
unwrapped and baked
the potato cake
can’t cut the mustard
custard dreams from sleeping in
the weekend deep end
drops off the cliff and
nukes the grannies
the nooks and crannies
the bacon hidden
butter me up
and I smile

Night Wings Part 10

One Word : wanted

To read the entire series click Night Wings link at the top of the page.


I am exhausted and should be asleep but every time I close my eyes, scenes from this night play over and over.  The freedom of flying through the night.  The shock and terror when they were attacked. Pictures of Ryall lying there hurt, wings changing from the beautiful midnight blue to gray to almost transparent and back again.  Emelia with her eyes shut, white blond hair streaming.  The eschatometer glowing – and just what IS that thing supposed to do?  The moment we joined and power flowed in and through us to heal Ryall.  It was not just healing, somehow – it was about us becoming more.

Until tonight there was danger, but it was a vague thing hiding in the corner.  Now it has a face and a weapon and it perches over the door waiting to hurt us.

Us.  I am becoming a part of this group – we are an us, as opposed to them.  My family is part of them.  Mattie is part of them.  How do they feel about what the paper said?  Do they think I could be their daughter one day and a stranger that would tear up their water supply the next? This is bad.  This is chest hurting, run away, don’t want to be a grown-up bad.

Ryall went to sleep still holding my hand and I know there is a bond there between us.  Is it just that we share flying?  I don’t think so.  I’ve had friends, even a boyfriend for awhile.  It’s different with Ryall.  He knows me. I’m never nervous talking to him.  It’s everything else that confuses and scares me now.  What happened when we all joined with Emelia to heal Ryall?  I thought we just had our individual gifts.  There had been stories about what the papers were calling “reborns”, but nothing about sharing gifts.

So how am I supposed to figure all this out when the only real things are the warmth of Ryall’s hand, Emelia whimpering in her sleep, Ralph over there snoring, and a feeling of my life being out of control.  My eyes are burning and tears are right there, but I am not going sit here and cry in the dark. I will learn to be strong for Ryall, and for the rest of my new friends.

The only thing I am certain about tonight, is that I can’t survive without my friends.   I lost my family.  I wonder if my mom cried when Mattie told her why I was gone.  Does my dad miss me, or does he just go on to work like he always did?  Come home to the paper and dinner and his pipe?  Who watches over Mattie now?

Ryall says it is too dangerous to go back and check on them.  Mekaneks will watch the house for awhile.  Others have been caught that way, and so I will wait and learn to take care of my new family.  Ryall is kind of their unofficial leader.  Where do I fit in with that? He doesn’t give orders or try to take over.  There is just something about him that makes you respect and trust him.  I don’t think he likes it.  He just wanted to help people like him.  Like us. Sometimes when the others look to him for a decision or advice, there is a frightened look in his eyes just for a second.  I don’t think anyone else even notices. If we were all normal, he would be the quiet guy that sits in the back of the class and never participates but gets decent grades and just kind of flies under the radar.  Ha ha, flies under the radar.  I guess I am beyond tired if that seems funny to me.

Ryall squeezes my hand in his sleep, as though he knows what I am thinking somehow.  That thought makes me shiver.  After tonight, I believe anything is possible, except sleep.

Night Wings Main Page

Night Wings Part 7

Sunday Scribbling #204 Big Dreams and One Word: Idiot

To read previous Night Wings stories click the nightwings tag at the bottom of this post

Morning always comes and the soft pink light of dawn was creeping over the city skyline. Ryall awoke, stiff from sleeping half sitting against a wall.  Kystel was still asleep with her head on his shoulder.  He hated to wake her but they were exposed out here in the light.  He moved, trying to get more comfortable and she opened her eyes and sat up, looking slightly embarrassed.

“I..I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay. We both fell asleep.  We need to get inside though.”  He stood and reached out his hand to help her up.  She let him pull her up and ran fingers through her hair.  They walked to the access door and before they could get to it it burst open and Sloan came flying out, skidding to a stop.

“Ryall!  I’ve been looking all over for you!  Oh, Hi Kystel.  Come on, man you got to see this!”

He was pulling Ryall by the arm and as they ran down the stairs he told them between breaths. “Ralph is dreamwalking again.  I got up and he had been working all night.  You have to see it!.  I think he has it working!”

They were taking the steps several at a time, Kystel following as quickly as she could.  They arrived at Ralph’s workshop the same time as Emelia.  Lolly and Arkin were already there.  They were huddle around the back of his workbench staring down at something glowing with a blue-greenish light. Ryall stepped up to Ralph and lifted the goggles from his face.  Underneath, his eyes were closed.  He continued working with his hands.  This must be what Sloan meant about dream walking.

Kystel couldn’t quite see what was on the workbench, so she moved closer.  Ralph was just standing in front of the bench now.  Ryall put his hand on his shoulder and said his name.  Ralph slowly opened his eyes.  He looked down at the bench and picked up a chain.  Attached was a glowing ball that had a depth to it – green and blue sparkling fluid like substance changing constantly.  The globe was encased in copper rings that moved separately.  It was beautiful.

Ralph walked to Emelia and placed it around her neck.  Emelia’s eyes grew wide in consternation.  “What are you doing, Ralph?  I don’t want that!  Take it off!”  Emelia began to pull the chain over her head and the colors changed.  The bright glowing blues and greens turned grayish and started to have a pink shimmer.

“Emelia, don’t!” Ryall said.

Ralph held up a hand.  “It has to be you, Emelia.”

“How do you know? You sleep walking fool!  Why do you think you have the answers?” Emelia snarled at him, but Arkin put his hand on her arm.

“Leave him alone Emelia.  You know he doesn’t know how it works.  It just comes through him.”  She looked up at Arkin with tears in her eyes and he hugged her.  “You’re the healer.  It makes sense.”

Ralph had backed up into the corner and was hugging his coat around him.  “I’m sorry Emelia.  Don’t be mad.”

Emelia looked at him over Arkin’s shoulder. “I’m not mad, you idiot.  You know I’m not. And I’m not scared either!  And you!  Get off me you big creep!” She pushed Arkin away and looked around defiantly.  “What are you all looking at?  So now what, Ralph?”

“Now, we wait.”

Kystel looked around the group.  “Is someone going to explain this to me?”

Ryall smiled. “Ralph found a book.” We’re still trying to figure it all out.”

Ralph yawned.  “I started doing the weird sleep working thing.  It’s like something was coming through me, like I was the radio and the music found my wavelength.”

Kystel frowned.  “So what does it mean? We are a bunch of weirdos that part of the world thinks are freaks of nature that should be destroyed and now we have jewelry that’s as freaky as we are?”  You are all crazy, and I’m beginning to think I’m crazy too.”

“Yeah, we’re all wackadoo and you’re our new queen. Get over it Kystel. At least you don’t have to wear the freaky bauble.”  Emelia was holding the chain away from her neck and looking down at it like it might bite her.

Ralph was asleep with his head on his arms and snoring.

Lolly smiled. “It’s about balance.  Balance for us.  Balance for the world.”

Sloan chimed in.  “There’s good and bad, humans and machines. That’s our dream.”

Ryall waved Arkin over to help him pick up Ralph. “Come on Kystel, don’t you wonder why we can fly and why Emelia can heal, and all the others?  There has to be a reason.”

They took Ralph over to a couch and covered him with his coat.

“Well all this thinking is making me hungry.  Somebody want to show the new girl where stuff is so we can get breakfast cooked?”  Kystel wasn’t about to go completely crazy on an empty stomach.

Night Wings Main Page

Nothin Says Lovin…

One Word Run Amok : Muffin

Jim drove to his brown brick house after work and picked up the newspaper from the driveway. He unlocked the front door just like he had done every weekday for the last twenty two years. He had finally had enough of the sameness and had come to the conclusion that he would just have to tell Liza that he wanted a divorce.  He needed to make a change or he was going to go insane.

He walked through the door and called out to Liza, noticing the enticing aroma.  She had been baking.  As he rounded the corner from the taupe entry hall into the living room he stopped in shock.  There were muffins on every surface.  Chocolate chip muffins on the grand piano.  Lemon poppyseed on the entertainment center.  Banana muffins were stacked two deep on the couch and recliner.  He slowly wandered through to the kitchen staring as he went.  He reached for one and bit into it.  “Oh my, this is heavenly!” He thought. He finished it and reached for one that looked like strawberry and peeled the paper from the bottom and ate it in two bites.

The kitchen was more of the same – muffin upon muffin, every flavor you could imagine.  Liza was standing in front of the stove, sweat causing little wispy curls to stick out around her flour smudged face.  She was wearing a tan apron that said Kiss The Cook and fiendishly stirring something in a mixing bowl.

“Liza, what in the world?”  He started to ask but his attention was diverted to a stack of lovely chocolate fudge muffins on the top of the refrigerator.  His mouth full, he could only stare at her with questioning eyes.

“Did you want to say something to me Jim, darling?”  She continued to stir and smile while he ate four more of the muffins.  He was kind of full now but couldn’t stop himself.  She placed paper liners in another muffin tin and spooned batter into the prepared cups.

“This batch will be ready in about fifteen minutes.  Why don’t you have a seat there at the table.”

There were serving platters and dessert trays heaped with more and more muffins on the table.  He sat down still watching her and mechanically reached for a muffin and began to eat.  He continued for the next half hour as she piled more and more on the table.  He stared at her pleadingly, tears running down his face as he chewed, swallowed, and reached for another and another.

“Sorry Jim, dear. You’ve been talking in your sleep.  I’ve cooked and cleaned, and watched your favorite shows on television.  I’ve heard you tell your friends that my cooking is to die for. Yesterday I went to pick up the dry cleaning.  Your beige suit, remember?  Just nod dear, I know you can’t talk with your mouth full.”

Jim nodded, grimacing in pain as he continued to chew.  He was sputtering crumbs  but steadily poking more muffin into his mouth.

“Anyway, there was the cutest little shop.  It just opened up next to the used book store.  They had a lovely window display, all these crystals and candles and stones that are supposed to have special powers?  I went inside and the sweet lady behind the counter seemed so kind, we just got to talking.  I was upset and confided in her about how I was so worried about losing you.  She told me she had exactly what I needed.”

Liza held up a small brown bottle.  The label read Queen Bee’s Irresistible Flavoring.

“Just a drop, she said.  Just a drop and you would not be able to resist my cooking.  Then the other night when you were asleep, you talked about how boring I was and how you hated your life. I just thought, you know?  If a drop would work, how much better if I used the whole thing?”

Liza was giggling now as Jim slid to the floor, crumbs spilling out of his mouth and face turning blue.  Liza took off her apron and stretched.  She put her hands on her hips and looked around as if seeing the kitchen for the first time.  “I have never noticed how dull this room looks before.  I think I will paint it a nice shade of blue”.

Greenback Smack

One Word: Cash

Sunday Scribbling: Ethics

We don’t take no credit cards
round here
your money ain’t no good
the cost can’t be
calculated or
spread on a sheet
just justified
balance owed
toe to toe the line
you will pay
oh yes you will
everybody does but
turn out your pockets
nothing but lint
what you thought you’d won
the taste, the sweet, the syrupy
goodness that turned
to sawdust in your mouth
and crumbled like
west Texas dirt
only to cough up the price
the ice
the nice piece of change
we need one
and it will come
cash only
no returns, no refunds
no re-runs
some things only come round once
make our heads spin
the delicate cycle
down and down into
deep pockets
empty sockets
no peeking without
a ticket
a tick tock clock
pay by the hour
time is money
and time is running out

One Word Blade

One Word : blade

big bang sliced in two
dark matter blade
wielded by hand unseen
split worlds right down
the middle
star shattered raining
through Neptune’s clouds
droplets of fire
searing through to the center
doesn’t hold
never does
mountains hammered out
plateau and valley
climb or fall
we all end up
holding the handle
forged in your grey matter
smothering light with dreams
that won’t wake
we swim through to the dawn

No Second Glance

One Word: Glance

She turned her head and just for a moment the face was there, then it was gone.  She kept walking, glancing behind her. She shook her head and laughed, thinking it must have been a shadow.  She turned the corner relieved to be on her own street.  It was almost embarrassing to be afraid to walk the three blocks to her house after work.  She sped up, twisting her uniform vest into knots.  In the twilight, she could see her house now.  It had rained most of the day and though it had stopped, she could still hear the run off draining into the ditch next to the street.  Halfway down the block she heard a noise.  Someone calling for help.  It was coming from the ditch.

“No way am I going down there!” She thought.  She started to pass by and then sighed.  She looked over the edge but it was too dark to see anything.  She called out. “Are you ok?  I’m coming.  Talk so I can find you!”

She heard a noise like a soft moan and went down the side toward the sound.  “Hello?” She called. She was sliding a little now, holding on to bushes.  It was wet and muddy and what was that smell?  “Hello?” She called out again.

A voice in the dark said “Down here.  I can’t get up!”  She moved closer and saw the shape of someone lying half in the water.  She hurried to it and crouched down to see what was wrong.  She saw black shiny eyes and moonlight glinting off rows of tiny teeth.   Long talons grasped her wrist.

The next morning police were called when the remains of a young woman were found by a couple of kids chasing a soccer ball down in the drainage ditch.  Her neck was broken and her eyes were gone.

Days Of Our Lives

Three Word Wednesday: Jolt, ribbon, and Zeal and One Word: Powder

“Like sands through the hour glass…so are the days of our lives”  The mellow voice on the television promised glamour and drama while Mama did the ironing.  The powder never seemed to fill the bottom of that glass.    Mama was a stickler. Even hair ribbons and sheets had to be ironed with a zeal Katie just couldn’t understand.

“Boy that Julie is a pistol!  She’s gonna break her poor mother’s heart if she keeps chasing after that man.  I don’t care if he does wear a suit.  That Doug is no gentleman!”

Katie slipped into the kitchen and eased the lid off the cookie jar, silent, or so she thought.

“Katie?  You stay out of those cookies!  You will spoil your supper.”

How did she do that?  “Yes Ma’am!” Katie called as she wrapped two of the fresh baked chocolate chip cookies in a napkin.  She ran out the back door and walked up the street to the corner, slowly savored the warm cookie and the gooey chocolate being careful not to get it on her shirt.  Mama would have torn her up if she got chocolate all over her clothes.  She turned the corner and walked to Robinson’s Drug store.  It was still a couple hours until supper time.  She liked to look at the make-up and the magazines. Mama wouldn’t let her wear make-up yet and she sure wasn’t going to let her buy one of those glamour magazines though Katie couldn’t figure out how a magazine was worse than Mama’s stories.

She wandered the aisles picking up packages of eye shadow.  She loved the names of the colors. Bronze Shimmer and Desert Sunset.  The fancy names sounded a lot better than tan and pink.  She thumbed through a magazine, looking at the hairstyles.  Katie felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped, dropping the magazine.  Mr. Robinson was standing there.  He bent to pick up the magazine.  “Are you planning to buy this, young lady?”

Katie shook her head and frowned.  “No sir.”  She went to school with his son. Katie always thought Jack was kind of a jerk but she tried to be pleasant.  She knew his mom was sick a lot.  She felt funny about the way Mr. Robinson was standing kind of close.  She wished he would back up a little.  There was no way for her to move without seeming rude and she knew her Mama would not be happy if Mr. Robinson told her Katie was looking at magazines in his store and not buying them.

“I guess we can just forget this little magazine incident.  I better never catch you stealing from my store again, though.”

“I wasn’t stealing!”  Just then he bent and kissed Katie right on the mouth!  She backed up with a jolt, almost knocking the magazine rack over. She turned and ran to the door, swiping her hand across her mouth.  She heard him laughing as she stumbled outside.  She started running and didn’t slow down until she was nearly home.  She was half afraid he was following. She was out of breath and glanced behind her but there was no one there. She kept walking toward her home.

Now what should she do?  Should she tell her Mama?  What if he said Katie was lying because he caught her stealing?  Would her Mama believe her?  He was a grown-up and grown-ups  never believed kids.  He was on the P.T.A. for crying out loud!  She rubbed her mouth with her shirt-tail.  Gross!  How was she going to face Jack at school?  If she told then everyone would know.  Now she really felt sorry for Jack.  His mom was sick and his dad was a perv.  Jeez how lucky can you get?  She kicked a stone on the sidewalk.

What could she say if Mama wanted her to go to the drugstore to buy something.  She never wanted to go back to that place!  She closed the screen door without slamming it for once.  Her Mama turned from the stove and smiled.  “You’re just in time.  Go get washed up and set the table.”  Katie went to the sink and scrubbed her hands.  She set the table.  Mama brought the food to the table and they both sat down and Mama said the blessing.

Mama put a chunk of meat loaf on her plate and passed her the mashed potatoes.  Katie took some and didn’t even fuss when Mama placed a big spoonful of green beans next to the meatloaf.  Katie ate a little piece of the meatloaf and then made patterns in her mashed potatoes with her fork.  Her mother watched her as she ate her own dinner. Finally, she put her fork down and crossed her arms in front of her. “What’s wrong?  You love my meatloaf and you haven’t even asked for the catsup. You haven’t said three words since you got home.”  Katie knew she wasn’t going to let this go.

“I went to the drugstore today.  I was looking at make-up and I picked up a magazine to look at and anyway, you know Mr. Robinson?”

Her Mama nodded, frowning.

“Well, he kinda kissed me.”  Katie started crying.  Her Mama was sitting there with her mouth hanging open. Katie just knew she was in for it now. Any minute her Mama was going to yell at her and she would probably be grounded for a thousand years!

“Katie Rose!  Did he touch you?”  She had never seen her Mama look like that.  She looked mad sick at the same time.

“No, ma’am.  He just kissed me. On the mouth.  It was totally gross.  I’m sorry Mama.” Katie started to cry again.  Mama was out of her chair hugging her. “Katie, you are not in trouble.  Men like Mr. Robinson always think girls will be too scared to tell anyone.   I ought to take my iron to his head.  Why Olivia has stayed with him all these years is beyond me!”

The next day Mama was going to the drug store.  Mrs. Robinson had asked her for her Chocolate Cake recipe and she had written it down and folded it and placed it in an envelope.

“You’re not going to tell her what happened are you?”  Katie was mortified at the very thought of it.
“No.   But I will make sure Mr. Robinson sees me hand his wife this envelope.  He can draw his own conclusions.”

Maybe Mama had learned a thing or two from watching TV.  Katie had a whole new respect for Mama and her soap operas that day.


Sunday Scribbling# 197: Extreme and One Word: Latch

there’s always a catch
a stainless steel latch
locks you in
keeps you out
turn the handle
light the candle
there’s a light
that’s never shown on me
that’s what the song said
chorus and verse
birth to hearse
become the game
the rules
the same
the lame excuses of old
can’t, won’t, shouldn’t
couldn’t if I wanted to
rearrange the pieces
they still won’t fit
the picture is overrated
the cost prorated
the directions keep changing
like the landscape
like the superman cape
you need to fly
to try
don’t do extreme
moderation is key
in all things, they say
life swings like a pendulum
the wheel turns and
the wick burns
and smiles don’t pay the piper
now or later
you’re gonna come down
Joni sang it, knew it
we listened but did we
do it
we came for the banquet
all you can eat
that’s what the invite said
but we all cried
when the bill came due
we were still hungry
though the table looked pretty
it lured and drew
like a moth to flame
like children we came
grasping, shoving, like hounds
barking and growling for scraps
from the laps
of those that would have all
be all that, satin and lace
a pretty face
we wanted meat
sweet succor
but we settled for the package
the trappings
the wrapping
and got the empty box
the crumpled bag
the ragged sound
of our own tears
the years we could have
fed one another

One word Reflection

One Word : Burst

I hoped I wouldn’t have to tell her the truth.  I tried to find some gentle terms to enclose it so as to take the sting away.  I hated to burst her bubble, but she just wouldn’t put the mirror down. I don’t know what she thought she saw, but she stared at it until she was a shriveled corpse.  No amount of wrinkle cream is gonna fix that.

Delicious Secrets

Sunday Scribbling prompt #195: delicious

Prompted to write: Fixer Upper

One Word: Clasp


photo credit: Hammer51012

Clarice hated contests of all kinds so everyone who knew her was shocked when she announced she had put her name in the hat for the local radio contest.  Twenty-one weeks of clues and there were four contestants left.  The clues had all been historical facts about Ira Township and her family had lived here for generations.  She knew nearly everything about the area and what she didn’t know, could be found in the trunks in her attic.  She hoarded and protected those secrets.  They would have their uses.  For now, she just examined the good people of this town with new eyes – eyes that knew what was behind the nuances and alliances. Delicious stuff.

The only other contestant that worried her was Brent Carmichael.  He had lived here all of his life too.  The prize was the old Vernier house and she wanted that house more than anything she had ever wanted in her life.  Not because it was a great house.  It was a monstrosity.  It was old and not in a good way. It was badly in need of costly repairs and some New Age nut cases had gotten a hold of it for awhile and done bizarre things with paint.

The house held a secret.  She was pretty sure that she and Brent were the only people alive who knew about it and if Brent won, the secret would never be told, because it was about his family.  He had always bragged about the Carmichaels, so uppity like they were something special because some of his ancestors had been among the founding fathers of the township.  The Vernier house had originally been built by Zachary Carmichael and it had been in the family until old man Vernier bought it back in 1951.

Clarice stopped in at Mabels and ordered a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll.  She had barely gotten her cream stirred in when in walked Brent.  He nodded at her and she nodded back, fuming.  There went her appetite.  She held up a finger at Lorraine and the waitress brought her the check.  She left cash enough for her bill and a tip sitting on the table and draped her pashmina around herself, grabbing up her newspaper and strode out the door.  It was one hour until the last clue would be given out on the radio and she wanted to be near her research and a phone.  She spared one last grimace for Brent as he nearly got choked on his coffee when he looked up and saw her looking at him.  She smiled inside thinking about how he would look if he truly was choking.

She started her car and drove home, hitting the garage opener and parking inside.  She settled with her trunks and her cell phone on the cushions she had drug up to the attic and waited for the radio station to broadcast the last clue.  The intro music played and the broadcaster welcomed everyone back to the final round of the Ira Township History Contest.  Clarice fidgeted with her phone, wishing the imbecile would quit dragging out the excitement and get to the clue.  She listened and hit the speed dial button on her phone.  She didn’t even have to look this one up.  She was the first caller!  She rapidly gave the answer and goofy horns and bells and whistled hit her double, from the phone and the radio which she quickly lowered the volume on.  She had done it!  The house would be hers!

She made arrangements with the station to meet them the next day for promo shots of her taking the key to the house and poured herself a glass of champagne from the bottle she had bought, anticipating the ending.  Too bad she couldn’t see Brent’s face right now.  That was the only thing that could make this sweeter.  Her cell rang and she knew the number that showed up on her screen.  She answered sweetly. “Hello, Brent! Calling to congratulate me?”  She smiled and did a little dance as she waited for his answer.

“I should kill you for this Clarice.”  Void of the usual sarcasm, his voice sounded tired and sad.

“I’d like to say I’m sorry Brent, but that would just be a big old lie.  You know all about big old lies, don’t you?  I mean, seeing as how your entire family and their history in this town is predicated on the hugest one of all?  Grand daddy Zach braving hardships all alone and then befriending the local Indians who helped him stay alive those first few winters right?”

“Clarice, you bitch.  You’ll ruin me and my family if you don’t keep your mouth shut!”

“Brent, dear, I’m counting on it!”  She clicked end on her phone and spun around laughing.  This was just too wonderful.  She remembered every slight.  Every time Brent and his family had treated her like dirt, like she wasn’t good enough for them, just because of the divorce.  The story was that her grandmother had been divorced by Brent’s Grandfather because she had an affair.  Clarice knew the truth.

The next day she dressed with care and drove to the old Vernier house.  The Newspaper and Radio people were already there.  The bright yellow van with CKLW The Sound of the Motor City painted on the side was parked across the street and the guy from the radio was chatting with Mr. Hornberger from the Blue Water Weekend, a little weekly rag that was more ads than news.  Clarice checked her hair and make-up in the mirror and got out of her car, noticing Brent’s car parked down the block.  She gave a little wave and walked over to the Radio van.

“Gentlemen? Let’s get this show on the road!” Clarice was excited about the hoopla, but the big prize was after everyone left and she had the house to herself.  She had brought supplies with her so she wouldn’t even have to go home.  A pair of jeans, work gloves, sledge hammer, and a nice picnic basket of treats for celebrating.  The obligatory interview and pictures of her with the radio station president handing over the key as they both posed for the camera were out of the way.  She shook hands with everyone, smiling and bobbing and thanking them repeatedly.  All she could think about was being alone and getting in that house.

She smiled and waved as they drove off. Time to unload the car and get to it!  She hauled everything inside and changed into work clothing.  Clarice wasn’t sure how much trouble it was going to be but she was prepared.  She carried her tools and a lantern down the creaky basement steps and looked around.  There was a little light coming through the basement windows.  The basement was completely empty, a little dusty from sitting there for years with no one living here.  The last residents had cleaned it obobbydimitrovut.  She started walking around the basement, knocking on the walls and listening for a hollow sound.  When she had found the spot she was looking for, she got her sledge hammer and hoisted it up.  She let loose on the wall and a hole appeared with spider web cracks branching out around it.

The stupid hammer weighed a ton and she could barely lift it but once she got it moving, the weight carried it the rest of the way.  In a short time she had made a person sized hole in the wall.  She could see something in there but she held back, not allowing herself to look until she could clean out the debris and get in there with the lantern.  It was there!  The skeleton of the Indian woman old Zach had taken as a common law wife after he divorced her grandmother.  Along with the pile of bones was the necklace her grandmother had described in her journal and the original deed to the land that would become the town.  Here was all the proof she needed that old Zach had forced the woman to sign the paper and then killed her and walled over the proof!  She took pictures and stuck the camera in her jacket pocket.

Taking the wall down had been hard work.  She went upstairs to get her picnic basket and went back down to the basement to celebrate in front of her prize.  Next city council meeting, Brent would resign, citing health issues and she would step in.  She had other secrets to use.  Mr. high and mighty mayor who had been the town pharmacist for years had been getting a little too touchy feely with the young girls that came in the store.  Everyone felt sorry for him because his wife had been ill as long as anyone could remember.  Maybe he was the one making her ill.  Old Ed Borowski had also opposed her being on the council.  Everyone respected Ed.  He had the contracts for all the major construction in the county.  There were a few “skeletons” in his basement too.  She smiled at that thought.  They were all in for a surprise.  She was lost in her thoughts, munching her egg salad sandwich and didn’t hear the sound of the hammer swishing down at her head until it was too late.

Brent drug her body in behind the partial wall and sat down to finish her meal.  Building that wall back was going to be an all night job but it would be worth it.  There would be a bit of a stir when people realized Clarice was missing but it would blow over.  Maybe he would suggest they condemn this place at the next city council meeting.


One Word : Give

hand extended
words created
food offered
for the body, for the soul
we have so, are so, become so
but what we are
what we feel
what we say
with our lives
hear the rustle of wings
holding up
covering over
wrapping in words
in smallest gifts
in least of, last of
most broken
most bent
most healed
soft as feathers
fragile as snowflakes
strong as steel
fleeting as breath
forever as
the soul
the heart
the whatever it is
that keeps us
on this planet
face to face
back to back
hand in hand

Merry Christmas world.

One Word: Wallpaper

I’ve been reading instead of writing and enjoying family time. It seems too easy to get out of the habit so here is a little something to hopefully get me started.  I hope all are well and warm and well fed this season.

One Word : wallpaper

The wallpaper was the last thing she saw.  How ironic.  It was the ugliest stuff she had ever laid eyes on and now she was dying and as she fell, she found herself laying there with her face to the wall.  Gold flocking on blue – it gave the whole room a greenish tinge, with reflections of the Christmas tree lights.  She thought about how she would look when they found her.

Don’t Touch That Dial

For some explanations of haiku and the American sentence see here.  My first humble attempt using One Word: dial for a prompt. Thank you Chris for the explanation and the wonderful examples.

No matter which direction he turned the dial the volume never lessened.

he searched for music
fingers twirling dials around
silence is better

music haunts the airwaves
dials and knobs turn to beauty
floating to my ears

Meh, I’ll keep at it.  Thanks Chris

The Slippers

One Word prompt: slippers

She walked into the house and went straight back to the bedroom.  She was beyond tired.  People had been so nice.  The service was nice. Everything was so damn nice she wanted to scream or slap somebody.  The fridge was full of food.  She would be trying to decide if she wanted chicken or ham for supper for the next week.  There were pies and cakes and jello molds.  A neighbor had brought the potted plants home and set them on the driveway next to the porch door for her.  She would find somewhere to put them.  She never could stand waste.  Was that a noise? Something ticking?

Maybe…maybe she could stand it a little bit right now.  She really could care less about the stupid plants. There was a little bit of mad filling up her throat but it got tamped down again by the numbing sadness.  Did she hear something?

What was it all for?  She had scrimped and saved.  The kids were grown.  They should be traveling, enjoying life now.  She had tried to get him to watch his diet, take better care of himself.  He worried about every little thing that happened.  He worried and ate and ate and worried until his heart just exploded.  Now what would she do.  Nothing she could do except write thank you cards and pay the funeral home.  There was some business to take care of. Notifications to make.  Loose ends to tie up.  There.  She heard it again.  She was sure it was something ticking.

She sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off her shoes.  She reached for her slippers and there, under the edge of the bed, she saw them.  Right next to her pink fluffy house shoes.  They were worn out.  The leather was soft and the inside was lined with red plaid flannel.    She put her head in her hands and wept.

The Stone

One Word: cone Sunday Scribbling : Oracle

The cone shaped stone sat in the center of their village. It had been there as long as the oldest of them could remember.  No one knew where it came from but the old ones whispered and crossed themselves whenever they had to walk past it.

One summer night when the lightening was burning in the velvet sky with no rain in sight, the stone began to glow.  The villagers came one by one to stand around it, not getting too close but needing to see.  There was a crackling sound in their midst and the strange one who was new, came walking out of the crowd.  Her hair was standing straight out from her head and sparks were flying out from her.  Her eyes were black and staring at something only she could see.  They backed away leaving a wide path for her.

She was barefoot and as she approached the stone, runes appeared all over the surface.  When she was almost to it, light sprung from the runes as though it was filled with lightening itself.  She reached both hands to touch it and she and it burst into a cold white flame that died almost as soon as it flared up.  The light momentarily blinded the villagers who had backed off screaming and covering their eyes.

As their sight returned, they fearfully looked upon the spot where the rock had stood for hundreds of years.  The rock was completely gone and now the girl with the lightening hair was laying on the ground and the delicate pattern of the runes from the stone was imprinted on her skin in lavender and blue.  The girl moaned and sat up.  Her hair was now snow white but she looked unharmed.

“What happened?” she asked, but all turned and ran back to their houses leaving her there alone, except for a wee child. “What do you want?” she asked the child.  The child pointed to the stream and the girl walked to the edge and looked down.  In the moment when the lightening shot across the sky she looked at her reflection in the water and lifted a hand to her face to touch.  When she turned around, the child was gone.