Wednesday, May 26, 2010

7 Day Writing Challenge - Day 3

Read about the challenge here.

1. The cat refuses to walk in her new red harness that straps around her neck and also around her body so she can't slip the lead when she travels back to the UK in the car. But the red is such a good colour against her black coat, or 'robe' as her french passport says - 'robe noir'. It makes me think of Coco Chanel and her little black dress.

2. A salad of rocket and fresh pear and soft blue cheese on a white china plate with two slices of crusty pain de campagne.

3. Wind rushes through the house today, doors slam from the pantry to the attic, windows, left ajar, shake and rattle. Outside, the palm tree fronds bounce and thrash, the sun umbrella flaps like a prehistoric green bird.


Helen said...

1. Faux diamond set high on a silver plated ring bought in Dublin. Catches every sort of light and holds it in an icy stare.

2. Huge, misbehaving hair somewhere between curly and wavy. Tie it all back with Walter Scott’s image of a ponytail “as thick as your arm”.

3. “The Rainmaker” – Burt Lancaster’s forearms as he catches Katharine Hepburn in her ecstatic swoon.

martin cordrey said...

1/ reading the morning papers report on the Queens speech, outside the temperature has dropped nine degrees on yesterdays high.

2/ our silver tabby attacks a passing fly with her paws, with little success.

3/ the playhouse door is blowing in the wind, on the floor a broken wasps nest I sprayed with chemicals the night before.

frankthepoet said...

1. The glass on my side table is empty. The table lamp throws a pink stain onto my notebook through the glass's residue of wine. I am reminded of church windows, that whole ceremony of blood. Now here on my notebook, the shadow of the glass with its centre of sin.

2. That small girl trailing her mum in the mall is not here. Look closely, she is away in her head, her hands floating out from her sides, her smile coming and going. The lemon and white of her dress is startled by the dark tumble of her hair as she leans to dive through the shine in the floor.

3. There are over 200 post boxes in this room - two walls full and a central aisle - one for each appartment in this tower. Each has a shiney blue metal door, a silver lock. Post gets delivered once a week. This is the seventh time I have stepped into this bright room with my small key. I look over at my box. Perhaps this time I'll find an envelope like a flat tongue in the yawn of its opened door. Then I think that perhaps I should sleep on that thought until tomorrow.

Glenn Buttkus said...


I crept like a crippled
centipede along the single
clogged lane we morning
commuters had been herded
into by two white state patrol cars, their light bars
throbbing with oscillating
colors, saturating the wolf-hour with blood-red, tingling orange, and constabulary blue,
as we had to inch along sniffing each other's bumpers like big dogs in the park, until we could see the accident--a black pick up truck lying on its back, looking like a Martian beetle, its fat radials spinning a sad song
to an indifferent sky, and a
beer can Prius on its green side with its top smashed in,
crushed like an eggshell--
two bodies covered
in fireman's blankets, a tall
woman weeping, being held up
by a patrolman, with a fire
truck as sentinel, lit up
with lights like a yuletide
yard bush, an aid car, two
ambulances--cops, paramedics,
and firemen rushing about,
waving their arms frantically,
pumping the air, yelling
unintelligible orders and
epithets--soon just twitching
blinking shadows in my rear
view mirror.

A young man, probably in his
late teens, who helped me unload
my old TV at the Goodwill
electronics recycling center;
tall, reed-thin, black Lady Gaga tee-shirt, slender bony arms
poking out of flapping short
sleeves, an open vest--some gray-
striped banker's attire picked
up from one of their clothing
bins, with very tight black
levis, slung low showing half of
his checkered boxer shorts,
like he was wearing his little
sister's Capri pants, barely
held up with a thick black
leather belt studded with silver
conchos; five silver studs in
his left ear, a gold lip ring,
a golden safety pin piercing
his right eyebrow, sporting a
round tongue ring that flashed
at me as he puffed to lift the
television; long hair on his left
side with a purple dyed lock
dangling over one eye, and close-
cropped military cut on the
other side--probably a good kid,
drug-free, smart, sensitive;
but you know I couldn't help
being pissed off just looking
at him--another victory for
youthful ire.

A Latin beauty emerging from her
black Jaguar, movie star sun
glasses hiding her eyes, hair
long, raven-black and wavy;
creamy brown skin glowing with
health, wearing a puffy-sleeved
peasant blouse that had a low-
cut scoop neck, exhibiting large
breasts pushed up in some DD
Victorian secret black bra,
showing at one shoulder and near the dangerous plunge of her cleavage, bare midriff--abbs
taunt and sensual, hip-hugging
designer jeans, one ankle
adorned with a slender gold
chain, 3-inch red heels with
overlapping spaghetti straps.
I smiled at her as I loaded
my groceries. She rushed by me
like I wasn't there.

Nicky said...

The colours from his rainbow leak from the brush, spill down his white shirt, splash over the desk.

She chooses to sit at the back of the class. I think she’s lonely and ask if she’s ok, she smiles brightly and tells me she just wanted the space to paint a ‘really big picture’.

Wire mesh laid over wooden planks makes the bridge non-slip, but tangles with the dog’s claws.

Erin Lee Ware said...

1) Taking down the hanging fern from the porch eave, I notice two small, blue bird eggs peeking out from the foliage.
2) A black bird cuts across the dark gray sky. Navy clouds rolling.
3) Stepping onto the elevator, I smell a man’s cologne—what lingers of his presence

Lu said...

1. After rain, grass shoots five inches tall. My old tennis shoes are dyed green by the freshly cut clippings.

2. A young man across the street is trimming the edges of the lawn, just like how a barber trims one’s neck hair, and the air smells of botanical shampoo.

2. In the horticulture garden, flowers bloom for the sunshine. Bees hum in peonies, as a white butterfly flutters around, with frequent, short stops here and there, then flies away to look for a new lover.

frankthepoet said...

1. The sun is up and on the balcony opposite, a woman in a business suit is draping her washing to dry. I imagine her coming home this evening and filling her arms with the day's warmth - bright blouses, skirts and handfuls of underware, all gathered up and folded, the day's work done.

2. There is a moment of stillness, a slow second, just after that first sip of coffee, when the self can gather itself, gird itself against the day ahead. One sip and then the morning's back, the sun setting out its plans on the table, my briefcase dragging itself towards the door.

3. I am looking through my reflection in the window of my high office, looking down on the muddy lake, the unfinished walkways, the stacked bricks. Between the towers opposite, Sheik Zayed Road pumps itself into the city. I am early, the office empty behind me. Palm trees gather round my waist.