Thursday, 16 July 2015

Writing Challeng #9

Source: Challenge from a Friend
Prompt: To use the 39 song lyric snippets she had posted and work them into a story... each of which I bold/italiced within the text of the story.


Little girl, little girl your life is calling! The words came from within, from a space so deep, so purposely darkened and they frightened her. Was it the truth of the words that scared her so? 'Make the fireflies dance and all will be well'... Her Gran had opened her to possibility with those words, countless times; yesterday morning had been the last as peace, honest and purest of peace had at last been granted her. Now, as she sat at her Gran's kitchen table, holding the teacup she used each time she visited and fiddling softly with the center doily, she begged all that she knew to hear them just one more time.
Instead, she heard a voice she wished she could ignore.
"Oh, Sweetheart, come on... come with me, let's get you tidied up a little before the rest of the family gets in."
"I am 'tidied', Mom."
"Okay, then let's just go splash a little cold water on your face. Tears are running, they're all running down your dress... and your friends, Baby, they treat you like a guest. Do you want people to remember you like this? We all need to be strong, it's what Gran would have wanted, don't you think?"
"Actually, I think Gran would want for us all to be truthful."
"Jessie..."
"What, Mom? What?? People are allowed to be sad sometimes, you know. Or do you know that? People were never meant to be emotionless robots! So what, if I'm crying! So what, if I feel like I'm empty and have nothing left! And so what, if Heaven forbid, someone might see me and feel slightly uncomfortable! Call me pathetic, call me what you will... but do NOT call on me to pretend, for your benefit, that everything is fine because nothing is fine and nothing will ever be fine again!"
"Honey," Jessie's mother allowed her voice to soften as she reached to gently stroke her daughters hair before she sat down in the chair next to her. "Honey, do you know what Gran's words were the very first second she saw you, all tiny and bundled just minutes minutes after you were born?"
Jessie could only manage a slight shake of her head as her lips trembled in trying to hold herself together.
"I remember lying there in that hospital bed, staring at you... this tiny bundle of hugeness that had me just absolutely frozen in terror. I was too terrified even to reach and touch you in case I somehow might have broken you. And then your Gran walked in. I'd never seen that look on her face before, so excited and relaxed and knowing all in this one look. She walked straight over to you and she reached to squeeze my hand as a tear rolled down her cheek. And then she picked you up, so easily. I remember wondering if I would ever be so confident because in only minutes of being a mother, your mother, I already felt so incompetent."
Jessie had constant tears rolling from her eyes as she listened and clung desperately to every word as she continued.
"I had expected her to move to the chair and sit with you... I had wanted her to. But she turned to me. She told me, 'She's a flower, I can paint her. She's a child of the sun." Then she lowered you into my petrified arms and she perched on the edge of the bed and she said, 'for the trees that we see can not forever breathe, with the changes we will confront'. I never really understood it but I always held onto it and now I think I might."
Jessie lifted her arm to wipe her tears back with her sleeve but stopped and took the tissue her mother offered instead... somehow fitting that it was a square of white, fluttering softly with the tremble of her fingers.
"Jess, I know you sometimes feel like I try to distance myself but Sweetie, I never mean to... I don't know why but it always seems I'm worse at what I do best, and for this gift I feel blessed. Sometimes I just find myself wanting to hold on so tight that I'm still afraid of breaking that tiny bundle I still see when I look at you. The line between holding you back and letting you grow is just a really hard one for me and I don't always know how to maneuver it. I don't want you to distance yourself from the pain. I don't want you to put on a happy face for show. All I want, is for you to stay that child of the sun that Gran loved so much."
Jessie reached for her mom then and for the first time she felt all of the hug that embraced her.


Eight months later...

That distance out there where the earth meets the sky, that's what she had her eye as she reached for the knob, turning the stereo louder and lost herself in the memories of song. Moving to the coast had been a decision of instinct and it had only been this moment when she knew, without doubt, the decision had been right. She had been frustrated and angry back home in Breckenridge and she didn't want to be that way any longer. There was no sense wasting wasting the time you got. You got to walk down every road. And, so she was, metaphorically anyhow. No more holding back, no painted facades for show, no broken... taped over to hide and as she pulled now into the small gravel driveway, she wondered how she had ever survived anywhere else. The smell of the ocean, the crashing of waves, the salty wind tickling her nose as she stepped out of the car and reached in to lift the grocery bags from behind the front seat. She heard him approach then and she turned to meet his smiling eyes unable to keep herself from grinning shyly like a nervous teenager and she was sure she had left those awful years far, far behind!
"Naked Saturday?"
"No Naked Saturday!" Jessie pushed the car door closed with her elbow.
"Come on, be a sport... it's too hot for clothes anyway; it'll be fun," he winked at her, "we have the whole ocean waiting right out front for us."
"Aaaaabsolutely not."
"Fine... have dinner with me instead." He reached to take the bags from her as she started toward the porch.
"When are you going to stop asking me out?"
"Probably never. Don't you know? I'm tied to your apron strings, and there's nothing that I can do or that I even want to do to change the fact. I'm already yours, just waiting on you to finally admit to it."
"I don't wear aprons, Clay."
"It was a reference."
"To what? A book on how to ask for a maidens hand in 1826??"
"Okay, so maybe not my best moment of reference but I was serious in a much deeper way, Jessie. Be real with me. Why won't you give me a chance?"
Jessie let out a soft sigh as she turned the key in the door lock then held the door for him as he carried the bags through. "Thanks," she said as she moved to help him set the heavy bags atop the counter.
Clay just nodded in response. He turned then to leave, "Remember, I'm just next door... y'know, for when you finally change your mind."
"I already have plans for dinner..."
"I was talking about Naked Saturday." And with another twinkle-filled, flashing wink he was gone.


"Sorry, Jess... Always a day late, a buck short. Man, I so have to get my shit together!"
Jessie couldn't help but smile as she looked up to see the ever-frazzled face of her friend and business partner, Laine, as she burst through the shop door with the force of a hurricane mixed with life in the sunshine and moved to help her with the armload of fabrics she had obviously underestimated.
"Here, let me help you... you're stumbling a little... Geez, what'd you have in your coffee this morning?" Jessie asked with a giggle.
"Yeah... funny. Here, this is the one causing all the upset," Laine nodded to the wobbling orange bolt about to make it's drop. "I picked them up from Post on my way home last night; look at this one," she reached to pluck the speckled purple from the midst of the messily deposited pile, "it'll be perfect for your new peplum vest design!"
"It is perfect! I Was worried about the drape when I ordered it but it really is... perfect! Come one, let's get these sorted so we can get to the fun part of actually bringing designs to life!"

Sitting quietly on the hard park bench overlooking the busy boardwalk and sipping her afternoon-break tea, Jessie couldn't help but wonder of the rush that played out before her day and day again. She realized, maybe for the first time, that there's a rhythm in rush these days, where the lights don't move and the colours don't fade. Leaves you empty with nothing but dreams in a world gone shallow, in a world gone lean. Watching the people burst by, never glancing up from their cell screens, she thought of a passage she'd read just that morning. 'In this time when our planet it is gettin' too warm give thanks, give a smile and take a look 'round. We're of this earth and of this earth we can be so proud.'
"I ask you now: What does this mean? Are all these problems just in my mind? Are they even problems, at all? Or is it just that we're not present enough in this reality. How many of us really do give thanks?" she had unknowingly whispered these words aloud and was startled when an answer actually found her ears.
"Actually, I think most do, even if they don't always even realize they're doing it."
"OH..." Jessie jumped slightly in her surprise as she turned to see a slightly older man with eyes of complete warmth and kindness shining down on her.
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to startle you."
"No, that's okay! I um, I guess I didn't realize I actually said that out loud," Jessie glanced down in her embarrassment.
The man motioned to the empty bench space beside her, "Would you mind if I join you?"
"Of course not... please do..."
Together they sat in comfortable silence for a few moments.
Finally, Jessie turned to look at him. "What did you mean by that?" she asked. "When you said people give thanks without realizing."
He smiled then and the warmth of his gaze comforted her in ways she hadn't even known she'd been in need of.
"I just meant that thankful comes in many forms. Some thank out loud with words and some thank out loud with actions. Even just the slightest sigh of relief is an offering of thanks though the one who sighs might not even be aware of their own soft offer of thanks."
Jessie nodded.
"Sometimes even just good old fashioned recognition is thanks enough. I mean I recognize my health, things that I've been dealt, places that I've roamed, feelings I've had, things that I know... and really, even just in the simple act of recognizing, truly recognizing all of it, I'm already offering thanks."
"I think you might just be right... Guess I just wasn't looking in at quite the right angle."
"Go easy on yourself, Girl," he winked knowingly at her, "I've had a few more years of watchin'n'figurin' than you have." He liked that his words and wink had brought such smile to her face. "You know, someone once said... 'If you drive a car, I'll tax the street. If you try to sit, I'll tax your seat. If you get too cold, I'll tax the heat. If you take a walk, I'll tax your feet.' He watched her mind working and smiled softly at her reply.
"But I'm thankful anyway. Thankful to have a safe and reliable car. Thankful to have safe and comfortable places to sit. Thankful for the ability to turn on the heat... or the cool when needed. Thankful for a healthy body with the strength to walk, even on those days I might think I'd prefer just to lay and disappear."
He nodded at her before leaning back to rest his arm easily over and across the back of the bench, lessening the open space between them.
Jessie turned to glance over the bustling boardwalk once more, hoping to spy just one person in the moment rather than in their phone and asked him, "Do you think it'll ever slow down? Life, I mean?"
She waited but he didn't answer. She was afraid to turn but she did turn... and she was alone again. She turned and looked all around for any sign of him but she found none. He had disappeared as quickly as he had appeared to her and although she had not the slightest of explanation, she somehow left that bench knowing she now had all the explanation she would ever actually need, and more. Her heart had lifted in his presence just as it had so brutally sunk in his leaving. She felt the burning tears threatening to fall in his absence but instead, she stood and turned back toward the shop in gratefulness that she'd shared time with him at all. 

"Are you feeling like a social tool without a use?"
"What? No." Jessie looked quizzically over to Laine as she leaned forward to theatrically collapse across the cutting table.
"Are you? And also... what the heck are you talking about?"
"I don't know, I think it's just been a really long day. What do you say we skedaddle on out of here and mosey on down along the beach?"
"It's only three-thirty."
"So tell me, who makes the rules? Who decides what happens in this shop?" She paused. "Hmm? Well?"
"We do."
"Exactly! So c'mon, let's ditch early."
Jessie shook her head, "Nah, you go ahead; I'm kinda in-the-zone with this one, I just want to get a little more done," she smiled and turned her focus back to the waiting dress form, pins at the ready as she set to bringing her vision to reality.
Laine let out a long sigh... "Fine!!! Guess I'll just get some more work done too, then! Seriously, why do you have to be such a sickeningly good influence?!!" She set her scissors down and moved over to take hold of the flap of fabric Jessie had been trying to hold as well as pin. "Okay, I consider this 'working'... now tell me, what's happening with Clay these days?"
"Nothing is happening with Clay. He's my neighbour and my friend and that's all."
"Yeah, your GORGEOUS neighbour, your even GORGEOUSER friend and he's entirely in love with you!"
Jessie rolled her eyes and continued pinning, "Gorgeouser? That's not even a word."
"Whatever. But seriously, Jess, why won't you even give him a chance? Do you really want to be alone for your whole life?"
"I'm not alone."
"Having friends is great but keeping yourself from what could be so much more... well, I just don't think it's healthy. Look at you, you're beautiful and smart and you're just full of so much more than you even realize. I just wish you could see what the rest of us see, Jess."
Jessie looked at Laine as she reached out to take the shoulder flap from her. "Look," she finally said, "it isn't that I purposely keep myself from anything, it's just that I... I don't know, I just always feel so awkward around him. I trip over my words, I drop things, I bump into things... I'm just not good at that kind of stuff."
"So, you do like him!"
"Didn't you want to leave early, or something?" Though she tried, she couldn't hide the heated blushing that crept over her.
"Fine, I'll drop it... for now. I'm gonna run and get us some coffee since it looks like we're in for another long day." She turned and reached to pull her purse from behind the main desk before starting toward the door. "Oh shoot!" she said as the rigid courier envelope caught on her purse strap and fell to the floor. She bent to retrieve it and held it out to Jessie on her way past, "I completely forgot! This came for you while you were outside earlier."
Jessie reached out, a little tentatively, for the envelope, "Thanks."
"M-hm... I'll be back in a few."

Jessie moved to sit behind the desk upon seeing her mothers handwriting. She quickly set the envelope down and started to stand before stopping herself. She sat and stared at the bright, glossy white as it shone in the overhead fluorescents, willing herself to pull it closer. Slowly, she lifted and pulled the cardboard zipper to find the flat white envelope tucked within, stuck to it was a bright green sticky note that read 'Gran had written this for you... Found it while closing up the house yesterday. Call me when you can. Love, Mom.' Her eyes began to fill as her shaking fingers fought to gently open the seal and pull the crisp sheet filled with her Gran's handwritten love.

Dear Jessie,

Well I'm packing my things in my bag today and I'm not so certain that I'll ever have chance to un-pack them. I know exactly what you would have said to me if I were to have spoken the words before you left after our tea this afternoon, which is the very reason I am choosing instead to write them. Sometimes we just know things, Child, and I know that it's time for our goodbye.
I know how you hate goodbyes. Goodbyes are never easy and I hope you'll know how I wish I could soften the hurt for you, how I wish I could stay and save you the pain that I already feel in having to leave you behind for awhile. But my greatest wish is only that you will finally let yourself find the joy that you were meant for. I want for you never to dwell on the goodbyes you have lived your life so afraid of, even in the first hellos. I wish for you to live and love and open yourself to the world that waits... for you. With your feet on the air and your head on the ground, try this trick and spin it, yeah, because somersaults are always the way to know. Whether it's your heart, your mind or your soul asking the question, you only need to feel the tumbling, good or bad, to be sure of what's right. Try not to worry so much about what might happen and let yourself enjoy what can be.
I remember when you were little and I would pick you up every Saturday morning to go for breakfast and then to play at the park. I especially remember the year you were seven and were so fascinated with those old Supremes records we found in the attic when you helped me finally let go of Grampa's things. I don't know if I would have found my way out of that darkness without you bursting unexpectedly into every room singing 'she said love don't come easy, it's a game of give and take...' at the top of your lungs and dancing your heart out just to make me smile; I can still hear you as though it were just yesterday. Keep singing it, Sweetheart, because as long as there'll be music, we'll be comin' back again. Keep singing the song that you kept my broken heart full with so yours can fill again. And for Heaven's sake, Child, open that full heart and let somebody in! Let somebody know you because when somebody knows you well, well there's no comfort like that.

All my love,

Gran

Jessie wiped back her tears with her shirtsleeve and was tucking the note inside her purse just as Laine returned. "Come on," she said as she reached for her friends arm, turning her back toward the door, "coffee on a windy beach sounds perfect right about now!"


These nights never seem to go to plan, Jessie thought to herself as she leaned back against the outside of her car... after accidentally locking her keys inside of it. Honestly, God, I ask you now: What does this mean? Are all these problems just in my mind? Do I really make life this hard on myself?? I think I might need a little help here... I'm counting sheep but running out and I don't know how to even begin finding the ones I've lost. "I'm serious here," she said aloud in her sudden frustration, "anything??"
"Need a lift?"
It was Joe, the man that owned the sporting goods storefront next door to her and Laine who had snapped her from her self-annoyed thoughts.
"Oh, thanks Joe, but I'm okay, I just called a locksmith," she held out her cell before setting it atop the car hood beside her.
"Okay. I'll just wait with you, then." He moved to lean easily back against the car with her.
"You don't have to wait with me, I'll be fine."
"Yes, you will be," he replied gently.
Jessie smiled up at him then and finally felt at complete ease as together they chatted easily in their wait.


The setting sunlight streamed in through the kitchen windows tinting all it touched in softened tones of comforting golds and reds. Rinsing out her coffee cup, Jessie realized, for maybe the first time, that she was tired. She was tired of pushing, tired of fighting to stay alone. She knew exactly the reason she kept anyone she might actually grow to care about from getting too close and she also knew her reason was ridiculous. Still, she kept on pushing. So many years of self-sentenced fear had become a reality that she just didn't want to have to admit. But maybe it was time to do just that. She glanced out the window to see Clay as he lounged easily on the beach, watching out over water tinged purple in the darkening. She dried her hands and pushed again, only this time, she was pushing herself forward.

Jessie loved the feel of the sand filling in between her bare toes as she buried and unburied her feet in the softness.
Clay has felt, more than heard her approach and his own heart lifted in her closeness
"Do you ever feel like you did everything wrong, Clay?"
He turned to Jessie as she lowered herself to sit beside him on the sand and watched as her eyes glazed over in thoughts he couldn't reach. He wanted to ask, he wanted to know but all he did know, for sure, was that if he spoke, she would stop.
"Sometimes it all just feels wrong, like I've made nothing but mistakes. And all my friends have settled down, become their mothers and their fathers without a sound... except for Cathy. She bought a one-way subway ticket and left us all behind." She reached to brush away the soft tears that had pooled and begun to overflow her eyes. "She was so sure, you know? She just... had that thing, that knowing. She just had it all figured out. No fear, no hesitation, she just knew. She knew... and then she did."
Jessie paused, focused for a moment on the heavy waves crashing purposefully onto the shore before obediently receding back. 
Clay watched close her struggle as she freed herself to him. He lay open palmed to her world and invitation, at last, had been opened to him in return.
"Cathy didn't have the easiest time in school, or at home. She was smart, though, and she was the best friend I ever knew. She gave the commencement address at our graduation ceremony... I remember every word she said: 'We've been gifted this day and in it, we need to breathe. But how does that feel? How does it feel like, to breathe with everything? We've spent so many years here in this school together. I have felt, and I know we all, at times, have felt so deeply buried that breathing seemed impossible. But we didn't stop. I didn't stop. I will not stop. I won't be made useless, won't be idle with despair. I wish for all of you to know that you deserve the world that waits for us. Let's all go out and experience and  I mean REALLY experience everything that this life can offer us. Let's run together into the new world that awaits screaming HERE WE ARE NOW, ENTERTAIN USWe've been gifted this day and I, for one, I'll hold on to this gift we share, it is as slippery as it is rare and I will refuse to let it slip. Don't give up on any dream and promise yourself that you'll stay true, that you'll never let anyone dull your shine because if you never try you'll never know just what you're worth. So I urge you to stay you, that's the toughest thing to do... We've been gifted this day.'"
She turned to look at him then and somewhere in the warmth of his eyes was the truth she had been searching for.
"We were in for the biggest changes of our lives back then but it still seemed all somehow, just so easy. So, do you ever wish you could could go back and do things right, Clay?"
"I don't know," he shrugged his shoulders as he reached for her hand, winding his fingers gently between hers. "I think some things you can't go back to 'cause you let them slip away... but I also don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. Still, it's hard, hard to see fragile lives, shattered dreams, promise without resolve."
It was her turn then, to watch his eyes glaze in thought and she realized just how much she had already missed. The soft-setting sun danced, flickering through his watch as he slowly focused solely into her own. And then she stood and reaching her hand outward, urged him to follow.
"Come with me. Let's go out and feel the night..."

Wednesday, 21 January 2015

Writing Challenge #8

Source: Writing Fix
Prompt: Her cheerfulness was like the jungle.

  Her cheerfulness was like the jungle, crazy, wild and confusing even in it's stunning beauty filled with nothing but well-means. Her beaming smile, so out of place in the rapidly setting darkness, calmed me. She didn't speak a word, still, I understood everything she said and relaxed into the promise that she wouldn't leave me.
  The fear, the pain, the panic... it had all ceased in the instant she took my hand into her own. I knew I was shivering in the snow-filled ditch but I felt only warmth. I knew the hard, jagged ice chunks were cutting into my skin but I felt only softness cradle my body. I knew I was drifting out of consciousness but I felt only alive and alert to a point of that even beyond exhilaration. 
  I saw the lights, then. I heard the approaching tires slow and then stop. I felt the breeze of his rushing past us to get to... me.
  I turned to her in question.
  She squeezed my hand in a knowingness I already trusted and together we began to walk.

Tuesday, 20 January 2015

Writing Challenge #7

Source: Writing Prompts App
Prompt: Write a short dialogue between two pieces of fruit.

BananaMan: Dude! Where have you been hiding? I've been lookin' everywhere for you!
PlumBob: Sorry, Man... I been feeling the 'pits' lately.
BananaMan: hahaha... Good one, Bobby!
PlumBob: No, I meant it seriously. We're totally in-season and it sucks! Literally!! I don't know how I made it this long. All I do know is, there I was, just sittin' on top of the bowl, life was good, the little lady was happy, the kids were happy and then BOOM... everyone was rolling for cover!
BananaMan: Holy crap! What was it? What happened??
PlumBob: I don't know! I guess I rolled so hard and far that I ended up in the wrong bowl 'cause it DEFINITELY wasn't the fruit bowl! ... That's when it started raining pits.....
BananaMan: It really RAINED pits?? Dude... so NOT cool!
PlumBob: I know, BananaMan... I know. They just kept coming, too. I heard something about a 'jam' but it wasn't like any music I ever heard!
BananaMan: Whooooaaaah...
PlumBob: Yeah. 
BananaMan: So, I guess now you're the last of your kind, huh?
PlumBob: I think so...
BananaMan: Well, you still got me, Bobby!
PlumBob: Thanks, Man... Man? Where'd you go, Man?? ..... Man!!! ....... NOOOOOOOOOO.... BANANAMAAANNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, 19 January 2015

Writing Challenge #6

Source: Finding the Write Idea
Prompt: Blood gushed from the wound at an alarming rate.

  Blood gushed from the wound at an alarming rate even as Nate clamped his large, calloused hands around her upper arm in effort to stop the flow. Within seconds, Garrett was at his side and frantically crafting a makeshift pressure bandage out of his t-shirt.
  "I've got it," Nate said as he worked the bandage into place and continued his strong hold, "she must have hit her head, check to see if she's bleeding from underneath!" 
  The instant his hands touched her skin the cold shot through him."She's freezing! She's losing too much blood! TARA, CALL AN AMBULANCE!!!" Garrett shouted out to Tara who was almost to them but turned immediately upon hearing his words.
  "I already called, they're on the line!" She held up her cell phone as she ran back to her horse pulling at the cinch buckles through her white-hot panic. She threw the saddle to the ground and tore off running with the saddle blanket. Terrified tears streamed as she knelt to cover her best friend in hopes of warming her. She pushed the phone at Garrett as she took Nate's shirt to cushion Abby's head. "I told them we're still on the old road..." she started but was quickly overtaken by worried sobs.
  "She's gonna be okay, Tar..." Nate promised her, "but, you need to get the horses over to the tree line in case they have to send the air ambulance!"
  "No, I'm staying!"
  "I wasn't asking," he lowered his voice. "Take the horses so they'll be safe and stay with them... keep them calm."
  "I don't know where Rufus and Moon went, they both bolted when Moon spooked!"
  "I know, we'll find them... but you need to see to Charm and Sugar so they don't run off, too."
  Tara knew he was right and with a quick glance to Garrett and a slight squeeze to Abby's icy fingers she was hurrying back to where the two horses stood waiting uneasily. She took hold of both halter and started them walking toward the forest cover, talking gently in an attempt to calm them all, herself included.
  "Where are they??" Nate pleaded of his brother.
  "They should be here any minute..." the heavy sound of blades slicing through air cut Garrett off as both men immediately leaned in to shield Abby from the force of the approaching helicopter. In mere seconds the paramedics, carrying the field gurney, were rushing over to them from where they'd set down.
  "Her horse spooked... she broke her arm in the fall... the bone is through the skin..... blood... she's lost so much blood!" Nate was shaking at the thought of letting go but he knew he had to let them take over as he moved back to let them in. The paramedics quickly assessed and then lunged into action. Abby was turned onto the gurney, strapped in and whisked away to the waiting helicopter before Nate could even comprehend what was happening. He followed closely, never letting her from his sight.
  "I'm going with her!"
  "You can't,  we need room to work! We're taking her to Cranton General." The man leaned down to click the gurney into place. "Get her next of kin to the hospital right away!"
  "I'm her husband! PLEASE... don't let her go....."
  

  

  

Friday, 16 January 2015

Writing Challenge #5

Source: Prompt Writer
Prompt: I met Court down by Rayborne's swimming hole. He splashed me on purpose and I got mad at him on purpose. He laughed, I flipped my wet hair and swam away. I didn't think he would...

  I met Court down by Rayborne's swimming hole. He splashed me on purpose and I got mad at him on purpose. He laughed, I flipped my wet hair and swam away. I didn't think he would recognize me after so many years, but he did.
  "I remember you," his eyes flashed playfully in the hot flickering of the bonfire,  "you're the one that swam away....."
  "Did you blame me?"
  "No," he answered me easily, "but I looked for you." 

Thursday, 15 January 2015

Writing Challenge #4

Source: Creative Writing Help
Prompt: The cave was deep and seemed to go on forever. Lucy looked at her friends reluctantly. She wasn't sure she wanted to go any further. She stood at the opening of the dark entrance undecided.

  The cave was deep and seemed to go on forever. Lucy looked at her friends reluctantly. She wasn't sure she wanted to go any further. She stood at the opening of the dark entrance undecided, but only for a moment.It was Kevin who snapped her out of her fear. All it had taken was his reassuring hands having come to rest upon her shoulders and and the look of confidence flashing from his eyes directly into hers.
  "We have to do this, Luc... for Eric."
  "I know."
  And she did know. But the thought of going back into that cave had started a terror coursing through Lucy that she just couldn't seem to shake. Her mind shot back to the first time the three of them had stood there together, only that time they had been three of five. Kevin gave her shoulders a sharp snap to force her from the memory as he watched it begin to take her over.
  "Come on... We have to go NOW!"
  She shrugged her pack, repositioning it over her shoulders and slowly started forward into the darkness, meeting Cliff's worried gaze with promise. The dim headlamps all three wore offered little help in the darkness but a little help was all they needed having left a trail of wall markings on their way out the day before; L's scratched into the walls would lead them through the incredible confusion of tunnels to the one that still held Ellie.
  The whole trip had been Ellie's brainstorm. Having just graduated from college, it was to be their 'school finale of FUNNN!!!' she'd promised. The group of five had been inseparable since junior year swim team tryouts; Lucy the shy, Kevin the bold, Cliff the charmer, Eric the brain and Ellie... the heart. Eric and Ellie had started dating around the end of first year had spent the last year fitting wedding plans in between study plans, but this was to be one weekend, for all of them, filled with nothing but adventure. Ellie had wanted to do a cave dive forever but talking the rest if the gang into it hadn't been easy. Once she had, they had poured over books and videos and taken a safety course as an upgrade to their existing dive certificates. Lucy had been the least experienced diver of the group and here now, in the depths of the cave she almost felt guilty as they would their way back to the tiny opening in wait.
  "I'll go first," Cliff whispered in a rush as he took of his pack and handed it, along with the crowbar to Kevin, "pass the packs through before you follow."
  It was eerily quiet as the three began dressing for the water. Lucy couldn't keep her eyes from the line set tied around the large flat rock where she and Ellie had sat prepping just hours before, both had been enthralled in anticipation. Cliff watched her closely and moved to block her view as he saw her eyes beginning to flood with memory.
  It had taken all three of them to get Eric out of that cave, his leg having been shattered by the massive underwater boulder that had tipped when Ellie had caught the rope on it. It had caught Eric first, smashing his leg between its force and the wall of the underwater cavern they'd found just four hundred yards, or so, into the system of sea tunnels. Ellie had started for Eric in a panic when she saw the blood darkening the water around him and in doing so, had swum herself right into the crease where the boulder would come to rest.
  Lucy had witnessed it all, as had Cliff who followed her but Kevin had been in the lead and was still moving forward. Cliff had motioned Lucy to go after Kev as he started for Eric having slipped his mask in his terror and pain. Lucy had finally reached Ellie, she was frantically pushing at the rock that had her pinned but her eyes were somehow entirely calm; it was Lucy who was starting to panic. She looked up to see the last fin disappear through the tiny opening, a trail of lingering blood and terror began to cover her as she tore her fingers in a rush to loosen that damned boulder.
  It felt like days had passed but was in fact only minutes before Cliff was pulling Lucy away from Ellie and motioning her toward the surface. Lucy shook her head no, but he pushed he roughly away and demanded she go. The instant she had surfaced, Kevin was on his way back in.
  "Try and stop the bleeding, use whatever you can... we'll get her out....."
  Eric was unconscious, he'd put up a huge fight in leaving Ellie so whether one of the boys had knocked him out or he'd just lost too much air she couldn't say, but he was alive. 
  She had wanted to go back down but she knew she had to stay with Eric. He'd lost so much blood and was groaning in pain as he started to waken. His teeth set to chattering as the cold set into him. He tried to ask but couldn't.
  "They're still down there, they won't give up on her... her tank was damaged in the hit but Kev took mine back down for her."
  Eric had nodded and Lucy had continued to pray as she held him close in effort to warm him. He had slipped back into unconsciousness before Cliff and Kevin had surfaced only twenty minutes after she'd come up herself. She'd waited, she'd waited frozen in her fear but Ellie... Ellie hadn't surfaced.

Wednesday, 14 January 2015

Writing Challenge #3

Source: Practical Creative Writing
Prompt: His eyes were brown with a tiny fleck of gold at the edge.

  His eyes were brown with a tiny fleck of gold at the edge that belied his stoic expression as it sparked. He'd seen her there before, countless times, even spoken to her once or twice when they'd crossed paths around the arena. Always having been rugged and outgoing did him no favours in her presence, when it came to her he couldn't start an actual conversation to save his life. The instant he locked eyes on her his insides set to trembling, every single time.
  He slipped his worn work gloves off and leaned forward to lean atop the the rink boards just in time to see her skate out with a few of her team mates to warm up. Even weighed down in all her hockey gear he could see the effortless grace of her movements as she skated so strong and surely over the ice. It was only a moment or so before she began her ritual of suicide-drills, once up the ice and once agian back down. Her routine since childhood, he knew because he'd watched her do it even then. He allowed himself only a moment to watch before forcing himself back to his tasks.
  Clay had grown up in this rink and had come home to take it over after his dad had died three years ago, only two months following his moms death. He'd been living in Chicago, putting his aeronautical engineering degree to good use but coming home to help his sister close both house and shop brought him to the realization that he was actually there to stay. Marcy still lived in their hometown of Burlington with her husband and their two daughters, the only family he had left. It was then he had seen that Vermont was home but without what he knew and loved, letting it all go would mean that he would never really come home again.
   But he had come home. He'd made some updates to the tiny arena he now owned and ran and business had not only lifted but sat at a healthy bustle, complete with wait-lists for ice times. For the past few months he'd been working, in his free time, on renovating the dated house he'd grown up in and going back and forth between work at the rink to work on the house was wearing him down. That was, until he saw her again.
  He hadn't recognized her at first but late one night, as the last team of the day took to the ice for their practice, he did. The women's hockey team had talked him into staying open for them an hour later than usual, twice a week. Having been ousted from their usual rink they were in desperate need of ice time and he knew his father would haunt him relentlessly if he were to turn them down. And so he agreed. On that first night they had scrimmaged there he'd been passing by the far end of the rink, on the way to the boiler room, when reality threw him back into memory and stopped him cold. Most of the women had been stretching, a few had been skating easy laps to get a feel for the ice but it was the woman in the center of the ice who had captured his full attention. He'd felt his heart lurch in his chest as he'd watched her skate furious suicides from one end of the rink to the other and then back again to where she'd begun from. He had stood there and watched until she had finished before joining the rest of her team convening to start their scrimmage. That was the moment when for Clay, recognition had turned into hope.
  It had taken all he had to pull himself away that night, and every other that followed. Now, while he worked to close for the night, Clay let his mind drift back to the days when he would rush to get out of his own hockey gear just so he'd be able to watch her on the ice. Back then she'd been only one of two girls in the league but as good as any of the boys who had constantly tormented her, maybe even better. From what he'd seen of her in the past months, she hadn't missed a beat. He couln't count the times he'd wanted to talk to her growing up but he'd been three years ahead of her in school and three years in teenage years, well, he never did work up the courage.
  Tonight would be different. Tonight he was determined not to chicken-out; he would find a way to talk to her and he would finally ask her out on the date he'd been waiting most of his life for. She always said hello to him and a few times he'd even caught her looking at him as he passed by before she would quickly turn away. Each time he'd cuaght her glance it had raised his hopes along with the beat of his heart and the tell-tale spark of gold in his snapping dark eyes.
  He listened from the sharpening room, as he tidied and closed up for the night, until he heard just the sound of slight cool-down skating mixed with chatter and laughter. In a minute or two they would be on their way to the locker room.
  He waited ten minutes before turning out the concession lights to make his way back down to prep for the final flood of the day. Perfect timing. She had just emerged from the locker room with one of her friends, laughing, rosy-cheeked and so far beyond beautiful. And then she looked at him and that smile, for that moment, was all his.
  "Hi!" She greeted him easily.
  "Hi," he answered her. "Good practice?"
  "Great practice, thanks!" Her eyes shone up at him. "Sorry you have to stay later for us," she shrugged her shoulders slightly, "but we all really appreciate that you do."
  "I'm happy to do it." And he was.
  This was his chance, this was his time. He had so much he had to tell her, to share with her, to offer her. Everything he was, he wanted to give to her. All he had to do was ask her.
  "Well, goodnight," she said and glanced shyly away before she started toward the door with her friend.
  He nodded, "Goodnight..."

Writing Challenge #2

Source: The Working Writer's Club
Prompt: It was another dark, dreary day in the city. Kelly pulled on a sweater and looked out the window.

  It was another dark, dreary day in the city. Kelly pulled on a sweater and looked out the window. The sidewalk was already filled with franticness. She watched for a moment as people darted in and out of one anothers way, just trying to reach their destinations somewhat intact despite the driving pellets of icy rain. "Amateurs..." she said aloud as she witnessed two umbrellas knock then hook in a havoc-inducing style that would likely ruin the whole day of both parties. The key to surviving rain in a bustling city was the longest rain slicker with the most gigantic hood possible; stay dry, stay maneuverable, ignore the open stares and snickerings. She'd learned quickly to keep herself compact and in survival mode to be able to navigate those sidewalks, in all kinds of weathered situations but as she stood at the window watching she wondered, just what had those pathways had done to her.
She had just called, two complete strangers 'amateurs' and she had done it out loud! She had just judged two people she'd never before met. What did that say about her? Had living in the city made her so hardened that she would come to judgement before empathy?
  Kelly let the curtain sheer drop softly from her fingers before turning toward the kitchen. She set the coffee pot to brewing and moved to sit down at the table as she did every morning before reaching out for her guitar. Her mind began to drift as her music took over. So much rejection had made a definite effect on her but she suddenly realized that it hadn't been anywhere close to the effect she had once planned on.
  Everyone at home had warned her that the city would be tough. She had the talent, they'd said, but was just too soft-hearted to be able to survive. Survive she had, though, even thrived as she'd worked to push her dreams into reality. Jingle Kells, she'd been dubbed by industry bigwigs when the commercial jingles she wrote had placed her in the highest of demand. Her jingles had catapulted her into writing scores for television and even movies though the theatre was her greatest sense of accomplishment, having been her true dream all along.
  Now, as she sat gently plucking away on the old guitar that had seen her through every up and every down, she realized; she hadn't protected her soft heart in persuit of her musical career but instead had completely buried it. These moments, the moments before the hectic, were her true moments. The smell of hot coffee, the cool top of the kitchen table holding scorepad and pen at the ready with her most cherished companion cradled in her arms and bringing the songs of her soul out into being.
  The morning was still early. Later there would be meetings and rehearsals, hours spent at the piano, she would be rushing just to keep up. Knowing what was ahead for the day made this time alone even sweeter. But, how sweet was it really? She had just realized that her greatest achievments had actually, in true fact, been her greatest downfalls. Sure, she kept her heart open to the music and to sharing her creations but, she'd closed her own being of creation to the world. She kept her focus on where she was going instead of enjoying how it was that she had arrived. She'd let getting caught up in her own umbrella tangle keep her from possibilities that might have been but would never be known.
  Just over an hour later, as she tore the pages of notes from the pad and downed her last sip of coffee, Kelly was already rushing to keep up. She hurriedly wound a long scarf round her neck to ward off the waiting chill and stumbled slightly in pulling her rain slicker from the closet before turning for the door. But then she turned back. She rehung the slicker and reached instead for her cozy, flannel-lined denim before digging even deeper into the closet only to re-emerge with a dusty old umbrella.

Tuesday, 13 January 2015

Writing Challenge #1

Source: Creative Writing Prompts
Prompt: Write about a man who got stood up on a date.

  Pulling into the drive was a relief. The nervousness he'd begun the evening with had turned quickly to self-doubt and then to concern followed by embarrassment, annoyance, even a touch of anger. But now, he was home and again relaxing into the familiar.
  The memories were thick, heavy as he walked easily up the old, worn-in porch steps before turning to lean against the entry post, grateful for the solidity of the wood against his shoulder as he gazed out across the forested mountain backed fields. It was deep into the Fall and cold but all he saw and felt was the heat of summer as he walked with her through the sunlit greenery to the tiny hidden pond just beyond the treeline. He could hear her laughter, could feel the giggle-quakes rushing through her as he wrapped his arm even tighter about her shoulders. How he wished he could remember what he'd said to make her laugh that time.
  Almost two years had passed but her still wasn't sure he was ready to try again, to start over with someone new, someone who could never be her. Why he had finally agreed to this blind date set up by the wife of his best friend, he hadn't a clue but it was a mistake he would be certain to not make again. Dating, blindly or otherwise, just obviously was not for him. The woman he'd been supposed to meet had actually done him a kindness by standing him up. She had shown him that the world and all the people in it were as cold and as ruthless as he'd come to believe through the pain of his heart so shattered.
  The telephone was ringing, he could hear it from where he stood but he wasn't ready to go inside and instead moved to the far end of the porch, easing his long, defeated body down into the old wicker swing. How many hours had they spent there together? How many dreams and plans had they shared?
  It wasn't until the sun had entirely set that he finally pulled himself up out of that old swing and started inside. He was turning the key in the lock when the phone started, yet again, to ring. He considered just getting back into his truck and driving as far and as fast as he could, but he didn't. He didn't want to answer the call or the questions he knew his best friend would rattle off at him and he definitely didn't want the pity that was sure to follow his answers. He didn't want to answer the call, but he did answer.
  "Hello?"
  "Hi..." the voice was timid mixed with, was it hopefulness? "Is, um... is this Shaun?"
  "It is."
  "Oh, good, I tried a few times but was starting to worry I might have the wrong number! It's Marley, Marley Jacobson... Mel and Joe's friend..."
  "Oh, hi... Sorry I missed your calls, I was outside, guess I didn't hear the phone," he lied. His rejection was still fresh but the nervousness he heard in her voice gentled his mood.
  "Well, uh, I just wanted to call and check whether you're still good to meet for dinner tomorrow."
  "Tomorrow?"
  "I'm sorry, weren't we supposed to meet on Friday? Did I get the date mixed up?"
  "What? Date mixed..." he frantically glanced over to the wall calendar and then down to his watch before taking in a long, deep breath of self-exasperation. "No, you didn't, but I think I sure did."
  "Ohhh, okay, do you... need to reschedule? Or..."
  He could hear her disappointment as her voice trailed softly off and his spirit actually felt a little lighter at the 'out' she had just offered him but suddenly, the lighter side didn't look quite as inviting. Tonights mistake, his own mistake, had somehow shown him how open his heart had tried to be, despite his mindset.
  "No, no... If you're still okay with tomorrow night, it completely works for me."
  "Six-thirty at Mondelli's?"
  "I'm looking forward to it."
  "Great! So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then. "
  "See you tomorrow."