Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “loud.” Find any word that means “loud,” and use it any way you’d like in your post. Enjoy!
How appropriate for this loud season. I am often struck by the dichotomy of serene quiet snow covered landscapes and the blaring loud displays of the holidays. Yikes. Well, to each their own. I know this poem starts with a rhyming pattern and then stops but c’mon it’s stream of consciousness, not polished. 😉
People rushing through the store Loud decorations glaring Loud holiday music blaring hopelessly searching for something to make their Christmas perfect
Mindlessly seeking like water running in tiny streamlets freely flowing across the asphalt parking lot Deafened by the loudness of the season
they never even paused did not see, or hear the quiet the beauty of a tiny flower struggling toward the light from a crack in the sidewalk
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “key.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!
The Key to Her Success
The skinny little wretch sat there on the barstool, mocking me.
“Oh the key to my dieting success? I just forget to eat sometimes.” She said it calmly while scarfing down an order of wings with blue cheese and one of those silly froo-froo cocktails with enough sugar to put someone like me into a coma.
I may have rolled my eyes just a little while she polished off the double order of grease and goo. I mean honestly, forget to eat? Really? Lady you gotta be some kind of stupid to forget to eat.
Now I’m in my 60’s, and I’ve forgotten a LOT of things. I’ve forgotten the budget report the day I was supposed to present it to the board of directors. I’ve forgotten my keys, forgotten where I parked my car (once when I was at home). I’ve forgotten my parents anniversary, I’ve forgotten my own anniversary. I’ve forgotten my children’s names, I’ve forgotten my purse, my phone, my bra (yeah let’s not dwell on that one). I’ve forgotten to unplug the iron, I’ve forgotten how the heck to open that stupid child-proof zip lock bag and had to get my grandson to help me. But never, ever, not once, have I forgotten to EAT.
“You don’t look bad honey, you should just get so busy you forget all about eating for awhile.”
I smiled my best Monalisa smile, snatched the last wing off the plate, chugged the last of my light beer and belched. “Sorry girlfriend, just won’t work.”
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “shade.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!
Shades of Magic
The graveyard was old and dark. No bright monuments or flowers festooned a new graves, dark and dreary as the night. Star followed Meldimeriel, the tiny fairy bobbing a bit ahead casting the only light in the gloom. In a unkempt section of the cemetery, they came to their destination. A simple soldier’s grave, centuries old untended, the meager headstone crumbled and decayed beyond recognition. Naught left for a marker but an ancient sword thrust into the ground, topped by an old helmet.
Meldimeriel bobbed up and down in excitement. They had found the grave they sought. Star gently laid her bow, quiver, and staff aside, pulling smaller items from the pockets of her cloak, herbs, salt, a small silver pentacle. With a sprinkling of herbs and salt, Star cast her circle, closing it with a whisper of magic. Raising her pentacle overhead, she whispered her chant.
From the grave a sullen grey mist slowly rose, hesitantly coalescing into a vaguely human form. The shade glared balefully at Star with a booming mutter “Release me.”
“I have questions,” Star replied, respectfully nodding to the ancient shade.
“ASK!” boomed the disembodied voice.
Star scuffed the circle with her boot disbursing the protective magic. She would meet the shade on his own ground. Gathering her courage, she stepped out of the circle.
Dan is filling in for Linda for the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, many thanks Dan and Linda, hope you’re having an awesome time. Here is out prompt for this week
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “ent” “ten” “net.” Use one, use two or use all three (bonus points for using two, double-bonus points for using all three). As Linda would say, use ’em any way you’d like. Enjoy!
It was a grand day for a hunt, Mollifett thought. The rain was gentle and coming straight down dampening the bed of moldering leaves that carpeted the forest floor. The hunting party already held ten quail in the transport net suspended from the floatiferator which hovered silently behind the hunting party.
Mollifett felt very grand on her Carousello Horse, with it’s shining rose gold wings and delicate amber mane. The Carousello Horses were the work of the great designer Dr. Thaddeus Barklay their automatronic structure was so like a live horse as to be indistinguishable but for their exquisite faery appearance. It was a lovely time to be in forest of Shershire. Soon they would find a stag or boar and head back to the castle for the feast.
As her friends and ladies followed along, Mollifett boldly took the lead. Ahead she saw movement, a large animal among the trees. Cautiously it appeared from behind the trees, wreathed in an ephemeral mist, Mollifett realized with a start that it was a Leorsoolee, a Snow Stag. She sat quite entranced until the spell was broken by the sharp twang of a bow string.
Sometimes life comes along and gently raps you on the forehead saying “pay attention.” Other times it grabes a 2×4 and shouts “CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW!” The later has been my life of late (you can read all about it here).
While I certainly have not anticipated or enjoyed the changes brought on by this crisis, let me tell you it has changed us in some ways for the better. You never appreciate something or someone quite so much as when you suddenly realize that you are in imminent danger of losing said person or thing. Suddenly that daily routine you took for granted becomes an acre of diamonds that you know will hold all the riches you could ever hope for, if you could just get it back.
The magical mundanities of daily life, those cherished brushes of hand and lip, the occasional frustration that comes with the comingling of lives, these too are precious.
My life has been a series of glorious triumphs and disastrous failures all wrapped up with the shining ribbon of hope.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “instructions.” Write instructions for anything you know how to do. As detailed or as rambling as you’d like. Enjoy!
I find myself wishing there were instructions for how to navigate the hydrodynamics of chronic illness. Alas, with no directions, illustrations, or instructions to say “insert tab A into slot B” we must negotiate the sometimes treacherous twists and turns based on our own research, the winnowing of advice from others, and often our own gut instinct.Continue reading “Spoonie Instructions – Stream of Consciousness Saturday”→