7. Attractancy (n)) the capacity of, especially of a pheromone, to attract)
The scrap rose colored cloth dangles from the swinging branch. The courtyard, place of treasured folly, teases me to proceed. The razor of attractancy strikes like a bolt from the blue. The perturbation dances with the pleasing thrill of the chase.
My foot falls toward the inevitable.
This week’s photo prompt is provided by H.R.R. Gorman. Thank you H.R.R.!
“Do not let Brutus in the bathroom.” I stumble through the words. Remembering how slow and clearly Alicia spoke then to me. “Do not let Brutus in the bathroom.”
The stringy feline rubs against my leg. He cries as he runs a figure eight around me. Apparently he wants me to admire his labor of love. I’m trying to think of where to start cleaning it all up. Toilet paper strewn under the sheets just adds to the expertise of this animal.
“Brutus! What did you do? She’ll kill me for this!” I pull my hair back with my palm. I wonder how to cover it all up.
He looks up at me and meows. His right paw slightly lifted as if to point out the crime scene.
“Delirium, you simple haven take up residence upon Elysian fields.” Hyacinth snorts in her insidious way. “Please gather those jaded mercurial excuses of yours.”
My eyes pick at her anthracite and wisteria soul. Her mask worn tightly is that of a quixotic pariah. My body language reduced to a transparent silhoute. Inside my kaleidoscope of emotions challenge my lucidity. I long to lash out in ciphers, the remnants of past fractures. The zenith of my fury is a sigh and yawn.
Still her vicious basilisk eyes pierce my spirit. Her residual boredom plays a requiem upon her xylophone of unkept threats.
“You are horribly jaded.” Her hips snap her elsewhere, placing me back to the ossuary of her world.
*one word from each letter, at least
“The birds. They are toxic!” She yells from her perch above and behind me.
My mind pines to find the faul fowl in question. My eyes catch from whence the chatter originates.
Her expression flies upon her outstretched left wing. Her desperation swopes down like talons.
“Did we not poison the air in which they soar?” I find wind beneath me thoughts. “Did we not poison the water they drink?”
Her hawk like eyes pierce at my gizzard. She frantically struts about her roost. Those eyes never leaving the clutch of her wraith.
“The birds! They are toxic!” Her raven hair flows about her. The fading light of evening paints red feathers within those locks.
“She has been yelling that all day.” The cormorant twists its head back at me. “Robin, her name is Robin.”
I preen my ears. The avian puzzle leaves me nothing to crow about.
The stick sings as it slashes through the air. The promising cut flies passing the machine that strands all that data in digital netherland. I stare yearning for light in the darkness. My mind’s journey talks to me pitching ways to get even with technology.
Exoteric ((adj.) suitable for or communicated to the general public: not belonging, limited, or pertaining to the inner or select circle, as of disciples or intimates: popular, simple, common place
Emulation ((n.) effort or desire to equal or excel others: jealous rivalry)
Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem
The words can appear in an alternate form
Use the words in any order that you like.
Tag: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie and Wordle
“Easement of any edge…” Raul pauses midthought. “Enough of a gap for evil to extract its ethereal control.”
“So exoteric ideas gain entry from afar, elsewhere to exact which emulsion?” Clyde plays along.
“The brain is the only equipment need to erase logic.” Raul is as tired of the political season as the partisan play that accompanys it.
This week’s photo prompt is provided by wildverbs. Thank you Wildverbs!
The orange construction barrel appeared overnight. It immediately became a source of intrigue for the preteen set.
“It’s got a Griffin on it!” Andrew jumps his words out ahead of his bike. He isn’t waiting for others to scoop his news “I think I seen it move!”
“You’re an idiot!” Mack doesn’t turn to address him but stays locked on the other boys. “Ain’t nothing but a barrel.”
Gene leans to the side to look past Mack. “It’s heavy. I tried to push it in the road. It’s got something inside. These guys are scared to move it!”
“You losers can go play in the road. Michael & I are gonna watch old lady Myers beat you with her umbrella again!” Mack commands the group into submission.
“Let’s go Gene. I bet if we open it ….” Andrew catches his breath and turns toward the magical barrel “Something cool is inside.”
The boys watch Andrew rush across the street. He pushes the barrel over.
“Whoa!” Andrew’s final words
Voices become unhinged, bruising my listening ears. Vision fails to match what aches could push nerves to their edges. Nails on chalkboard could never blossom in such a manner. I wish I could remember numb or savor the quiet again.
Sadly the remote is lost
This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yarnspinnerr. Thank you Yarnspinnerr
“None of them match?!” Joseph whispers to Joan.
She scans the rainbow display unfettered.
“The sizes aren’t even together.” Joseph continues.
She homes in a few different ones.
“I mean… This bizarre has all kinds stores.” His voice wavers. “I don’t get why we are here.”
She grabs two golden sandals from from different display boards.
“Are you even listening!” He looks at the side of her smiling face.
“The guy behind the counter is blind but not deaf.” She smiles the married woman smile that translates he is not with me.
The sliver of chain shines. Her face wears disdain by design, while the rest of her dresses to the nines. Secretly, some feign shock but jealousy trains some for the crime afoot.
“My god.. ..she’s not breathing!” Someone tells. The reception grinds to a halt.