Qsilv

Thanks to Mouse you find yourselves within the thrall of one of my stream-of-consciousness word lists again –

Again, feel free to use any form of each word that works for you…
BUT…
the catch this time is I’d like you to try setting it up in the PRESENT TENSE!
Don’t let that slow you down though – we deal in principles, not rules, around here. Break ‘em if you need to.

309 words…
ending next Monday night, so 9pm Pacific, midnight Eastern, 29 March
(Tuesday morning in UK and Europe)

grandiose
gladly
grate

flawlessly
forest
fate

enfranchise
emblem
eight

AND one 4-syllable word of your own choosing

…most of all, have fun (yes yes, even if that's catharsis-style "fun"!)

;>

giraffe

309 w/o title I think. 4-syllable is disenfranchised. Present tense.

GLAMOUR

I am flawless. I'm popular, famous and rich. I'd have the world wrapped around my finger, but I wear too many rings to fit it. Everyone clammors to see me in my sequined blouses and fur coats that dazzle their envy. They've never known anyone as glamourous as I.

Some find my voice grating - in a Carol Channing sort of way, but once they see me perform, they forget about all of that. I love my grandiose style and I gladly accept this fate.

Here's that familiar knock on my dressing room door. I know it's William, but coyly I ask "Who is it?" I'm like a schoolgirl every time he comes to wish me luck and I gladly let him enter.

"It's William, Darling. Are you decent?"

"Does that matter, Dear?" It was our game of tension and pretense. "Go away. I'm busy putting on my makeup." I'm such a tease. I know that next he will melt me with that sweet voice.

"I'm coming in." He almost sang it. I quivered. But why is he looking at me like that? He always kisses my cheek, but now he's just glaring at me.

"I want a divorce." He's not singing now. Something's wrong.

"You don't need the money. Everything I own is yours."

"I want a divorce. I moved out, goodbye." And he's out the door.

My mind is swirling. I'm dressed and ready. The great Liberace must perform. My fans - my music - can I ever face them? I have a Chopin nocturne to make it through and then some gutzy Rimsky-Korsokov.

I'm on stage. I'm doing it - disenfranchised as I feel. The forest of keys and tones has again Mesmerized me. Now I'm singing "I'll be seeing you...".

Eight years and no emblem or badge to wear.

Qsilv

lol.... you got it... sneaky tho', tweaking 'enfranchise' to BE the 4 syllable kicker.

LOVE the 'forest of keys and tones'.


MS Word counts 303. I think the fix is easy and adds punch --
"I am flawless. Famous. Popular. Rich."

The only other thing I'd absolutely itch to tinker with might be the "glaring"... somehow it's tempting to turn that into something sadder yet still inevitable...
...the shock value is crucial. Kudos, giraffe.

By the way, thanks, too. I've just spent quite a few minutes reading up on Liberace -- fascinating!

;>

marius

giraffe - Aww, poor Liberace! Yeah ... the best in life is NOT money, fame and popularity. ; )

marius

309 words without title, 4-syllable word is establishment

A Fishy Look, A Sexy Eve, and a Little Dare

I’m writing in The First Person Coffee Shop. My back is to the window so I can see the murals. They are a tad grandiose for such a small establishment but I can’t stop looking. One mural flows across a door and on the other side the scene changes from the Biblical first person, Adam, to a rather Darwin-esque drawing of a different first person. Think Neanderthal with a fishy look.

Adam is in a forest amid a wild profusion of flora and fauna. He is wearing a fig leaf and drinking coffee. I laugh because I bet he would have wanted coffee. Looking at him reminds me of gran. Adam’s coffee would have grated on her sensibilities but the drawing where Eve says to Adam, “YOU be the first person to bite,” would send Gran to church for a week. Eve is flawlessly drawn, sublime beauty so perfect that she is sexy without seeming that way. I don’t know how to explain it but she’s the only sexy Eve I’ve seen.

Now it’s eight o’clock and as fate would have it, Jon is calling. He’ll be late but said his talk about Enfranchising Waterways in Urban Environments went well. I’ve yet to find a city that cares about tiny streams and creeks. My city approved building a parking lot over a creek. The official word was, “We’re not removing the creek, just re-routing it through sewer pipes.”

Guess thinking about that upset me because I knocked over my coffee. I’m glad the waiter wouldn’t let me do the clean-up. He set a stack of napkins on my table. One has a curious emblem in green and purple. Underneath it says, “Will you be the first person to leave all your joys here?”

The next napkin says, “The Waters were First Persons before Adam. Dare to live like them.”

marius

giraffe - I too wondered about, maybe stumbled on, the word 'glaring.' Was wondering why a glare. Not saying it didn't fit for me, just felt odd ... however, made me think there's a need to read up on the Great Liberace!

Doug

Way over the word count and I don't care! lol. The four syllable word is "generation". This probably isn't one of my best efforts, but it will have to do. Have a "field" day with this one if you must, but remember things don't always turn out the way you think...

Morgan

Morgan was enamored at the situation unfolding before his very eyes. It was the middle of the night and he was sitting on a Grandview Park bus stop bench. A couple in their mid 30’s he guessed was taking a stroll hand in hand oblivious to his presence. Grandview Park has a fair amount of trees of many varieties, but by no means could you consider it a forest. A well-rounded oak with the burgeoning undergrowth obscuring it would have been a much better hiding place, but a bus stop bench would do.
The couple had no idea what their fate would be. They were gladly lost in the magic of a midnight romance with stars a twinkle in their eyes and the songs of crickets chirping in their ears.

Morgan has no grandiose scheme.

His methods are simple.

When his head starts to throb and his fingers tingle to the point he can’t stand it anymore, it is time to wear the proud emblem of his ancestors and gladly give in to his urges. It’s not as if he is trying to enfranchise the world to his ways. He has his own personal mission in life that has been passed down from father to son from generation to generation. Now it is his time to take on the family tradition for at least eight seasons. I must not discontinue my family’s flawlessly perfect record.

Morgan kept a keen eye on the slow pace of the late night lovers. Surely, they would wind their way over to his “spot” where he could end his quest for this night at least. A small misstep by the woman caused by an unseen grate stopped their near perfect waltz of apparent happiness. The couple recovered from their near accident and was drawing closer.

Morgan rose as the couple appeared.

Good evening folks! My name is Morgan and I have a gift for you.

The startled couple didn’t know whether to flee or scream.

Morgan reached into his pocket, pulled out a card, handed it to the gentleman, and walked away leaving the couple more puzzled than ever.

Star light, star bright
First star I see tonight
Wish I may, wish I might
Have this wish I wish tonight

giraffe

Thanks, all. Good input. Us old farts remember when Liberace was hit with a "palimony" suit by his lover. Regardless, he was a piano virtuoso and deserves respect for that and for whatever emotional drive that drove him on.

giraffe

Marius. 'A fishy look' had me hooked. Evolution, whatever. Life imitates art with the sewer pipes and sexy Eve on the wall. Then Jon (Adam) is running late. Like the Mad Hatter. It has some common thread and I'll try untying this pretzle. Very thought provoking.

giraffe

Doug. I like it. A twist for the positive for a change. You've been doing that lately and I still wonder if it's Spring fever. I just think the young couple were both talking on cell phones and that's why they tripped.

marius

Doug, I like it too ... but the ending, hmmm, marius suspects a sequel. Yes? No? : )

giraffe, thanks for your comments. Qsilv said to write in first person and that found me writing IN First Person, i.e. the coffee shop. The coffee shop got fun when mural's showed up and Eve was unusual. That's about all I know. If there are things to untie, beats me what they are. [My city did actually pave over a creek though. Sigh.] : )

Qsilv

Q (who is shamelessly playing hooky here for a stolen few moments, cuz YOU folks are so shamelessly creatively wickedly goofily talented! ..how can I stay away?) ) actually said "present tense" ...but hey, 1st person works too.

giraffe

L. I don't know. It's something about the mural being an indication of the narrator's current life situation with Adam running late, the water project and the evolutionary water man. Want me to try a sequel?

marius

LOL ... Qsilv, you did say that! Am trying a story in second person, PRESENT TENSE ... I think. And, btw, would love to see five sentences using the word enfranchise. : )

giraffe - go for it. But, um ... Adam is in the mural so he can't be running late and since Jon is running late, he can't be Adam. Now if that doesn't confuse I'll have to try harder.

Meanwhile, what does "L." mean? Laughing? Lentils? Lichens?? Don't think I've ever said that itrw, people call me, "L." ; )

giraffe

Sorry, M. I had that song 'Laura' stuck in my mind.

giraffe

Maybe I was thinking Liberace, but I promise not to switch genders on Adam and Eve.

Dragon

And from now on should we start calling marius Lichens? I don't know why but that particular word struck me as funny.

marius

Tee hee - you may call me Lichens. I LOVE them. Here's the naturalist story that explains the basics about lichens, which are actually a combo of algae and fungus.

One day Albert Alga took a lichen to Fanny Fungus and they've been together ever since. : )

marius

[Warning: This story contains historic elements of early farm-life in Kansas and Missouri territories which some may find disturbing. Read at your own discretion.]



309 words, no use of enfranchise, incessantly is the 4-syllable word.


Killer

He is grandiose. His monologues grate. People nod with glazed eyes thinking, “What a colossal bore.” They are right but not entirely.

He sits on the porch rattling about some theory. The technical jargon loses her. His legs jiggle incessantly, trying to dislodge what won’t move.

She looks into the forest. Deer browse at the edge. Earlier she’d seen turkey. He sets up the spotting scope and says, “It’s the best money can buy.” He always says that about his things.

His eyes are watery with age and he gladly changes places to get out of the sun. That is when fate blesses them. They are both looking at the pond when eight baby wood ducks jump from the nest box and fall to the water. She gladly accepts the miracle. They swim flawlessly.

She looks up. Tears are running down his face too, but there are more than the moment seems to require. The baby ducks are peeping cheerily.

Thoughts about his childhood catch in her throat. Too many cats on a farm are not a good idea and there wasn't spaying and neutering then, but one should never make a five year old drown kittens. She thinks his child-mind survived the best way it knew; if you have to do something awful, pretend it is fun. After that he killed the kittens every spring and he also killed the rats and snakes. His family called him “Killer” and by the time he started killing the souls of people, he enjoyed it.

He takes her hand. Says he loves her. He looks happy and also like he wants to cry.

Does he know his cruelties hurt them? She thinks he does but these tears are for himself. He didn't abandon his parents for what they did but it seems HIS children are gone, even the ones who stayed.

giraffe

A Fishy Look, A Sexy Eve, and a Little Dare

I’m writing in The First Person Coffee Shop. My back is to the window so I can see the murals. They are a tad grandiose for such a small establishment but I can’t stop looking. One mural flows across a door and on the other side the scene changes from the Biblical first person, Adam, to a rather Darwin-esque drawing of a different first person. Think Neanderthal with a fishy look.

Adam is in a forest amid a wild profusion of flora and fauna. He is wearing a fig leaf and drinking coffee. I laugh because I bet he would have wanted coffee. Looking at him reminds me of gran. Adam’s coffee would have grated on her sensibilities but the drawing where Eve says to Adam, “YOU be the first person to bite,” would send Gran to church for a week. Eve is flawlessly drawn, sublime beauty so perfect that she is sexy without seeming that way. I don’t know how to explain it but she’s the only sexy Eve I’ve seen.

Now it’s eight o’clock and as fate would have it, Jon is calling. He’ll be late but said his talk about Enfranchising Waterways in Urban Environments went well. I’ve yet to find a city that cares about tiny streams and creeks. My city approved building a parking lot over a creek. The official word was, “We’re not removing the creek, just re-routing it through sewer pipes.”

Guess thinking about that upset me because I knocked over my coffee. I’m glad the waiter wouldn’t let me do the clean-up. He set a stack of napkins on my table. One has a curious emblem in green and purple. Underneath it says, “Will you be the first person to leave all your joys here?”

The next napkin says, “The Waters were First Persons before Adam. Dare to live like them.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In my mind, Jon's 'Enfranchising Waterways in Urban Environments' became the birthplace of Mr. Neanderthal fish eyes on the right side of the mural. The fact that Jon was late was HIS fish-eyed fault. I wanted us to be Adam and Eve in the forest with the garden. Fig leafs and all.

"Hi. Laura, I caught you daydreaming."

"Well it's eight-fifty." He startled me. "What do you expect me to do?" I kissed him briefly.

He pulled his chair up backwards and sat down quickly. In his grandiose fashion he yelled "We won!"

"You mean they're going to remove the grate from the creek entrance?"

"Yes. Yes. Yes."

"Then we'll all live! Oh, Jon, do you know what this means? We can plan a family. You've secured our fate. Now we're free and can gladly go back to the garden. Let's go right now."

Jon waltzed me over to the Adam and Eve side of the mural. That was the stage. Everyone applauded. We bowed.

As the lights dimmed, Jon was counting figures out loud about bacteria, fungi, wildlife, migratory birds and so on. That was his overature to the dialog. I was supposed to start stripping at that point, but instead I yelled "JON WON"

The audience was cheering as I flawlessly removed my blouse showing the emblem of our cause tattooed on my shoulder.

"Stop it, Eve! " Jon yelled.

"Adam." I cried, "Please eat the fruit of the Tree of Knowlege. Someday they'll call it 'science' but they'll never get that option unless you take a bite."

"And disobey God? God's my dad. You're just my wife."

That's when he takes off his pants revealing his Calvin Cline underwear. "Where's that apple, Eve?"

We share the apple and slowly waltz over to the other side of the door where fish-eyes was painted. "This is my brother." Adam says.

"We finally have knowlege of that." That was the cue for all of the audience to throw all their dishes and glasses on the floor and make scary sounds. It sounded like God's wrath.

God walks on stage and says "Get the F out of here!"

Spotlight on my soliloquy. "Jon won. We can live now." Jon's never won, but we hope someday he will. The audience cheers. Encore! Jon waves his shirt over his head and I take off my jeans.

The audience is naked by now. Back to the Garden is our cause. Adam and Eve parented us.