Nylecoj

Thank you again, Dragon, for choosing my story. Here is the new word list, if you use all the words you will have used every letter in the alphabet.

Joy
Onyx
Brink
Caress
Zealous
Fleeting
Whisper
Vanquish
Inundated
Ambiguo us

326 words. Cut off date will be the 20th at midnight, I will choose on the morning of the 21st (being a week from Wednesday) Enjoy!

Nylecoj

Typo.... The last word should be Ambiguous. No space, sorry.

ladyhwin

hehehe, I love it! Off I go! (elves... trees... leafy green forests.... )

giraffe

326 words w/o title. The split word got me thinking. I'll really try to use the words next time.

ME AND JIMMY

"I AM BIG, yOU USer!" he screamed at me in an all caps text.
"My VAN sQUISHED the last punk who said F-off to me. And I could
CARE LESS."

He was the biggest rock promoter in the country and it's amazing
hoW HIS PERception is treated like gospel in the industry. I was definitely on the failure list. I guess I went too far. IN an UNDATED, unsigned letter, I told him exactly how I feel about his business practices. Somehow he knew it was me. I think Jimmy told him because he's been trying to crawl up my back on the corporate ladder for months. Well now I'm out of his way - permanently.

I don't care. He doZE A LOUSy job. He's a hack guitarist. He'll be back and I won't be there. He likes to be called J.O., You know. He's referring to 'you know what' and it's that kind of potty humor that sells music these days.

Ever since I told him I was going to FLEE "TIN Giraffe" (That was our first band) his ego went wild. He vowed to see me ruined. He got a gig ON YX station and wouldn't even let me sit in. This battle wasn't going to end soon.

So now I'm in this new band called SoBR IN Kansas. We're gonna kick their asses. I don't care if Mr. Graham has blacklisted me. Just wait.

Maybe I'll pay Jimmy a visit. I know he's home because this his time for a 'swim'. There he is in all his swimsuit glory with about 20 people partying around him. All holding drinks.

I rush at him from the patio door and push him into the water. "Security!" someone yells. I don't care because that's probably the first time he ever was in that pool.

He comes up crying and I don't care. I'm being handcuffed when Jimmy yells "WAIT".

"Let me deal with this" through his tears.

Nylecoj

Thanks for starting us off Giraffe! Very creative way to use all the words!

ladyhwin

Okay, only a hundred words, just to keep myself into the mood of these words. : D


Perched upon the brink of the table, balanced precariously, yet unafraid of falling...
Admiring the onyx floor from the height, feeling special in the wealthy home...
No desire to caress, thoughts fleeting and passing like the wind in a forest...
Overflowing with joy at being left to see the world...
Fearing to be vanquished, excited by the whisper of a breath...
A dark, ambiguous form overshadowed the tiny, zealous creature and brushed it away. Away it skidded, inundated with horror, underneath a tall, ornamental cabinet. And there the tiny bread crumb remained, until the end of his days. The end.

Doug

Nylecoj: What a grand set of words! Interesting, challenging and I see a lot of different takes for story lines. As for me, you have my mind "a buzz" already. Do I show the softer side or the evil monster that lurks inside my cranium. I guess I'll just have to do both!

giraffe: Great story begging for another chapter or two. I think you could have left the "word list" in lower case as it might have been more intriguing to figure out you actually used the words. A good word tangle nevertheless!

ladywin: Too short as Mekeys notes on my "animations" sometimes, but you used the list well and the story was superb. It was very poetic to me. Loved it!

giraffe

Doug. Thanks. That was a way of gradually wading into the word list even though none of them kept their true meanings. I'll get serious any day now.

LadyH. I had to read that 3 times and each time I blinked and said 'Is that what I think it is?' And it was. I love it (Ambrose Bierce style and all).

belladonnis

Way over 326. Oh well.

Leaving

The moon rose over the snowy peaks of the mountains, a crystal white orb that inundated its glow over the sleepy little town below. The town itself wasnt much to speak of just a small spot at the base of the most beautiful view in the world. A town that if not for the mountains that framed it would disapear like a whisper in the wind.

Ella looked out the window at the moon wishing she were that whisper the wind would carry away. She had lived all her twenty years here under the weight of that beautiful view. "Ella stop dreaming we have a customer!" Vonda snapped. "He will be on the brink of starvation if you dont get moving, always dreaming you are."

Ella sighed pulling herself away from her thoughts to get a menu. "Welcome to the"......words left her as she looked into his eyes. Eyes the color of onyx set in a handsome angular face, deep ambiguous eyes she felt herself drowning in.

"Excuse me......Miss...are you alright?" he asked, his voice like a caress against her ear. Ella stammered, "Yes, yes I'm alright, sorry, welcome to the Blackstone what can I get you?" His dark eyes swept her face, "Wine, just a glass of red wine" he told her.

Aiden tried to slow the beating of his zealous heart. He had travelled so far, searching so long trying to vanquish the pain. The pain of his loss of her and here in this small little town, in this dusty little tavern like a fleeting memory she stood, solid and whole. Aiden finished his wine and tossed money on the table as he left needing the cool breeze off the mountains to clear his head.

Ella walked down the path to her cottage, all the while thoughts of him swirling in her head. Who is he, were does he come from and where is he going? Why do his dark eyes so familiar touch something deep in my soul.

"Ella." he said from the shadows stopping her. She felt his chest brush her back as he asked "What do you dream of?" Her breath caught in her throat as his hands came around her pulling her against him. "Leaving" she sighed. "Will you come with me, leave these beautiful mountains?" Aiden asked her in a passioned voice. "Yes" Ella said leaning closer into him. As his mouth descended to her neck there was no pain in leaving. Ella only felt joy.

giraffe

326 words. I cannot take any credit for this story. It was inspired by an article I read.

JULIA'S LUNCH BUCKETS

The shiny, onyx look of coal is very deceptive. You can break coal apart in your fingers - unlike the gem that is rock solid. We know that coal mining is a fleeting industry. Our zealous attempts to strip mine these hills will someday go away as the coal depletes. We all live with that, but survival in the present is our goal.

I work 2 miles underground in the worst environment you can imagine. There's no natural light or water. It's filthy and the only thing we have is the bucket lunch our wives packed for us. There's no joy in this work except the bucket and your wife's warm caress as she whispers "Come home safe, Baby." Coming home to a shower and change of clothes, some dinner and laughing with the kids - hopefully some sex - then sleep, wake up and start it all over again.

They didn't teach us much in school. Just to show up on time and do what you're told. I was real good at that so I made it to Foreman. My dad is really proud because he never made it past Assistant Foreman. I didn't mean to show him up, but he didn't mean to show up his Pa either. Gramps died in that Spring Hill cave in.

Now we're inundated with newscasters from all over. The mine owners are just being ambiguous about the safety regulations they have ignored. There's guys buried in those roads that never saw sun nor sky.

I'm on the brink of hitting the next reporter who wants to photograph the first tear out of my eye. So I vanquish my own feelings.

My brother's down there. I made it out. It's been 8 days and we just stand here. My wife still brings me a bucket lunch every day, but I ain't going home until I know.

She's watching the kids and I have no job to do. This is it. No rules apply.

morshy

Interesting choice of words. I like it.

Not including the title - 323 words long. Including the title - 327 words. All required words present and accounted for. Here's my (first) effort. Enjoy

Pleased To Meet You

The phone rang, again. She’d been inundated with calls this morning; from people all wanting to know the same thing: Were the whispers true? Was the company really on the brink? And she had to tell them all the same thing: I don’t know.

The Aston Martin Vanquish slowed to a halt outside an unprepossessing door. There was no name plate, no plaque. But behind the door, deals were brokered that changed lives, decisions made that changed the world. The chauffeur opened the car door and caught a fleeting glimpse of the onyx interior before respectfully looking away. Without a word, he knocked, once, on the door. He didn’t pause for a reply. He got back into the car, switched the engine on, and waited.

Joy stepped into the hallway. The door slid silently shut behind her. She let her eyes become accustomed to the gloom, and made her way slowly forward. The dress she wore caressed her body with the soft touch of a zealous lover. It felt good on her skin, but did little to keep the chill of the interior out. In front of her, through an open doorway, she could see a small table, two chairs, one document and one pen.

She sat down and studied the document. It would guarantee the survival of the company, HER company, as well as the fifty or so jobs related to it. As documents go, there was nothing ambiguous about it. In return for her soul, the devil would save the business. Still undecided, she picked up the pen, and promptly dropped it. Something sharp had pricked her, piercing the skin. A small drop of blood fell and spattered on the paper. Before she could do anything, a small, round, bespectacled man appeared at her side, whisked the document from in front of her, and whispered “This will do nicely”. He disappeared, leaving behind the faintest trace of brimstone in the air.

giraffe

Bella, It's like leaving one paradise for another. It's enticing and thoughtful.

Morshy. Signed in blood with such a dress. Shame!

Doug

belladonnis, either I"m just tired (yes) and need to go to bed or did I just read a story with my type of demented twist at the end? Oh my...I think I might just have to up the ante....lol...and here it is!

The Empty Bar Stool

Just a tad zealous for my own good I strode into Hunters Inn with a cocked head and a steely twinkle in my eyes. Regan had to be here. This was one of our “usual” haunts.

Regan had what all men wanted and some women…a tall slender build…the PERFECT smile and onyx colored eyes that could melt steel. I was lost in her; incapacitated to the point I quit my job, left my Barbie doll girlfriend and hung out at Clubs even though I didn’t drink.

There she is….wearing a bright sparkly top, black jeans and stilettos. She was the picture of heaven. Sipping on her favorite sangria with a zest of lime and the joy in her expression left little doubt she was enamored with the conversation she was having with her girlfriend.
I sauntered over to the empty bar stool next to her and sat down. Reaching out with my fingertips, I found my way to the soft skin at the nape of her neck and I caressed her softly.

We had met at an innocuous bus stop two years ago. In one brief fleeting moment, my head was swooning and my eyes glazed as I heard her singing in a whisper. It seemed ambiguous at the time, but THAT first day or maybe moment in time changed my whole life. I no longer felt lost to the daily grind of work and then more work. My life had MEANING. I was inundated with feelings so strong I felt I would surely perish from the weight of it all both in my heart and soul. She brought me to the brink of selflessness, but reminded me of just how selfish I am. I could not share her love and I would not let it vanquish.

Death cheated me three months ago. I now follow Regan the unseen wanting to be seen. I found love and lost it. My soul remains with Regan.

Doug

giraffe, good story but all too real. Its not just the latest "disaster" that should trouble everyone. Mines carry an innate danger and the workers are at the mercy of the companies complying to safety protocol. My wife's grandmother worked in a mushroom mine and the chemicals used to farm mushroom underground in caves caused her to have emphesyma.

Morshy...the devil's in the details..

marius

This was two stories but now seems like one story with two parts. Anyway both parts have 326 words without title. All words are used in the first part, second part is missing fleeting and brink : )


Measure of Life

Part 1: The List

Joy had one way to measure life, one thing that made everything fit, everything work, and that was doing! Nothing mattered as long as she was able to do the things that mattered.

A good day went like this: She would wake up at that ambiguous time when it wasn’t quite dawn but wasn’t still night. Then, with the zeal of children on the night before Christmas, she would write out “The List,” the precious list.

Only then would she pour some onyx in the cup and make a fleeting attempt to catch up on news she might’ve missed while sleeping. When the black brew had sufficiently awakened her senses, she would vanquish thoughts of everything but her plans for the day. It was an addict’s caress, this time with her list. It made her feel alive, powerful and useful.

Best of all were errands. She could remember when she’d leave the house before the sun had bothered to show up and get to work. She’d stop by the cleaners, drop into the thrift store, get her hair done, buy Christmas presents even though it was April, check out four places looking for draperies, and then drive by the new restaurant that was going up, the one that almost sent Cordelia Pickleheimer to the brink of disaster. After a few more stops she would get home in time to scrub the floors.

She would sail through dinner preparations with Gladys on the phone and the news shouting drama in the background. Then Bryan would come home, they’d eat and she’d tell about her day.

Joy never knew how he felt to be inundated with minutia of things for which he had no feeling. She never heard the small whisper either, the caress that invited her to slow down. When the hospital became her permanent home, her measure of life simply became the lists of others.

Unfortunately, none of them made lists like she thought they should.



Part 2: Regular Things

Kathleen held her phone and shrugged. She thought she had a good list so she pushed the button and clicked on Joy. Their greetings were always the same: how are you, fine ... how are you, fine ... and then Joy’s favorite question: What’d-cha do today?

“Oh, cleaned bathrooms, paid bills, emptied cat boxes, sorted through the catalogs I told you about, made cookies, balanced the checkbook, pulled weeds, ran errands ... “

“Errands? Where’d-cha go?” wheezed Joy. “Did you see the new restaurant on Elm, the one that vanquished the groundhogs?” Kathleen giggled. It was always like this: errands were Joy’s ultimate joy! If there was mention of errands it was a given that you would be inundated with questions. Actually pounded was more like it: where’d you go, who’d you see, how was traffic, what’d you wear?

Vanquished groundhogs? Kathleen’s mind howled at that image; she would keep it to remember during Joy’s funeral. Her friend with the onyx eyes, mistress of mispronunciations and curious word uses: PUMA-nairy for pulmonary was charming, inscented for incensed was sheer delight!

“I went to the post office and bank. Oh, that gal with vermillion hair, the one who whispers? She wasn’t there today.”

After Kathleen closed the phone, her daughter slipped into the kitchen. “Mom?” she queried, “Joy is certainly zealous about getting things done, but I was listening and, um, why did you lie to her?”

Kathleen laughed. “Oh honey, you can’t tell Joy you did a bit of this and that. Too ambiguous. And besides, Joy wants to hear about the kind of day SHE understands, the kind she can’t have anymore.”

The mother’s voice was a caress. “Sweetie, if ever I can’t have my kinds of days, will you make one up for me? You can call and say, ‘Yeah, haven’t done much today. Piddled around, petted cats, stared out the window, scratched an itch, thought of people I love, you know ... regular things.”

Nylecoj

LadyHwin: Brilliant! Short, but a great insight into what a crumb would see.

Belladonnis: Very well written! I could see the mountains.

Giraffe: A picture of a harsh world. I hope the guys brother makes it out so he will go home.

Morshy: Your character must have been terribly desperate, or at least seemed that way, very well done.

Doug: Another masterpiece with one of your twists on the end

Keep the great stories coming!

marius

Heavens! People have been busy!

giraffe: Me and Jimmy - clever, clever word play! Julia's Lunch Bucket - wonderful story, seems a new kind of story for you. Yes? Like the image of the lunch bucket contrasting with events. (And haha to post 12, comment to morshy. Also, just cause he's new doesn't mean you can't send him to his room!)

Ladyhwin: gotta love that crumb! Totally cracked me up, charmed too. Not sure why Doug said too short - seems perfect length.

belladonnis: Love how you created the mood. Glad you joined us.

morshy: pleased you are still with us. Enjoy your writing style. marius wants to know how you found us? (Yes, she is can be nosy so expect more questions later.)

Doug: Like The Empty Bar Stool ... well of course I did, not scary! (just ribbing you a bit!)

Doug

belladonnis: with my apologies and a bit of angst...I just reread your story and I guess in my sleepy state or I was thinking of "what would happen if I wrote it" I saw strangulation involved. It was a kiss on the neck? Oh my, I missed that one by a mile. Think about the hands on the neck next time squeezing, feeling the veins swell as the fingers tighten, and the face turning a multititude of red based colors as the capillary blood flow rushes to the outer extremes of the face tissue............ROFL.

giraffe

True, Doug. We have disasters in Colo. when they build tunnels through solid rock mountains to facilitate traffic. My friend Julia writes a column for her local paper where this thing happened and she didn't want to write it, but was obligated to put down something. She's already blasted the coal company and Blankenship hates her guts, so she took this angle. I credit her for the story.

giraffe

Doug. A ghost stalking his true love? That's rich.