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Weekly Contest #340
*Some language* God, he hated funerals, he thought as he drove the parched road, dust billowing up behind his late model Mercedes. The windows were rolled down to let the hot air in and move around to at least simulate a cooling effect. The air conditioning had been broken since he bought the clunker 6 months ago. He let the sand blow in with the air and stick to his damp face. He ran his fingers through his too-ample hair pulling it back off his forehead. “You can’t say too-ample hair,” my character commented. “It sounds dumb. gloriously t...
Weekly Contest #339
We were told we had eight to twelve hours. We woke up in the Charleston, SC hotel while visiting his boy, James, and I knew Spud was off. He has traveled with me literally across the country, and up and down the eastern seaboard a dozen times and for months on end so he's a champ when it comes to traveling. But on waking in Charleston this time he didn't nuzzle his head between my legs for his ear scratch and full body massage. It's my way of helping his arthritic body wake up while also checking him for lumps and bumps. His ear flaps looked...
Weekly Contest #336
September 12, 2022 Whenever I would go into her house, which was several times a day, Mom was busy. Sorting mail, vacuuming, cleaning her shower, making a meal or cleaning up after it, organizing the pantry, cleaning the fridge. One afternoon, I watched and listened as she sorted through the condiments on the refrigerator door. “This can stay here.” She said, moving a bottle from one shelf to another. “The cider vinegar comes here. That’s not what I meant. You don't even have to go back in here now because they're...
Weekly Contest #335
Mom's Journal February 16, 1977 (pre-divorce, aka The Big D) The goals I set are not the answer; in fact, I am hampered by them. When I had so much to do that it couldn’t be accomplished, I was much happier; being on the boat, or in the camper, is rather like that. There is a pattern to the days. I feel I do not know where I am going, and I don’t like where I am. I need a purpose. A cause. I feel overwhelmed with things. A clean sweep; smaller quarters, time for living, not just existing. I’ve lost the joy in the everyday, the sense of newn...
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