A text came at 6 AM. It said “I’m ready.” Translated, that meant that she was up and when daylight came would be dressed and ready to walk. I texted back an “OK” and dragged out my walking shoes. I would go walk with her – make sure she got some exercise each day. Anything to keep her healthy.
Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “ready.”
First 50 Words - Prompts for Writing Practice 
Ruby’s always ready. You can tell by her tail, which is either up in the air behind her arched back, or thump, thump, thumping against the wall, chair, couch, my leg, a force of its own. Once she thumped so hard she sprained her tail. And that was before we even made it to the beach.
The weather is extremely hot. Sunny sky without a cloud in sight. Warm breeze. Cuban music playing. The pool is at 84 degrees. I’ve got sunscreen on. I’m wearing my sunglasses. I’ve got an ice cold beer in a mug. Am I ready to spend a wonderful day? YOU BET! Don’t call me, I’m not answering the phone today.
The alarm is set for four; I’m awake long before four; full consciousness comes to the fore and I’m ready. I try to re-enter the land of dreams, to no avail. 3 A.M. and I’m up and at ‘em, my most productive time; I’ll be ready for a nap at Three P.M.
“Ready of not, here I come!” shrieked Lucy from across the playground. Hands down, I had the best hiding spot. She was always complaining her last nanny was terrible at hide and seek, so I was not going to disappoint on our first day out! I could hear her little screeches of delight as she searched. She was getting so excited her screeches got longer, and longer, and then…. nothing. I couldn’t hear anything! I popped out from the tunnel slide – no Lucy. She was gone.
Miriam thought she was ready, but when the limousine transporting her and her father parked itself in front of the church, she asked the driver to go around the block a couple of times.
Her father looked at her quizzically. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Are you getting cold feet now?”
“I panicked when I saw the church, Pa. I was having trouble breathing and needed to pull myself together.”
“I understand, Miri,” he said taking her hands in his, “but I think you have nothing to worry about. You’re marrying a great guy. Believe me. I sized him up a long time ago, and he’s a keeper. Now—let me escort you to the church so that you can make your grand entrance. I’m sure you’ll wow your future husband!”
“We are all set, and where is papa?”
“He is paying the room bills.”
“Now that we are ready, can’t we go and sit in the taxi?”
“Not yet, let’s wait for papa.”
“Mamma, why do we always have to wait?”
“Because waiting is good for you, it makes you patient.”
I was beginning to see this exchange end in a full-blown argument, when my husband’s head emerged from the low-ceilinged doorway of the british-made , bungalow of the mess-office. I heaved a sigh of relief,and picked up the nearest strolley, ready to board.