FFAW – Interesting Display

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.

92 words

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Sunday Whirl – Sudden End

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.

What’s on the Wall?

Welcome to Week 137 of Three Line Tales.

three line tales, week 137: an abandoned asylum
photo by Nathan Wright via Unsplash

“No one had been able to see the house since the previous owner passed away.” Sheila opens the door for the Bailey’s.

“What happened to them?” Bill ponders as the daylight enters.

“Sudden heart attack and he was relatively young.” Sheila answers.

FFAW – Dreary Start

This week’s photo prompt is provided by wildverbs. Thank you wildverbs!

The alarm can not remove the mental cobwebs. I shake myself and reach for caffeine inspired cure. My mood seems to melt into the dreary outside. A surely chill finds my back. This was the day of change I promised myself.

I am too old for sudden change. My mind is circumspect to my desire for new paths. Restlessness seems cozy in this grey slimy day. I stare at the door leading me to that sudden change. It seems further away than normal.

Heroic efforts get me upright.

“I have this in me, I know it. I’ll charge through that door” my pep talk does wonders for my weary soul.

I open the door. The grey spills into my face like a cold wet kiss. My energy tries to crash and burn. I realize I have forgotten to dress accordingly.

We will try this again.

145 words

Wordle – Shut In

Week 199

Potatoes
Scrimshank ((v.) to avoid one’s obligations/duties; to shirk)
Malign
Review
Operation
Larder
Cellmate
Mail
Torporific (n.)) causing lethargy)
Negligible
Panting
Martyr
—————————————————————————-

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

My cellmate calls me a martyr. I review the larder’s contents, empty save small potatoes. I despise scrimshanking despite my obvious negligible position. I look over my shoulder at the much malign reflection staring back at me.

Restlessness in my lack of operation still leaves me panting. My thoughts mail letters of torporific passages. For want of motivation my home turned prison.

FFAW – Child’s Play

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Yarnspinnerr. Thank you Yarnspinnerr

“Do you want to play a game?” Her little eyes flash as she waves fat pencil & paper.

“Sure.” I hide my grimace from little niece “How about we teach you a new game, Bella?”

She smiles “What makes you think you can win if we change games?”

I look at her amid a half hearted smile. She doesn’t know it’s a game you can’t win.

“Yeah, you’re really good at this one.” I lie like we sprayed like to children. So they may believe they can do anything.

89 words

Wordle – Lasso Saloon

Bonus Wild West

Saloon
Cactus Wine ((n.) made with tequila and peyote)
Holster
Outlaw
Spurs
Lasso
Hang
Frontier
Victuals or Vittles (n.)) food supplies, provisions)
Churlish ((adj.) rude)
Gunslinger
Lawman
—————————————————————————-

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

The Lasso Saloon rumbles with a cacophony of voices and string music. My ears perk up at the jingle of spurs. I try to guess the identity. Is it outlaw, lawman or random gunslinger?

I pour another shot of cactus wine. I hang the glass up to drip dry. My right hand feels for my holster. I feign ignorance to the sound.

The slam of my vittles on the table makes me jump. The curlish wench storms away.

The old west fades to tourist trap. I sigh and pull good toward me.

Sunday Whirl – Way to the Top

Low and tight, I grab at tree roots. My simple gravel path trimmed to a knife’s edge. My eyes caught a climb away from vertigo inspiring view. A stomach in knots, joins other spreading pains like gingham pattern.

I grab a branch to rise, only to receive a pine scented water spray when it slips slowly away.

FFAW- They were French Fries

This week’s photo prompt is provided by wildverbs. Thank you wildverbs for our photo prompt!

“There’s a funny stone over here!” Derrick yells across Meadowhaven Gardens.

Julia grimaces his direction. She keeps thumbing through the guidebook. “What’s the point of reading about these people? You are jumping from place to place. These are real stories of what happened to these people. It’s so cool to think…”

“Hey, you got to see this one!” Derrick grows louder as if to wake the dead.

“Coming!” Julia finds row 15 in the book. “What’s the last name? …. Never mind I found it. Reginald Foster. He had heart attack while eating on Pier 9. His last words immortalized as ‘They were French fries!'”

104 words