Friday, August 20, 2010

Weekly Wordzzle - The Humorless Edition


Lookit! I actually did three stories this week! Unfortunately I didn't feel all that humorous apparently, but you can't get everything all the time.

The mini: wine, plundered, signifying, river, survivor

A day by the river is as heady as wine. As a survivor of the rat race I appreciate this stolen day when I could be doing something more productive. The sun dips below the horizon, signifying the end of the magic. Sighing, having plundered all the riches this day had to offer, I head for home.


The 10-worder: rocks, rip this joint, casino, tumbling dice, frayed, angel, cup, on the run, ventilator, face

Her nerves frayed & her hands trembling, Angel placed her cup gingerly on the table. Only a little of the water sloshed over the edge. She wished she'd been able to get scotch on the rocks instead, but the hospital cafeteria didn't offer liquor on the menu. Imagine that. Hiding in the cafeteria gave her a sense of being on the run from reality, a reality she wasn't sure she could face just now. The ventilator on that beloved face. The incessant beeping. The knowledge that this was the end of the road. She'd spent most of her life tumbling dice in a casino – where was her luck now? Where was his? Suddenly, she was horrifyingly angry. So angry that she felt she could rip this joint apart without even breaking a sweat. Just as suddenly, the anger was gone. In its place was an emptiness she didn't want to examine too closely. Sighing, she finished her water and headed to the elevator bank. On the way up she'd practice her best smile for her best guy.


The Mega: rocks, rip this joint, casino, tumbling dice, frayed, angel, cup, on the run, ventilator, face, wine, plundered, signifying, river, survivor

The Survivor watched from the shadows, his face hidden while people entered & exited the casino. He hadn't expected to end up here, on this night, watching this door, when he'd first gone looking for justice. On the run, really, hiding from those who wished him harm. He was no angel. The thought made him laugh so hard inside he almost made a sound. Almost. Gotta keep quiet and keep watching the door. When it opened he could hear the sound of a wine-soaked, vodka on the rocks, tumbling dice good time. When it shut he could hear the sound of his shallow breathing and the cars on the road a few feet away.

Then the white limousine pulled to the door, signifying that his vigil was almost over. Delia was leaving the casino. With his evidence. Quickly and quietly he started toward the white car, planning to slip inside while the chauffer was on the other side. Mick and the boys were singing, "Rip this Joint" as the casino door opened. Delia seemed a little worse for wear – frayed around the edges – as she minced toward the chauffer. She always did wear heels too high for the bit of grace she possessed. The giant shoulder bag seemed out of place with the slinky evening wear, but then again, he wasn't the fashion police. As long as that bag held the evidence he needed to prove his innocence.

He hadn't plundered the casino accounts. He was no embezzler. What he was, was framed. But the Survivor would not slink off into the night. He would work until every last one of his enemies was looking up at him from a hospital bed, breathing through a ventilator, with terror filled eyes. Forcing himself to calm down, he silently opened the car door & slid inside. Delia let out a small gasp when she got in the car, automatically reaching for the small gun in her bag before she recognized him. She put out a hand to cup his face and smiled with triumph right before she pulled the trigger.

Gasping, the Survivor awoke from the nightmare. His old bones creaked as he rose from the bed to sit in his one chair, dropping his head in his hands. He never had avenged those old wrongs. His love for Delia and that damned dream kept him chained to the past. He knew he was a coward, but he would never know if she would have betrayed him. He didn't want to know. What was beyond the bend in the river was always going to be just that – beyond.

You should go to Raven's blog to read the other Wordzzle participants. And join in – it can be addictive!

7 comments:

  1. Congrats on doing all three. I especially liked your second story. It had such truth to it. Poor Survivor... Well done! Nice mini.

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  2. Well done one doing all three - that's quite an achievement! I agree with Raven, my favourite story was the 10-worder, it had a powerful poignancy to it :)

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  3. Loved these! I'm on the bandwagon with #2- you nailed that feeling that is somewhere between dread and bravery when a loved one is seriously ill or injured. The put-on-a-face feeling.

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  4. Three different delicious flavours this week, kiudos! You mini was a lovely miniature. I can relate to the second story, having been exactly there and really enjoyed the tension and drama of the third one. Top stuff!

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  5. i liked the third story a lot - very tense and well written. A nice departure for you

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  6. Three! Congrats. I loved the first one the best.

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  7. Dear The Bug,
    Wow, you did a great job with all three. Each one different.

    The second one speaks straight to me. I know that one. And you've captured it perfectly.

    The third one I also really like, because it's almost like a film. I love the description of Delia--it captures her so well! And The Survivor too. And ironically, the survival is only partial, huh.

    Very thought-provoking.
    Sorry I didn't write in earlier!
    I love all three of these.

    Ann T.

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Thanks for stopping by - I'd love to hear what you have to say!

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