Someone Should Have Brought a Compass (Love’s Path)

 

We never knew our way around this place

Content to navigate blindly

The lost leading the lost

I tripped you up and picked you up

You tripped me up and picked me up

Love kept us going,

Or pride

Invested efforts in the wrong direction

Never knew our way

 

 

 

 

 Method to My Madness 🙂

*Inspired by Day 5 of Writers Digest PAD Challenge

Theme: Disguise

So, around midnight, I started thinking, what can I  do for day five? As we know, this is what my brain does at bedtime.

Slowly, a bundle of words emerged:

We never knew our way around this place, but we were content to navigate blindly, more like the lost leading the lost.  I tripped you up and helped you up, you tripped me up and helped me up. Love kept us going, or pride. Invested an effort in the wrong direction. We never knew our way.

Well, not that bundle of words. It was more like a destruction of words:

066

Yeah.

sms aka whatevertheyaint  11/17

Advertisements

Flash Fiction, Week One

The following exercise is inspired by a writing prompt from, Flash 52: 52 Writing Prompts for a Year of Writing by Jamie DeBree

Richard pours tea and we raise our cups in a celebratory manner. This is our quintet—well, sextet considering Richard. Basically, it’s a group of stressed out writers looking to profit more than gas money from words.

“How’s it going? Any new ideas, progress?” Richard asks.

Sheila’s hand shoots up first. “I don’t know how I did it,” she beams, “but this week,  I managed 50k in between the twins’ naps.”

Another hand goes up. 10K. 6K. More cheers and tea.

“Karen?”

That’s me; it’s my turn. I clutch my yellow notebook to my chest. The notepad is as blank as when I opened it to its first college-ruled page, two weeks ago. How would they know if I did 50K or zero? It isn’t as though we inspect each other’s drafts, at least not during the first part of the month.

“I’m still outlining,” I say, which is neither truth nor lie.

An uncomfortable silence ensues. And then a collective murmur of well, that’s a start.

Sheila’s eyes scan the group. “I’ve been hiding something,” she says.

Let me guess, she isn’t human? She hired a ghostwriter? She hasn’t typed one alphabet but instead fibbed to make herself feel better?

As if sensing my skepticism, she plops a copy of her manuscript onto the table and then retrieves a small, plastic bag from her purse.

Are those…poppy seeds? No, poppy seeds are smaller. And darker.

“Okay, I know certain things improve brain function, and that’s why we drink  tea and  meet twice a month and share our thoughts. But these babies,” she continues, grabbing a handful of the seeds and dropping them into a cup, “are like…bees to flowers, bubbles to baths, syrup to waffles. This is brain food!”

Within minutes of sipping from a teacup, she’s reciting passages of Spoon River Anthology.

“Amazing!” Richard says.

“I’ve retained four plays, three anthologies, every word of Ethan Frome and created my draft in two weeks—all with the help of these Z seeds.”

Suddenly, I’m reminded of a time I came home sporting a nose ring and red hair. Ma took one look and admonished, “If the entire class jumped off a bridge, would you do it, too?”

Would I?  Am I seriously considering Sheila’s claim?

I imagine four to five completed novels a year, a new car, a full-tank of gas instead of the fumes I’ve driven on the majority of the day. Surely similar thoughts are running through the other’s mind.

Would you be silly enough to do it, too?

And so it begins…

*

Shonte Sanders aka Whatevertheyaint

1/27/17

* I didn’t follow the premise to a fault, but I did keep the basics as far as setting and characters. The original prompt calls for a man in his thirties, a folding table in a huge parking lot, an electric kettle, a teapot and teacups, and five women approaching. Feel free to continue to add to this piece by sharing (300 words or less) in the comments section. Ready? Let’s Go! Have fun 🙂

From the Prompt: It’s You–But It Isn’t

pexels-photo-597331.jpeg

 

Finally! The kids are asleep and it’s time to wind down and see what’s going on in the  ScrapBooking for Dummies forum. I never sign out, because it’s easier that way. Plus, I’m forever losing passwords.

As the page loads and images take shape, I notice something that makes me uneasy. Either my eyes are playing tricks on me or, right there in a pop up, right in the middle of the screen, is my username in bold, red letters and a caption that reads:  You people couldn’t cut a perfect circle if your lives depended on it.

I glance at the date, 4/3/2015. The date is correct. And April Fool’s is long gone. So who would do this?  Everyone in the house is clonked out, including my husband. His loud, steady snoring permeates throughout the house. I can even hear my son’s light breathing in the adjacent bedroom. Did my son, Timmy, do this? Did he accidentally mash something? The idea is plausible. Although six years old, he’s more than capable of destroying everything he touches. If he weren’t sleeping so soundly, I’d interrogate him.

However, right-clicking and pressing delete seems like a viable option; so that’s what I do.  In less than two seconds I wish I hadn’t.  GlitterMama, you’re nothing but an over-privileged stay-at-home with nothing better to do than play with glue guns and fancy duct tape.

Oh. My. God.  Now someone is making fun of GlitterMama, aka Miss Nelly from Sunday school! Okay. I have to fix this, quickly.

Would you like to log out? Yes.

I unplug the computer and then reboot. The whole time I’m holding my breath, praying the webpage returns to normal.

There aren’t any pop-ups when the site reloads, and I let out a sigh of relief as I join a thread entitled: All You Need to Know about Digital Design.  Things are going fine–for a while. And then it starts again, this time in the comment section. WhateverTheFelt, I find your crafts mediocre and aesthetically challenged. Give it up, girl.

Surely there’s a contact page or moderator. Someone needs to know what is going on. As I search, I notice an About Us section. I hover over the link and nearly break my finger pressing enter. At this point, if I were that type, I’d show whoever was pranking around a different finger.

Sure enough, another pop-up: HAPPY LATE APRIL FOOL’S DAY. 

A gazillion smiley faces attack the screen as the monitor blinks off and on uncontrollably.  In no way do I find this funny. In fact, if this is the website’s idea of “fun”, I’ll show them who the fool is. This scrapbooker doesn’t need a stupid site to tell her how to digitally design an album, or anything else for that matter.

Would you like to deactivate your account?

Yes!