Whew

In case you haven’t been looking, yzed and I have been playing writers’ ping pong with Sacrosanct. The story seems finished to me now, but these are fun to play and anyone can join in if another game of ping pong gets started.

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “whew.”

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Real Tears

Most real events in my life don’t move me to tears. But I’ll cry during Oprah or other TV shows. That seems so silly. A person should shed tears for real emotion, real tears for real things.

Feeling someone else’s emotions is so much easier than dealing with your own.

Need advice? I can tell you exactly what to do about your situation. But I can’t apply the same logic to my situation. I can point a finger at your foibles with great accuracy . . .

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “real tears.”

Pet Adoption

Donna answered the phone with, “I can’t talk right now. I’m in a cage with a feisty puppy at the pet adoption clinic. He refuses to come out and there are people who want to see him.”

Later, Donna returned my call and described the state of her puppy-chewed fingers. Despite the recalcitrant behavior of the puppy, it was . . .

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “pet adoption.”

Sacrosanct

The little niche between the garage and the hedge was private and sacrosanct. I was safe there.

New people moved in next door: their pesky little girl insisted on following me around the neighborhood, even though I refused to speak to her. She’d trail ten feet behind me, calling out stuff as if I cared. “Did you see Pirates of the Caribbean?” she’d say. “I thought it was gross, what did you think?”

I couldn’t sneak into my private spot with her watching me all the time. It was driving me nuts . . .

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “sacrosanct.”

Bluegreen

Most days she was bluegreen. A bit on the weak and watery side, and prone to spread herself thin and be distracted into the corners and cracks of life. On a bluegreen day, concentration was questionable and task completion slipped and slopped about like waves on the sand.

But, today, she was teal. She was solid and firm as a stone. Her edges were sharply defined and her intentions were saturated with a bright flash of . . .

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “bluegreen.”

Money back guarantee

. . . her forehead. Mandie looked so awful, there was no need to take any revenge. Stealing her prom date was worthy of revenge, Lanie fervently believed that to be true, but the pimple from hell was justice enough.

“You should invoke the money back guarantee on that pimple cream you use,” Lanie said, “cause it isn’t helping.” She grinned what she hoped was her most evil and sinister grin, and smirked away with the 3-in-1 oil still tucked away. . .

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “money back guarantee.”

Cold Sore

Lanie had a fresh can of 3-in-1 oil in her backpack. It came complete with a long red straw nozzle perfect for slipping between the locker vents. She was ready to spray oil over that bitch Mandie’s precious locker.

She got out of History by claiming her period just started and headed to Mandie’s locker. The halls were empty. Good. As she was digging out the oil, Mandie walked up. Lanie flinched in surprise, then thought, “ha!” The bitch had a pimple as big as a cold sore right in the middle of her forehead. Mandie . . .

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “cold sore.” A tip of the hat to Dr. Peg for the topic.

I Believe

Polar Express is coming soon, reminding us all to believe. Believe in Santa, the power of giving. Believe in God, the power of love. Believe in a power greater than ourselves.

We want to believe. Otherwise things are just too hard. There’s no hope for change without belief.

I believe in believing in yourself. Believe you can. Believe the person you want to be is inside waiting to . . .

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “I believe.”