Doug

Thanks again mouse for choosing my story and I wish everyone in the Think Write community a Happy New Year. The word count on this first list of 2010 will be, no not 2010, but how about 333 exact, no more, no less. All entries must be posted by January 10th and I’ll choose the next torchbearer by January 11th. I’m looking forward to some great stories and hopefully the tremendous participation we have been getting lately.

Here is your word list:

Nefarious
Overtake
Power
Quiet
Resonate
Separate
Think
Uniform
Vibrate
Waste


You may use them in any form that you want.

Good Luck!

giraffe

I had to look it up.
nefarious:
extremely wicked or villainous; iniquitous: a nefarious plot.

Doug

giraffe: And wouldn't you know that I picked that one just for youuuuuuu! lol. Looking forward to your first story.

Shanley

333 words -title

'Buddies'

She was dizzy. Confused. She didn’t have the power to confront them. Not Victor and certainly not his girlfriend Cynthia. As their colleagues sat around the table, happy that the final exams were over, all she could think of was what to say. She had been waiting for a sign from him all day long. Something to reassure her talking to Cynthia was the right thing. She had never had nefarious thoughts about this complicated triangle, as she had never saw it as a triangle. But the last months had been a torture. She had finally got in touch with her feelings and realized she couldn’t ignore the time they spent together.
Victor was confused himself. He had wrapped himself in silence. He had tried talking to Cynthia to put her on guard, that this afternoon wasn’t a regular one. This uniform of the ‘cool guy’ was getting heavier by the minute. He slowly felt like his calm was overtaken by his anxiety. Should he leave them alone to talk? Was that just one big mistake? At first, he had told Mary that he wanted them to be just friends, although it had crossed his mind a few times that…
On the corner of the couch, Mary struggled with herself. She was feeling guilty… Cynthia and her had been friends. But she felt that she must be honest, because she knew Victor pretty well. His silence, his anxiety and …the look on his face, that Tuesday when she had called him ‘buddy’. His whole expression changed and he took one step back: ‘I’m not your buddy, you know…’. She had thought on and on about that day and about how their relationship was turning into a heavy silence that separated them as friends. She felt as if thoughts were vibrating in her head, perfectly resonating with her fears.
-Cynthia?
-Yes, Mary.
-Victor and I…-she eyed Victor’s worried face for a moment-…have been wasting lots of coffees lately. Let’s try a cappuccino this time.

mouse

Shanley This is really quite good and is just crying out for a sequel

mouse

Shanley One small correction-"-She had never seen it as a triangle " instead of saw it as a triangle

Shanley

Thank you for correcting that, Mouse. I guess I changed it a lot, because the word count didn't fit at first, as I was very focused on giving the reader an insight on each character's feelings. I ended up deleting a lot, lol. About the sequel...okay, i suppose i could give it a try (not right now though ). It would be interesting to have a sequel with a different word list, but I'll do my best with this one too.

giraffe

Well done, Shanley, and an insightful view of what an observer wouldn't notice.

Grammar: "Cynthia and her" should be "She and Cynthia". You can break all the rules you want to in the way someone talks, but your narrator should be grammatical. Anyway, your story is very moving. Thanks.

Archangelina

There was nothing exciting and uplifting anymore. Nothing new... Same routine, same food, same uniform; same need to sit and think. She wasn't paid to think, though, and time afforded her between jobs was scarce. Alex was in the middle of a power struggle, an ongoing battle between stable financial standings and living in the streets. Even now, she sat in a tub of cold water, shivering uncontrollably like a slab of quartz beyond its resonate frequency. She needed to conserve her money, and there was no point on wasting it on heating water... was there?

She stood and exited the bath, her arms drawn tightly around herself as she tried to stop vibrating with cold. She dressed in a thick cotton rob her mother had given her a year before at Christmas and examined, with a small hint of agitation, the broken hinge on her bathroom door. Even in quiet apartment complexes like her own, nefarious teenagers were not uncommon, and she'd yet to dress the windows in the common room beyond her bathroom. She had never caught a peeping tom before, but she would have to fix the hinge soon, lest she lose more of her waning senses.

Now was not the time, however, for being household handyman. She had to get dressed... go to work... bathe... go to sleep... wake up... put the hinge off for another day... and repeat.

Why did the real world have to be such a pain in the rear?

Archangelina

((whoops, part got cut off))

She dressed quickly and grabbed her keys. The worn floorboards creaked as she turned on her toes and headed for the door. She clicked open the three sliding locks on her door and turned the deadbolt just over the knob.

"'Was waiting on you, Alex..."

giraffe

Shampoo, rinse, repeat. Great description of a rut. Very nice usage.

giraffe

333 w/o title

LUCY'S GRAVE MISTAKE

Lucy always had a 'thing' for a man in uniform - not just any uniform, it had to be military. It could be any man, but when she fantasized about the blood they may have shed, her whole being would vibrate with erotic pleasure, The guilt she felt about having these feelings only stimulated her more.

Things were quiet at the downtown diner that night. She was slowly wiping down the counters and singing along to "Satisfaction" when Roland came in and sat down in a booth. Lucy's knees nearly buckled at the sight of him in full Marine regalia.

"Can I get you something?" she drooled. As she bent over to place his silverware, "Maybe some pie?" She imagined all of the nefarious deeds he may have committed in the last month or even weeks.

"Thanks, ma'am. Just some coffee. I see you're closing soon."

"You must be very lonely." She swished as she went for the coffee pot. "I'll stay open as long as you are hungry or thirsty or needy of anything." She imagined him drunk with power and laughing as he would overtake her by the cooler in lustful bliss.

"Yes, I'm very alone and life itself is lonely." Roland was waiting for closing time to deliver his shocking surprise. He was broke and hungry and AWOL and angry.

Lucy poured his coffee and sat down next to him on his side of the booth. As she sidled up to him she said "Mind if I sit down a few minutes? My feet are killing me."

"Not at all, Ma'am. Can I buy you something? Maybe some pie?"

"Honey, all you can give me is some of this." She stroked his thigh.

"Don't get me wrong. You're like my sister."

"Are you telling me you're gay? What a waste!"

"No, Lucy, you ARE my sister. I was adopted out before you were born. It's taken me years to find you."

No thoughts could stop the separation resonating in Lucy's head.

Doug

Off to a fine start....thanks for being up on the grammar mistakes folks, it is important....giraffe: nice twist and definately not one I was expecting..Keep em comin'....

Archangelina

That's a great twist, Giraffe!

giraffe

Thanks. I guess if you start out with something twisted, it's not hard to twist it farther. lol

marg

Happy New Year, Doug !

Umm.. since it's the brave and loving New Year 2010, I was sort of hoping you'd accept the following submission.. which I kinda think may not quite meet the number of words.. but it's SHORTER (and hence quicker to ignore !).

Umm 2.. I guess I could think of a really long title, if you like ?


So quiet, my love ?
Dost want me to regret what I have done ?
‘Tis but this uniform I wear, that separates us now,
That once were one

So still, my love ?
When yesterday you thrilled, touching my hand ?
Does nothing sound within your mind, or vibrate in your soul
When here I stand ?

Alas, I fear you cannot see the devil where he walks..
He is our son -
The poster cites ‘Nefarious Acts’ and ‘Cruelty to Beasts’
What have we done ?

There would have been a better time
For resonating words..
For strutting like a player on the stage -
You chide me that his tender age
Should give some room to err..
But me’thinks ‘tis better now to draw the line


In sooth, it was last Christmas
When you showed him how to make
His new toy car go faster, make it ‘vroom’
And I thought, then, it was dangerous
But didn’t like to say,
‘Though the car took off and span across the room

But your self esteem o’ertook good sense
- and sacrificed his innocence
- and sanctified this violence
With the burning greed for power..

Oh, do not waste your tears, my love,
The tortoise never knew -
Even with the lack of wheels, it went quite quick..
But our son should not have shouted so
To draw the neighbours out..
And see it thus impaled upon a stick

marg

Please believe me - this was really tongue in cheek - I hope I haven't offended anyone !

giraffe

marg, I actually think it's very good. And I think we all 'get' tongue in cheek. If some of my writing was true to fact, they'd arrest me.

giraffe

333 w/o title This is based on fact - that is, whatever you think it is.

A TRIBUTE TO ANNA MAGDALENA WULKIN / BACH

Johann Sebastian was married to his music. Even he didn't know where all of his brilliance was coming from, but he pursued it like a bull. Only two things obsessed him: composing music and having children. At this point he had 12 children, 16 sonatas, numerous cantatas and a dozen fugues. He considered them all his offspring and he wanted more of all of it. When his piano could no longer express his inner desires, he simply recreated it. He perfected the black keys. That was only one of his gifts to future generations.

The chaos of hearing his wife in labor fueled his compulsion to create uniformity with sonic vibrations. He couldn't separate one from the other. He also couldn't ignore the power of labor contractions - involuntary, endless cramping before the birth. It was mandatory to never waste an idle moment. Just when he had you lulled by a quiet passage, he could toss in a nefarious G sharp minor - a contraction.

His first wife, Maria bore him 7 children before her death. Then came Anna who bore 13 more. Childbirth was the resonating "sub-text" to his intense musical scores.

"I know he has no concern for me as an individual woman." Anna told me. "He spends his free time trying out some new octet with the guys at the coffee house. He prefers their company to mine. He also prefers his own genious to human love, but I must need him for all of that."

"He's a good father and teacher for your children, Anna." I said.

"Yes. And I often feel buried by it all. The only time he spares for me is when he's impregnating me. Then he's off being a genious."

"Think, Woman. You mustn't feel bitter." I said, "The sacrifices you are making will inspire thousands of composers in the future."

"If only they understood that my physical fatigue is only relived by listening to his sublime music. I'm just as much a part of this as he is."

"Now, now, Anna. Johann's waiting. Breathe deeply and push!"

giraffe

Some accounts list her as Anna Magdalena Wilcke. Only 6 out of 13 survived to adulthood. Sign of the times - early 1700s