Sunday, December 29, 2013

Greener Grass

Today's prompt words in bold.

He rode the white mechanical rodeo bull in his basement, his head teasing the ceiling with each lunge. Aching muscles helped him see through his current life’s fog. The argument had been the same, another long day at work, another missed event, another reason for him to drift off to a wistful time and place.

Sunday, December 15, 2013


Today's prompt words in bold.

Emma had waited in the wine shop for a rendezvous that never materialized. She tilted her glass, sipped. The liquid tasted brackish, earthy. 

She thought they had something, a spark, a magnetic attraction. The goblet on the opposite side of the table waited too. She tipped it over, let the wine spill over the edge.

Sunday, December 8, 2013


Some decisions aren’t black or white. I understand that. Sometimes it’s what you believe in, like heaven and hell. To some they don't exist. For others, they give meaning to life. It's not even a matter of conservative vs liberal. There are always two sides. Fat and skinny. Ugly vs pretty. Smart or dumb.

Anyway, here I kneel, as nervous as a dog with severe separation anxiety, my bent knee aching, my back stiffening, anticipating her answer. If she takes much longer, I may not be able to stand. How embarrassing it will be if she has to help me up. 

It's probably only been a few seconds, but it feels like I'm in a doctor's waiting room. What's wrong? Why hasn't she responded?

Well, she is shaking, and her hands are over her mouth, and there are tears in her eyes. Maybe she responded and I didn't hear it. Maybe it was a curse word. Maybe her mouth locked shut. Maybe she swallowed her tongue. Maybe she's having a heart attack. Maybe I should have waited.

“Yes. Yes, I'll marry you." She bends down and kisses me, a wisp of gray hair tickles my cheek, and I feel relief. "When should I move in?"

What? Move in? With me? I didn't say anything about living together before we got married. It's too soon for that. We've only known each other for a few months. What's her hurry? Come on, Jack, think of something. OMG. What now? Like I said, not all decisions are black or white.