“Of course it doesn’t work!” Taylor growled to herself! Stupid antique is probably there as a joke. Her dead mobile was in her pocket and she was going to be late… AGAIN!
“Need to make a call?” the black leather jacket squeaked as he stuck his thumbs in his front pockets.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t work.”
“Sure it does!” He lightly rapped the top of the phone then picked up the handset. “Here ya go!”
She heard the dial tone as she put the receiver to her ear. Surprised, she turned around to say “THAN..” but no one was there.
This is my entry for Friday Fictioneers for July 27, 2017 hosted by our lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. It is a wonderful challenge. Please follow the link below to give it a try!! 🙂
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
As I strolled along the ancient paths through the city, I could see the imprints in the stones of those who walked before me. The vines climbed the walls and the shutters banged hard against the walls from the wind. This town was founded in 1268 under the rule of Alfons von Kastilien of the House of Burgundy who would come to see his mistress in the dead of night and lay with her.
The court will convene tomorrow to finalize my lineage so I can take the throne on my 21st birthday. I still wonder how they tracked me down.
This is my entry for Friday Fictioneers for June 28, 2017 hosted by our lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. It is a wonderful challenge. Please follow the link below to give it a try!! 🙂
Soo.. a fellow blogger issued a challenge to me. Thanks Eli! I could come up with all kinds of excuses why I haven’t written anything as of late, but they would be lame and unoriginal.
The truth is I am not really sure why I haven’t written lately. Before graduation I had school to use as an excuse and that was legit. Between papers, books and projects, it really lent very little time to the indulgence of writing for “me” which is how I see blogging. Don’t get me wrong, I write! I just don’t post… I wrote book reviews, political analysis and political reflections for my classes which I really enjoyed. I wrote essays and projects on Presidential assassinations which I also loved doing but I also started a piece on boxes. Hmmm… why would you write about boxes you ask? Well, it is something that has been floating around in my head for a few days, months… ok years! And I finally got around to putting it down on paper. It is my go to analogy.
Once upon a time there was a book written by Bill and Pam Farrel called Men are like Waffles-Women are like Spaghetti. In it, they describe the psyche of men and women perfectly (in my opinion). Basically they say men are like waffles because they can compartmentalize every aspect of their life….job, family, parents, kids, football, yardwork… etc you get the idea. No matter what compartment they are operating in, they can keep it (and the emotions) separate from all of the other compartments and the twain shall never meet! But that isn’t the way women are wired. We are like spaghetti because we are all over the plate and EVERYTHING is connected! Ahhhh!
Personally I happen to think we are all a little bit of both. I have known some women who are champions at sectioning off parts of themselves from other things and people. I do that to some degree. However, I have also known men who are like spaghetti and all over the place! Drives me nuts! I think the best way for all of us to operate is to not only understand how the other sex is wired, but also try to be more like both, waffles and spaghetti. Women should learn to put things into boxes while knowing everything we do, see, feel and touch is connected to us. MEN.. You guys need to understand how we think! We don’t usually put things in boxes and separate them from the other stuff. To us when you forget to call on your way home, to say you will be late, that it tells us you do not care how it has affected A LOT of things and has caused a domino effect you are totally oblivious to. So when you walk in the door and we are angry at you, it is about MUCH more than simply forgetting to call even if it was totally innocent and had never happened before. If we yell at you on the phone about being late, we probably don’t truly care so much that you are late; we see that as a symbol of not caring for our feelings. The real problem lies in the fact that WE have no clue that is why we are yelling at you so how can we possibly get YOU to understand why we are yelling at you. All you know is someone is yelling so you are going to yell back! Sound familiar???
Bottom line! I am doing some research and working on expanding my box analogy to help people figure out what their boxes are and how to utilize them the best way. In other words….? Learn from what I have figured out on how to deal with life and not have the stupid clown jumping out of your box unannounced and slapping us because we forgot we stuffed the damn thing down and tried to pretend it wasn’t there. Pop goes the weasel!
My dad 🙂
The first time I saw my dad I was eight years old. He was warm and he was kind. I did not know what to think when I saw his eyes fill with tears. Why was he sad?
I was very young when I met my dad for the first time. I did not know he existed until I was seven years old. Very long story there…. But I remember the look on his face very vividly. All he could do was stare at me. He never really cried but I remember the tears sitting right on the edge of his lashes but they never fell. Today we have a wonderful relationship and I am glad he is still part of my life! 🙂
My friend Al is at it again with a new writing challenge. So I have done a little soul searching and put in my addition.
Now this week’s Trifextra challenge. This week we are asking you to count syllables. And words. It’s a lot of math for those of us who might be more accustomed to dealing with words, but we’re confident you can pull it off.
We are asking for a 33-word response to the following snippet:
The first time I saw. . .
Here’s the catch: all of your 33 words must be one syllable each. We’re going low-brow on your this week. Or not. To clarify, we are giving you 5 words. We want another 33 from you, for a grand total of 38.