From A to Z

Another one of those.

But I don’t mind.

Complaining would be silly.

Dumb even.

Everyone knows why.

For me, this is fun.

Greatest of funs!

Hot delicious topic.

I love alphabet.  

Just see my posts.

Know how many there are?

Lots of them…too many?

My go to where I don’t know what to write.

Never let me down.

On hand when I need it.

Perfect solution.

Questioning everything?

Reasoning with the world?

Start at “A”.

That is a good start. 

Undoubtedly. 

Very sure about that.

What do you say?

Xeroxed idea?

Yes, maybe but not really.

Zip it haters. 

………….

Source: 365 Days of Writing Prompts, July 27

26 sentences. First sentence starts with “A” etc.

It was fun to fit this one in 100 words.

The satisfaction of a list

  1. explore ideas, challenges, writing prompts
  2. pick what could work for you, be it one source or several
  3. will you consider skipping a writing prompt or will you take them as they come?
  4. decide on a format of the posts
  5. will you allow digression from the format if the prompt requires it or will you mould the topic to your format?
  6. how often do you want to post and for how long?
  7. do you want to plan your posts or write them on the spot?
  8. are you ready to start?
  9. pick your first topic.

I have just completed the list above.

Source: 365 Days of Writing Prompts, April 15

Who doesn’t love a list? So write one!

Who doesn’t love a list? So write one!

Start of a new series I guess. It is more of an exercise for me than anything else. A way to get back to the habit of writing. And let’s be real, I need some help with that!

So yes, I have not only written but also completed the above list.

  • I have picked the 365 Days of Writing Prompts as a source material for inspiration.
  • I will skip the topics I am not happy to write about and I will not follow the chronology either, hence the start with April 15. The prompt just made sense for me as a first post.
  • The format will probably change, depending on the writing prompt, but I will keep the word count to exactly 100 words every time.
  • The plan is to post every Friday and I will most likely prepare and schedule ahead (unless the prompt requires something else). I will post as long as I feel like it or as long as I feel I need the practice.

Day 10 [Writing 101]

Clementines, satsumas, mandarines –

one of those small round oranges,

the ones that come with Christmas.

They sit in the big white bowl

surrounding the wise pineapple

or jump over bananas.

The apples are green with envy

for they get all the attention.

Walnuts are trying to get through but

they alway fall through the cracks.

They are the rocks at the bottom of the fruit display.

Ho ho ho

 

~ yeah, hmm, random. I’m not much of a foodie but I do remember the excitement of Christmas when we were allowed the small orange fruit – lets call them satsumas although it might had been mandarines (does anyone know the difference?). Exotic fruit was a short supply commodity in the 80s in the communist countries, especially if you suffered from lack of money as well (which we did). And although we have embraced the advantages of free economy, up to this day I only buy satsumas at Christmas time.

Writing 101 – Day 10

Day 9 [Writing 101]

Dress him in a sweater

   The excitement of the retirement home residents over yet another bingo afternoon left her yearning for a small explosive device. Not that the other activities were more fun. Like this knitting. They knit sweaters for dogs. Dogs! Not orphans, not homeless, not the affected by war. No. They knit for dogs. But at least she can take the needles and yarn with her to the park; it may take few hours before the caretakers notice she’s gone AWOL. She stretches her fingers. Damn arthritis. She wouldn’t mind to be young again for a moment, just like the two lovebirds strolling across the grass. She would pass on the drama of the youth though. That seems to be raised by a notch by each generation. Everything is going down the drain nowadays. Dogs  wear clothes, men are crying and being old gives you the privilege to do what they tell you to do. Back to knitting, we don’t want the damn dogs to freeze.

   I still don’t believe Dukey is gone. My little puppy. I keep thinking about him. I try not to, especially with the cuts at the office. I am so distracted and the work is getting to me. The queen B of a boss is breathing down my neck, terrorising me with her sneaky eyes from 9 to 6. I wish I could retire and sit outside and read, play with dogs or even knit like the old lady on the bench. Is that a little sweater? It’s too little for a baby though. Oh my, so sweet – I think she is making it for a dog. Dukey would look so cute in a red sweater like that. I say that to Tom, but I don’t think he is really listening. I always thought he couldn’t stand Duke, but then he – I can’t think about it. It was such a horrible day. Tom is fidgeting. Is he crying? I would never say he has such a sensitive soul. I squeeze his hand harder and lean on his shoulder to assure him he can count on me.

   He blinks. He double blinks, triple blinks and flutters his eyelids so fast his vision is blurred. The speck of something is still lodged in his eye. His right hand is plastered up to his biceps and his left is trapped in hers. It would be unwise to try to extricate himself. He double blinks again. She keeps talking about the dog. Duke Zuzu Theodore the Third. There never was Duke Zuzu Theodore the First, nor Second for that matter. First class Pomeranian. First class yapping pom pom more likely. He was squashed under the wheels of the neighbour’s car two weeks ago along with his stupid heroic arm that tried to grab him out of harm’s way. She is still upset about it. Although it’s not a surprise that the mongrel ran off on the road. His eyes starts to water. Blink. Blink. How can I get this thing out of my eye? Triple blink.

Writing 101 – Day 9

Day 8 [Writing 101]

Wednesday. Lunch break. The day of the food market. The windswept passageways of the architectonic disaster also known as One New Change are flooded with hunters and gatherers. 15 minutes wait for a paella is not worth of my time. 15 minutes of waiting for anything is not worth of my time. The dog must have eaten his wristwatch; mine commands exact 12:46. Second date has ceased to be a romantic encounter for me and I start scripting a dump-fest in my head.

I spot him at the Portuguese stand being swallowed by the chorizo lovers. It would appear he has forgotten to sharpen his elbows today. He struggles to manoeuvre through the gaps; an elephant trapped in a glass labyrinth would be more elegant. 12:51 and I’m faced with a rumpled suit and sweat patches. His mouth is opening and closing so he must be vomiting an apology but I am distracted by the small drop trickling down his left cheek. It is almost at his chin. I don’t wait for it to fall.

 

Writing 101 – Day 8

 

Day 7 [Writing 101]

 

”Stop wiggling, would you?”

”Only if you get OFF MY BACK!’

”We have been over this zillion times already my dear. I am the head therefore am on the top.”

”Just because you are the head it doesn’t mean you get to choose!”

”Sure it does sweet cheeks. Of course butt like you could never understand this. Well it is not entirely surprising as you do not have a brain and therefore lack in th—”

”I’M NOT A BUTT – I AM A TAIL!’

”Tail, butt, ass – same difference”

”Did you just…you…how dare you…you, you…”

”Trouble expressing yourself?”

”Aaaargh. You are soooo….”

”Please honey,  calm down and go to sleep. Shall I sing something to you? And PLEASE stop the wiggling already.”

”That wasn’t me.”

”You’re the tail. You wiggle.”

”It wasn’t ME. It was him.”

”Oh.”

”I think we are going out.”

”You can’t think, you don’t hav—”

”Whatever. I’m right. We are going to fly. And maybe this time I will land on the top.”

”In your dreams.”

”He’s gonna flip it.”

”No he’s not and anyway brainless ass in charge? Not on my wa—”

”Here we goooo!”

‘—–aaaaaaatch!”

 

coin-pound-uncirculated-big

Writing 101 – Day 7

_______

Source

Day 4 [Writing 101]

I have lost many things, some of them of monetary value but I can’t think of one that would mean anything significant to me now. I had my heart broken and felt abandoned but I don’t wish to have any of those people back in my life. Sometimes I get lost on my way from point A to point B but for me it is an opportunity to unexpectedly discover new corners of the world.  Often I get lost in my head, losing track of time and touch with reality. Don’t even get me started on how many times I have lost the plot. I am losing memories, the good and the bad, but that is normal brain behaviour and I need to accommodate the new ones somewhere. I lost a competition and I lost a race but this only made me more determined and made me work harder.

Somehow I have never lost my keys or my ID. But I am losing my patience quite often. Usually followed by loss of temper. I would rather lose the keys but keep the cool head.