Ramblings of a Young Mama

Wednesday, February 05, 2014

Rogue?

Did I need something new to get the creative juices flowing? Yes, I think so. Haha!

I've stumbled upon another interesting writing prompt blog. This one is called Three Word Wednesday, or 3WW for short. You can find this week's post here. Basically, every week there are three new words to use in any way you see fit. This week the words are as follows:

Accelerate; verb: [no object] (of a vehicle or other physical object) begin to move more quickly; increase in amount or extent; adjective (accelerating): go faster.

Passive; adjective: accepting or allowing what happens or what others do, without active response or resistance; chemistry (of a metal) made unreactive by a thin inert surface layer of oxide; (of a circuit or device) containing no source of electromotive force;  (of radar or a satellite) receiving or reflecting radiation from a transmitter or target rather than generating its own signal; relating to or denoting heating systems that make use of incident sunlight as an energy source.


Rogue;
 noun: a dishonest or unprincipled man; a person whose behavior one disapproves of but who is nonetheless likable or attractive (often used as a playful term of reproof; [usually as modifier] an elephant or other large wild animal driven away or living apart from the herd and having savage or destructive tendencies; a person or thing that behaves in an aberrant, faulty, or unpredictable way; an inferior or defective specimen among many satisfactory ones, especially a seedling or plant deviating from the standard variety.

I thought maybe a poem was in order for this post. Here goes nothing.

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I am usually quite passive.
You, my friend, are massive.

A rogue and deceitful man.
With a daunting master plan.

You have sealed your fate.
For I must now accelerate.

No others will be duped.
My car is being looped.

Now you may rest in peace.
Your actions, they will cease.

Tuesday, February 04, 2014

I hope she's worth it.

I'm back with another Trifecta post and this one has been a struggle for me. When I was done writing I had 525 words and didn't have anything I wanted to take out. Since I didn't have a choice, that's part of the challenge, I've spent the last hour removing things, and plugging it into Word Count Tool, to make it meet the 333 word limit!

Anywho, you can find this week's post here.

This week's one-word prompt was MANIPULATE. The third definition says "to change by artful or unfair means so as to serve one's purpose : to doctor." With 333 words, I give you "I hope she's worth it."

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She watched him manipulate himself for the skinny thing that approached the table. Smiling, he stands and pulls the chair out so she can join him. I'm disgusted. She melts. They appear to be very familiar. Is she the reason he is "too busy" for lunch dates with me? I want to move closer, but first I need to snap some pictures.

I enter the diner, and try not to be seen. I'm seated at a booth a few tables away. I can see them, but they haven't noticed me. He's looking at her as if he's in love. He used to look at me that way. Where did the love go?

They finish lunch and he pays the bill, like he's a gentleman. He stands from his chair and moves to help her. Reaching for her hand, he places his other on the small of her back.  She stands and he escorts her out. I feel physically ill watching this unravel before me. Where do I go from here?

I sit in my car, numb, pondering my next move and decide the pictures need to be handled before I go home. Starting the car, I pull into traffic and make my way to get prints. With pictures in hand, I sit in the lot deciding what to do. My cell rings. It's him. Hesitantly, I answer. He tells me he's going to be stuck at work until midnight. Rage floods my body. He's lying again. I'm no longer sick to my stomach. Now I just want to punch something, or someone.

I make it home in record time and start a fire in the pit. Room by room, I empty his items into bags and drag them out back. Two hours later I'm done, and it's time for me to put pictures where his belongings were. With a margarita in hand I sit in the backyard, waiting, watching his chapter of my life go up in flames.

I hope she's worth it.