Category Archives: Struggling Writer

Silent Passenger

Daily Prompt, Learning to Write, Struggling Writer July 1, 2017 Comments: 3

Daily Prompt

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I was the last passenger to arrive and quickly slid into the remaining seat on the bus. The driver closed the door, check both side mirrors for traffic then pulled out of the driveway of Betty’s Shuttle Bus Service. Although It was an eight-passenger van, there were seven of us. The man behind me took up two seats. I wondered if he had paid for two, making the fifty-mile trip to the airport express, or if we would be topping along the way to pick up a finale passenger. The girl next to him, a Laura Dern lookalike, squirmed in her thin body staring out the window.

 At 6:35 AM, the sun was just rising and promised a hot day.

In the way back was a teenager dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, plugged into his cell with an mostly empty backpack on his lap. Along side of him could be his girlfriend or sister. They pushed against each other with their arms in a familiar but not too happy manner. The passengers in the middle seat, significantly older, could be a couple; a man and woman about the same age looking like each other.

No one spoke as the radio blared Kenny Rogers’ song, “Know When to Hold Them.”

However, heads began to shake disapprovingly with a news report of President Donald Trump’s latest tweet. The lead in; Trump lashes out again at Morning Joe host.  

The elderly man in the middle seat removed his Yankee baseball cap, scratched his head, and turned to the woman along side of him, “What is wrong with that man?” he asked.

She crossed her arms around her thick waist and gave her breasts a supportive boost, “I don’t even know what a tweet is, but I’m embarrassed for him.”

“He’s a bully!” The Laura Dern lookalike stated emphatically.

The man taking up two seats wiped rolling down beads of sweat from his brow with a dirty cloth handkerchief with a grunt.

The kid way back removed his ear buds and called out, “Dudes, Trump’s cool, that’s what people do, no worries.”

I rummaged through my tote bag looking for nothing.

 

. . . . Seriously Just Saying

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Gooey Snack

Daily Prompt, Learning to Write, Struggling Writer, Writing Exercise June 30, 2017

 

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Daily Prompt

     Remember the days of mushy white wonder bread spread with margarine and sprinkled with real sugar, that was a snack after we changed out of school clothes into play clothes (woolen Jamaica shorts, argyle socks and white Keds.

     It was the time of hot dogs, English muffin pizza, Bologna sandwiches, cool aid, powdered milk, and the introduction of frozen vegetables.

     My all time favorite snack, however, was crackers smeared with gooey peanut butter and of course grape jelly.

     Today I indulged in that with an afternoon cup of coffee and found myself in heaven.

 

. . .  Seriously just saying

Good Looking

Daily Prompt, Struggling Writer, Writing Exercise June 5, 2017

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Daily Prompt Uniform

The Cadets filed across the stage one by one, abruptly stopped or came to a halt and after saluting the Commander came to rest. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder hands at their sides, the buttoned down shirt collars smiled. Snug belts hugged midriffs and razor sharp creases cascaded their pant legs brushing the tops of high shine black shoes, making each one indistinguishable from the next. The sameness and harmony guaranteeing no one was more important.

. . . .  Seriously Just Saying

Boohoo Coffee Cup

Learning to Write, Struggling Writer, Writing Exercise May 13, 2017

Boohoo Coffee Cup

thThere is something appealing, soothing about the cardboard cup in my hand. The container dressed in army green with a crisp white lid appears dignified. A dirt brown cuff wrapped around its middle protects my fingers and palm from the too hot content. The walk from the coffee station to a comfortable table and chair looks to be an easy task but is not when my handbag slips off my shoulder. The strap lands in the crook of my elbow, I tighten my hand around the paper cuff which pops open the lid and hot liquid slides down its crisp exterior threatening to scald my hand. I rush to the nearest table fearing what would come    next, that is when we met.

Cusp of Ridiculousness

Daily Prompt, Struggling Writer April 4, 2017 Comments: 2

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Daily Prompt

Cusp of Ridiculousness

     Today’s Daily Prompt is cusp; I grab a dictionary to clarify meaning, my mind racing from the morning news regarding Judge Neil M. Gorsuch’s Supreme Court nomination.

Cusp is a point of intersection where two arcs or curved branches meet, an opportunity for politicians to put politics aside and move forward for the good of this country.

That is not happening because Democrats seek revenge for Republican Mitch McConnell refusal to conduct hearings on Obama’s nominee Judge Merrick B Garland.

It feels like a food fight in the Kindergarten lunchroom, They appear to be having fun, but who will be cleaning up the mess?

. . . . Seriously just saying

 

The Scent of Coffee

Daily Prompt, humor, Learning to Write, Struggling Writer February 2, 2017

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Daily Prompt

     I walk into the coffee shop a strong whiff of coffee descends and I am in heaven. There is no other way to describe the effect and close my eyes inhale the aroma. My chest expands savoring the moment, and then with relaxed shoulders I join a line of customers. The line is not long.

A voice behind a “Flavor of the Season” sign calls out, “Sara, frozen latte extra whip cream.” A woman steps to the counter with a receipt in hand, “That’s me but I want a frozen latte with extra caramelized whipped cream.” Her emphasis on caramelized is exaggerate.

I study the iced plastic container with a sleek black straw poked into its dome cover as it is set aside and search my senses for a hint of coffee.

The line is not getting shorter but longer behind me.

I hear the cashier take orders for a Cappuccino, a Frappuccino (whatever that is), several Smoothies and a Latte Macchiato, and believe I am next in line when she announces her break.

The customer line is now out the door the strong coffee aroma diluted. Be patient I tell myself thinking I may have caffeine withdrawal when I am called and order, “A regular cup of coffee.”

“Tall or Grande?”

I want to tell her to just shut-up, hurry up and get me a cup of coffee but do not. I smile, “Tall, please.”

“Would you care for a Croissant, Scone, Cheese Danish or Cinnamon Morning Bun?”

“No, just coffee! I’ve been standing in line for thirty minutes I want a cup of coffee, not a Latte, Cappuccino, Espresso, Caffé Misto, or Green Tea. I just want a cup of coffee.”

. . . . Seriously Just Saying

Mrs. Dash

Daily Prompt, Learning to Write, Struggling Writer, Uncategorized January 30, 2017

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     Suspicious? Yes, she is suspicious and had been for a while. There is that little twinkle in his eye when he smiles, and he smiles more checking a mirror constantly for food stuck in his teeth. The other day he said, “I’m thinking of whiting them.”

     She hears the outside door slam as he bounds up the steps to announce, “I’m home.”

     “I heard you coming.” She replies  and pulls the sheer window cover aside. A most attractive woman is standing in the rain. The young female, wearing  a spaghetti strap dress its fabric absorbing the sudden downpour, is twirling a large black umbrella. She has a Mona Lisa smile and dancer calf’s.

   “Come have a look, this woman has to be freezing and how can she walk in those heels?”

    “Only to make you happy. I have better things to do.” He says hanging  his jacket on a coat hook near the door.

     Together they peer out the water-speckled pane of glass his hands on her shoulders. “That’s Mrs. Dash.”

“Mrs. Dash, as in the salt replacement. You know her?”

“Yea, Mrs. Dash as in replace the salt. I don’t know if she owns the company, but she is your new neighbor.”

. . . . . Seriously Just saying

 

Filter

Daily Prompt, Learning to Write, Struggling Writer January 28, 2017 1 Comment

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Photographer: ДмитрийВладимирович

Daily Prompt

     The sunlight filters through the slots in a wooden blind and reveals what was not seen before. The five o’clock sun makes the dust and single strands of blonde hair twinkle on the dark pine floor. There are some pencil shavings and itsy -bitsy pieces of paper She grabs a sweeper from the closet. It is lightweight, less than three pounds, reminds one of a dust-buster but has a long handle and is more powerful. She vacuums intensely conscious of the fading light outlining the evidence. When the sun is gone, her shoulders relax and she sighs. Is a dirt house a crime?

Ten

Daily Prompt, Struggling Writer January 26, 2017

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“I’ll be back in ten.” He said twenty minutes ago.

She unfolds herself out of the car, waves and rushes inside for coffee and a favorite, crumb cake.

Now she sits at an umbrella table, the too hot to hold cup cooling surrounded by the  Mountains and hugs her tote. Reminds herself; we are in Albuquerque staying at the Holiday Inn or is it the Comfort?

How long does it take to get gas?

She savors the cinnamon crumbs alternated by sips of dark roasted coffee.

After thirty minutes, she does the math. Thirty minutes ago he said, “I’ll be back in ten.” So forty minutes have passed. I’ll phone, and uses voice command to Call Bob, her husband of forth-six years.

His voice mail automatically goes on and she says, “It’s me, where are you?”

Ten more minutes pass.   

In the distance fire sirens screechy, and she thinks, maybe he had a heart attack and tries to recall the car rental company they used at the airport.

She caresses her cell, debates whether to call 911, and deposits her empty cup in a nearby garbage pail. When a car horn honks and he calls, “You’ll never guess what happened.”

 

. . . . Seriously Just Saying

Irksome People

Daily Prompt, Learning to Write, Struggling Writer, Writing Exercise November 7, 2016

Daily Prompt

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     Nora sets two hot coffee containers on the reception desk then places her handbag on the swivel chair. She removes her coat walking towards the open closet door, several winter coats hang lazily on hangers inside. She buttons her Mohair wool jacket to a wooden one, to prevent it slipping to the floor, and turns to see Don, wearing a smile, wiggling out of his leather bomber.

     Nora says, “Good Morning, Don, I brought you coffee.”

     “Thanks Nora, a peace offering or you gonna start?” He reaches for a hanger and drapes his jacket on it. The heavy shoulders pull to one side and the end of the hanger pokes the forearm of the garment.

     She answers, “Peace offering, although I find it irksome and would not abuse such a beautiful article of clothing if it were mine, it’s yours and you have every right to hang it anyway you like.”

     Don’s smile broadens, “Irksome as in irk? A little word, short and to the point. Irk, produces a sharp sound with little effort if you pucker you lips together, Nora,” then his smile fads.  

. . . . Seriously Just Saying