We shuffled past the display cases full of baked goods and reached the cashier waiting near the end. We handed her the bill and said, “Can we each pay half?”
“Sure,” she answered. The helper next to her reached for a calculator. “That’s okay,” she said, “I can do it in my head.” And she did.
It was unbelievable to see a young person do math in her head without the aid of a cash register to tell her what to think. Kids just don’t do that anymore.
Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “unbelievable.”
Two dragons stomped about in the gravel. Their footsteps made scratchy noises as they passed. Their long tails scraped and scoured, leaving a trail behind curvy as a snake’s path. From their nostrils came a roaring blast of fire, hot enough to melt the tar on which they trod. They spoke quietly in a secret language that I could hear but not understand.
Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “breathing fire.”
His stuffy nose made his important message sound ridiculous. The children laughed when they heard him talk. They only thought about how silly he sounded, not the weight of his words. He tried staring them down. THAT made them giggle even more. He searched for an idea to . . .
Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “stuffy.”
The outfit was out of style. It had languished in the closet for nearly 30 years. She pulled it off the rod and held it up. The elastic in the waist of the slacks crackled. Why was this still lurking in her life? She wadded it up and put it in the trash. An equally old outfit next to it went in the sack to donate. The too small raincoat went in the sack.
How long had it been since she’d gone through her closet? Since the beginning of time, apparently. She stared at the items still hanging there and swept them all up, dumped them all in the donate sack.
Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “the closet.”
She drank the coffee quickly. Then she waited. When the ice melted down a bit she drank the watery coffee flavored runoff – ahh. The ice melt was the best part. She sucked noisily on the straw, hoping for one more drop of weak coffee water. Frustrated, she took the lid off the cup and crunched into the coffee imbued chunks of ice.
The guy at the next table glared at . . .
Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “the ice.”
I have a special play list for my iPhone. It’s what I call car music or driving music. It’s mostly female voices doing a variety of styles in an upbeat way. No matter how many times I try to make my phone play only this play list, I hear Christmas songs. I can’t get rid of them! My phone keeps sending me secret messages about the Christmas spirit and I keep telling it to stop.
Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “play list.”
You have the big package of 250 channels plus HBO and Showtime, and you’re lucky if you have time to watch a couple hours of TV a day. You have maybe 12 favorite channels you actually watch out of the 250 that you purchased. That’s what Twitter is like. A lot of voices talking, but you only listen to a select few.
Check me out on Twitter @vdebolt to see if you want to listen to my voice. And leave your Twitter name in the comments if you’re out there talking yourself.
Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “twitter.”
Maria Elena, who potted the plants I keep here in this special window, is buried outside under the mesquite tree. If you stand here you can look through the window and see the tree. I like to imagine that Maria Elena is watching her plants grow. She would know that the crepe myrtle is blooming its blood red blossom for her.
She was precise. You can see that in the neat pattern of holes she made in the bottom of this coffee can. And this plant here – it sits on a plate her granddaughter made in kindergarten. It says “To Grandmother from Rosa Linda.”
When Rosa Linda comes to see me now, she comes here, to these plants, to this window, to see her grandmother. I, too, come here to this window. I bring my coffee in the morning and say hello to Maria Elena. She gets me going. She keeps me going. I miss her, but she is here, too, like she never left.
Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “Maria Elena.”
What ruins a man is a culture that teaches him he is a supreme being. He is lord of all, or at least of women. What ruins a man is a job that pays him more than a woman for doing only as much as she does. . . .
Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “what ruins a man.”
My secret place is beside a crystalline cave. There are flat, comfortable rocks near the mouth from which I can look at the ponderosas, the oaks, the stream dancing over its stony track. The sky is blue – dark clean blue with piles of bleached white cumulus clouds.
I’ll watch the sky tonight, Scorpio crabbing across the heavens, the Milky Way thick and bright. I’ll sleep while the owls and mice play out their game of survival. I’ll wake as the sun streams in through the cave entrance to light my crystal hideaway with a thousand lights.
Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “my secret place.”