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Friday, October 15, 2010

favorite things @ Small Stories and Stuff

it’s six word fridays time again, and for a change, i’m showing up on time. melissa at "Making Things Up" gives us a prompt each friday and with it we may use only six words to say what we want - or, and this is what i usually do - write a poem or essay using only six words per line. this week’s prompt is “favorite things,” so here goes............



funny crooked smiles------sweet puppy breath

angelic baby faces------pink awareness ribbons

verdant spring lawns------crisp autumn days

old people laughing------young people playing

rich chocolate truffles------ruffled linen blouses

incandescent light bulbs------warm summer sun

tender loving kisses------our angels unaware

every beatles song------wind chimes singing

timeless vintage dresses------fresh cut grass

happy intact families------secrets kept secret

innocent baby kittens------grandmas in swimsuits

new eye make-up------wal-mart super stores

green-eyed men------my two dogs

simple country food------all my readers

If I had a hammer...@ Small Stories and Stuff

well, it’s thursday night, and i’m just getting around to my favorite meme, saturday centus. as most of you know, each week jenny matlock over at off on my tangent provides us with a prompt, from which we create a story - or poem - of 100 words or less, not counting the prompt. you may use the prompt anywhere in the piece, but it must remain intact. to join in, just click on the saturday centus link above or use the button my sidebar.

this week’s prompt? “if i had a hammer.....”

why, i cannot say, but this prompt gives me trouble here’s my best shot. you will find the prompt in italics.



If I had a hammer, I could fix this,” Jane declared to the empty room, staring disgustedly at the bent door jamb . “Blast those movers. Scratched my piano while they were at it.”

Jane, of course, did have a hammer, somewhere in the stacks of boxes in the garage, piled so high she could not reach them without climbing on a ladder.

“I told them it was just me, to stack them low. cretins!”

Running her hand through her hair, she thought, “Best I can’t find the hammer, I’d just take it over to The Cheater’s house and bash him in the head with it.”

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Fantasy @ Small Stories and Stuff

six word fridays - 10/09/10

DISCLAIMER: writing today with cast on right wrist and hand so ‘scuse the lack of form - please

okay, okay. broke my wrist while out dancing with some crazy friends the other night - doing the twist down low - lost my balance and caught myself on right wrist - three cracked bones and a bright pink breast cancer awareness cast!

now, back to the business at hand. melissa, mistress of six word fridays, has chosen “fantasy” for our prompt this week. as usual i am late to the party, but here goes:




fantasy


feeling pretend feelings in my heart

anticipating dreams waiting to come true

needing to escape the real world

to write stories in my head

and watch them grow, become sure

solid and emerge from the mist

you all know as my mind



© cj Schlottman

Thursday, October 7, 2010

"A 30 Sentence Kid In The Front Row Story, by 28 Authors."

I've been tagged! Now this is an interesting concept. Kat at Emptynester created a meme started by The Kid in the Front Row which is called "A 30 Sentence Kid In The Front Row Story, by 28 Authors." Want to see the rules? Click here.

Basically, the "Kid" starts and ends the story. The rest of us complete it one sentence at a time. So without further ado, here is my contribution at #12. I am honored to have been tagged by my friend Jeff Campbell at Mississippi Mud Bug, and I am tagging Sue at Sue's News, Views 'n Muse to contribute sentence #13.

1. Jane never expected to visit Belarus, but it was the only possible solution after what had happened.

2. Her lonely planet guide had advised her that it was a great place for birdwatching- so she packed her binoculars- Todd would have been proud, had he not been lying in a coma.

3. Poor Todd; Jane remembered the incident so well: he had spotted a rare long-whiskered owlet, had ran out into the street to snap a photo, and had thusly been hit by an ice cream truck.


4. Except the ice cream truck was actually a roasted salmon!


5. Upon seeing this strange occurrence, a Portuguese fisherman who happened to be standing on the other side of the street (and who was also, coincidentally, the resident expert on salmon) ran to scene and called 911, prompting Todd's speedy - albeit smelly - rescue.

6. Naturally, Jane was distraught over the entire salmon/ice-cream truck affair , moreover considering that she was the one who had wanted the photo of that owlet; they were both avid birdwatchers, but she was particularly fond of the owlet.

7. She had gone off owlets since then, and as she checked into the little hotel by the river, she wondered if she could find solace in the azure tit, a beautiful bird that, while easily spotted and hardly rare, at least had a name that sometimes made her giggle.

8. Surrounded by beautiful little azure tits as she wrote in her journal to un-bird-en herself of thoughts of fish, and fowl, and Todd (who was slowly recovering, and would join her soon); and as room service arrived with her vegetarian plate; her phone vibrated, signaling a text....

9. Alas, the careful study of azure tits would have to wait as an urgent text message from the manager of the treatment center where Todd was hospitalized informed her that something truly extraordinary was happening to him

10. Please return to hospital stat - patient awake, agitated, requesting nurse to masticate and regurgitate his dinner - wings noted sprouting from back, need your expertise in birds ASAP!

11. When I returned to the hospital and Todd's room, I was shocked to find that his nurse was a female member of The Blue Man Group.

12. She had a bowl of Froot Loops soaking in milk dyed blue and was layering them carefully on Todd's wings, feathering them smoothly while intermittently tossing handsful of the colorful orbs against the wall and screaming the lyrics to Blue Bayou and muttering "Great Blue Heron, oh, Great Blue Heron."

13.

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30. The three of them left as quickly as they could and vowed never to return again, especially if Jane was in town.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Pumpkins

Can you believe it? I'm posting my Saturday Centus on Sunday! Most of you know the rules, but if you need a tutorial, check out the Saturday Centus button on my sidebar. This week, Jenny changed things up a bit by giving us a photo for our prompt. I like the concept. Good on you, Jenny, for thinking it up! Also, don't fail to to visit Jenny Matlock's very cool blog, Off On My Tangent.




Pumpkins @ Small Stories and Stuff - 10/03/10




Golden soldiers in slack formation
wait to be loaded, packed into trucks
carted to markets, fall festivals,
to be inspected, chosen or not
for bundling into minivans for
the trip to death row, the carving knife
waiting on the kitchen counter.

Cut them, gut them, bake them into pies.
Purée the pulp to polished pudding
spiced with cinnamon, sugar of brown.
Bake them in crunchy crusts with sugared
rims, slice them into silken servings,
flavor of fall.

Or make them jack-’o-lanterns, creepy
as clowns, eerie carved-out orange orbs
candle flames flickering through triangled
eyes, snaggle-toothed grins, freaky frowns.


© cj Schlottman

Friday, October 1, 2010

For the Record @ Small Stories and Stuff

10/01/10 - Six Word Fridays

Well, for the first time in a long time, I am on time for Six Word Fridays! This week’s prompt from Melissa’s great Friday writing exercise is for the record. We participants may use just six words to express what the prompt means to us, or, as I usually do, we can write a poem using six-word lines. Click on Melissa’s name above to get all the rules and join in. You’ll like it here.



My Contribution:


For the record, if there were
no record, we would all have
nothing to report or to dispute
or to agree with or not.

For the record, my record may
not match yours or your neighbor’s.
We may see the same thing
and not see it the same
at all, no, not at all.

For the record, records are made
to be broken or at least
cracked or weakened so a breaking
is possible and a new one
stationed atop the world of records.

For the record, I am sixty-two
and refuse to act my age
and wear sensible shoes, opting instead
for cute little heels with pointy
toes that peek from the hems
of my “Not Your Daughter’s Jeans.”

For the record, I just cooked
the most incredible pot of shrimp
risotto with red pepper flakes and
a touch of honey just for
me and my girlfriends - no men.

For the record, I plan to
spend Sunday afternoon in my bed
with my friends and drink wine
and eat snacks and watch TV
shows just for girls like us.

For the record, my life is
good and filled with love and
craziness and a zany man-friend
who holds the record of being
the craziest person I ever knew.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Happy Birthday @ Small Stories and Stuff

Here I am again, late, very late to Saturday Centus. After missing last week altogether, I did catch up on all the posts from last week, so now I can write my own for this week and begin to read yours.

The rules are simple, but in case you’re new to Jenny Matlock’s brain child, just click on her name in the first paragraph to learn the rules. There is also a button on my sidebar that will take you to her,


This week’s prompt is, "He never dreamed when he blew out the candles on his cake..." After a lengthy shopping trip a few days ago, I am keenly tuned into the obesity in our population. More than half the people I encountered were significantly overweight and many held the hands of rotund kids. These people are killing themselves and creating a legacy of illness and early death for their children, and it worries me. So, forgive my rather moribund take on this prompt. The prompt is in bold italics.


He never dreamed when he blew out the candles on his cake that the room would grow dim, he would feel the weight on an elephant on his chest and collapse into his chair, sucking air and wondering if he where were dying.

“Call 911 and get him an aspirin,” his mother screeched in horror.

He opened his eyes to a circle of concerned faces, wishing he had the breath to tell them to back away and stop stealing his air.

Paramedics moved him to a stretcher, gave him some oxygen and carted him to the bus to stabilize him.

“How many candles on that cake?”

“26.”

“No pulse. Let’s get busy.”