Writing prompt from Dancing mermaid: Now is the time

Now is the time. Not a moment later. Let’s get in the car and go and drive until something catches our fancy and then stop and stay for however long. Let’s find a place that has a merry go round and ride it just for fun. Let’s eat some sort of foreign food where you sit on the floor and use your fingers. Or go somewhere for lunch and just order appetizers and desserts – a whole table full.
Let’s buy a hundred butterflies – like people do for weddings – and let them loose in the living room with all the windows and doors wide open and watch them fly free. Let’s share a banana split out in the spring air, field a field of wild flowers and walk through it.
Let’s go to the mall and find a pet store and hold the bunnies. Eat too many gummy bears and then go into a store with funny hats and try them all on while taking pictures. Let’s run down the ramps and laugh too loud so people look at us.
Let’s go to the grocery store and see who can fill their cart up the fastest with foods that contain all the letters of the alphabet, playing hide and seek, hollering Marco Polo up and down the aisles.
Let’s get all dressed up in our fancy clothes and go someplace we wouldn’t … spend an indecent amount of money on food and drink and then dance under the stars out somewhere away from the crowds to the music on the radio.
Let’s go ice skating in the middle of the summer and then drink hot chocolate because we’re cold and afterwards go swimming because its 106. Let’s shoot off fireworks, have waffles and ice cream for supper, go out and watch a movie at midnight. Let’s stay up all night playing games and watching movies and then watch the sunrise and afterwards let’s sleep all day and pretend we’re living the life of rock stars.
Let’s sit on the back porch and blow bubbles and drink fresh pink lemonade. Let’s put up a hammock in the shade, a big one so we can both lay there and read and nap together.
Let’s do it. Now is the time.

Sarah's prompt: There was never any need to explain

There was never any need to explain. They always understood what the other was saying long before the thought, or sentence, or story was finished. No one else understood of course, and that could never be explained. It seemed that despite their best efforts, others around them were constantly shaking their heads disapprovingly. What difference did it make? But often it seemed they seemed to enjoy each other’s company far too much and no one could figure it out.
In very short order it seemed there were suspicions, and knowing glances and ah hah’s mentioned. They had to become much more circumspect in their meetings. No more jumping to the other’s defense. Their support and encouragement for one another had to be tempered. They began to be careful about mentioning the other and even in a crowded room were careful not to stand too close together or laugh too loud at the other’s joke. Even that wasn’t enough to satisfy the gossipers, so finally they met only in a crowd and their conversations were about the weather and golf. At least so it seemed.
What no one knew of course was that every word had two meanings. One day as they casually mentioned to each other a string of upcoming sunny days and a great opportunity to get in a really good game of golf. The entire conversation taking place at the dinner table amongst family and friends with most of the grown ups concurring that yes rumor had it that the weather was turning for the better most likely on the following Thursday or possibly Friday. As suspected the weather did change Thursday afternoon. Of course in Tahiti, its always warm and sunny, especially that Thursday and the two of them; well there was never any need to explain.

whispers ...

when i'm alone
i whisper
no one can hear me out here alone ...
even if i were to raise my voice
long and loud
but some things are meant
only
for whispers and murmurs

there are hints ...
louder than words
but
since so few speak the language
they don't catch the meaning
and only are awaare of the noise
or see decorations.

so i whisper ...
and smile
and murmur
alone.

can you hear me?

Things amiss

I didn’t really think of it as much of anything at all. Honestly what is significant about forgetting where the car is parked? Lucky for me all I needed to do was push that little alarm thingy and oh there it is, right next to the woman who looks like I’ve scared the crap out of here. I smile and wave, hopefully in what appears to be an apologetic manner, while trying not to laugh out loud.
The thing was, I was in a hurry to leave, so it didn’t really register at the time. It was later that I remembered I had had to readjust the seat when I got back into the car. I mentioned it to Jeffrey but he was in his paper and really barely heard me at all. He mumbled something about, perhaps hitting the button on my way out of or into the car and it seemed somewhat plausible but still.
Three days later, I put down my reading glasses next to my book when I went to go answer the phone. Upon my return they were not there and though I searched high and low I couldn’t find them anywhere. Just getting a little forgetful was Jeffrey’s response when I told him but I was certain, dead certain, that I had put them next to my cup on the end table.
“You didn’t move them did you?”
He looked at me as if to say what could you be thinking, but merely asked, “Me?”
“I’m sorry, never mind.”
Nothing else happened for several days and I had begun to think that perhaps he was right when the weather turned cold. I went to get my beige suede jacket out of the hall closet and it wasn’t there. Now I know it was there. It’s been hanging there all through the summer and early fall. I know because I love the feel of it and brush against it every time I get the vacuum out of the closet but I could not find it.
That’s when I started the list, the list of things amiss. It is possible that I simply forgot where I put the car and did hit the button for the seat, its even possible that I simply mislaid my glasses but the jacket, that I knew for sure had been in the closet and wasn’t now.
“Everything ok dear?” He asked that night before we went to bed. I simply murmured something in his direction but he had seen me biting my nails so he knew I was worried about something.
A week later the bill came from the credit card company. There were three charges that didn’t look familiar. I called the company and it turned out one was from a restaurant and the other two were from retail establishments all on the west end of town, and it seems all on the day that I was fairly certain was the day I had gone to the mall. When I questioned them further and asked to speak with their fraud department they indicated that they had signed slips from all three places and would be happy to forward copies to me.
I called Jeffrey at work then. I was certain that he would agree with me now, that something seriously was up but he seemed unfazed by it all.
The next morning, after he had gone to work, the doorbell rang. I went to answer and there were two detectives there who asked if they could speak with me. I assumed it was about the credit card charges and when I asked them if that in fact was why they were there they looked somewhat quizzically at each other.
“No ma’am,” the woman detective said to me. “We would like to speak with you regarding the murder of Henry Drummond.
“I’m sorry who?’ I asked.
“Henry Drummond, ma’am. He’s a banker on the west end. We found some of your belongings in his apartment. That’s why we’re here.”

Sarah's prompt: Red, orange, green

“Please don’t,” She said holding her little finger, angry and red with the thorn poking half in and half out, her little eyes watery. “Please, it will hurt.
“Sweetie, we can’t just leave it in there.” I reached for her hand but she jumped back and hid her hand behind her back.
“No!”
“Darling, if you don’t let me take it out, every time you bump your finger it will hurt. It might hurt a little bit when I pull it out but then it will stop hurting.” She eyed me suspiciously but the little hand was back in front of her. I reached down and we looked at it together. Then taking the tweezers I pulled it out. “See that wasn’t so bad.”
She was off and gone her little pink and orange sun dress blowing in the wind as she ran across the yard. Soon she was flying higher and higher, her little legs pumping up and down on the swing.
Later on we had a picnic on the cool green grass. We lay back feeling it tickle our skin as we looked for animal shapes in the puffy white clouds. Summer had arrived and I intended to fill it up with all the moments like these I could before the summer when she was too big for sundresses and swing sets and her booboos were larger than those you get from thorn bushes.

remembering

“I’m sorry, excuse me, can you tell me please where we are.” I looked down to see the young girl, perhaps 9 or 10, who was addressing me. “Ma’am can you tell me please where we are?”
I looked around, but for the life of me, I didn’t know where we were. I looked again trying to catch some landmark but there was nothing that seemed familiar. Nothing at all.
“I can’t I’m sorry. I really have no idea where we are,” I answered her. It was true I didn’t know.
“Well then can you tell me how I came to be here?” She asked.
I thought for a moment. “No, can’t tell you that either. I don’t even know how I came to be here.”
“Well then,” she asked, although I think she had pretty much given up on getting any answers from me. “Do you know how long we’ve been here?” Sighing, I shook my head.
We were standing on the corner of two streets, but there was no street sign to indicate where we might be. We both looked one way and then the other. There were nondescript brick buildings lining the road. We looked again trying to decide which way to go but I suppose it really doesn’t matter which way you go if you don’t know which way you’ve come.
There weren’t any people around. We saw a milky white cat cleaning its whiskers, a few common sparrows and at the far corner we saw a yellow dog trotting across the street. We walked up the road in silence. It all felt a bit like Alice Through the Looking Glass and I wondered if perhaps the White Rabbit or the Cheshire Cat would appear.
When we got to the end of the road she looked up at me expectantly, but clearly I had no idea which way to go. “Perhaps we should go in the direction the dog was walking.” She said, and so we did. After about 10 minutes we came to another corner and there to the right we saw a large park. We turned and walked towards the park and then through the gates and down the path. At the end of the path we found a beautiful garden and play yard. It was gated with a sign indicating that only adults accompanied by children could enter.
“I guess you’re in luck,” she said to me and took my hand in hers. I opened the gate and we walked through. She got on a swing almost immediately. “Come on,” she said to me.
We soared on those swings for who knows how long, pumping our legs, reaching for the sky, laughing. Then for no reason at all we stopped. We walked further up the path and came to a lovely table set for tea. Though I checked there was no Mad Hatter to be found, nor anyone else for that matter. Since it was certain the butterflies wouldn’t be partaking of it all we sat down. The little girl poured the tea, “I’ll play Mum,” she said.
It was all very delightful, cucumber sandwiches, scones with raspberry jam and lemon cake. The butterflies landed near us and then flitted away. The birds sang softly. Just as we were finishing the yellow dog came walking past.
We got up and followed down a path towards the pond and we saw mothers with strollers and babies and toddlers. They all smiled and murmured hello as we walked by. Down through the center of the park and out the back gate we saw some teenagers laughing together. They had school books and were teasing each other as we walked by. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Williams.” They said together as if greeting their teacher in class. I smiled and waved and wondered about the name for a moment but walked on.
We came to a street light and the young girl took my hand. As I looked down at her it seemed she had gotten taller since the play yard. “Which way would you like to go?” She asked.
As the light changed we crossed over and she let me lead us up a narrow street. At the top of the street was a pretty little white, Cape Cod style home and we walked up the porch and without knocking went into the house. There was something a bit familiar about the furnishings and I wandered over to the piano and sat down.
“Are you going to play?” She asked. Without answering I picked at a key here and there but nothing much seemed to want to come of it so I moved away from the piano and headed out of the front room.
“I think I’d like a nap,” I said. “I’m a bit tired.”
“Are you sure darling? It’s still quite early in the day.” When I turned the young girl had become a beautiful young woman. The front door opened and the yellow dog came in, walked over to me and licked my hand. I nodded and walked down the hall to the first bedroom. I slipped off my shoes and lay down on the quilt. Closing my eyes, I begin to drift off to sleep but I could hear voices from the other room.
“How is she today?”
“Not so well. The Alzheimers is getting worse. I don’t think she remembers much of anything at all.” I smile tasting the lemon cake, feeling the breeze from riding the swings, hearing the teenagers’ laughter, I drift off to sleep.

Sarah's prompt: Looking in the mirror 2

I’d wondered about it at first, although deep down I think I knew what was happening. I first noted that my reflection seemed a bit dim or faded. I had switched the lights on and off and then changed out all the bulbs but for some reason it still seemed, I don’t know as if it was hard to see – and I know this sounds ridiculous – but it seemed hard to see myself.
I tried other mirrors in the house with no difference. So I went to the optician’s to see if perhaps, my eyes were bad.
“No, Mrs. Brumbles there doesn’t appear to be any change in your prescription,” he said, “Everything looks good here.”
I wandered through the mall later and noticed a group of young women, laughing and talking as they passed the cosmetics counter. Looking in the mirrors, I noticed that the mirrors seemed backlit with their reflections. Shining forth glowing skin and sparkling eyes, it must be some special lighting they have to make you purchase their products, I thought to myself but as I walked up to the mirror to investigate further my dim reflection shown back at me.
How odd, really. It got harder to get ready in the morning, I could barely well enough to put on my makeup and comb my hair. Finally it happened. One morning, I walked in the bathroom and looked in the mirror and there was no reflection at all. Good Heavens, now what. I could clearly see that I was there if I looked down at my body but there was nothing left of my reflection in the mirror.
I considered the strangeness of this for several days without mentioning it to anyone. One morning as I was hustling the children out the door for school I passed the mirror in the hall with my youngest and suddenly I could see myself again. I stopped and told them to hurry and get in the car and I walked back to the mirror but no reflection.
Now I’ve taken to getting ready in the morning in the children’s bathroom. Its only when they are around that, looking in the mirror, I can find any reflection of myself.

Sarah's prompt: In the shop window

I passed the store once or twice a week on my way to the sandwich shop. Pretty sparklies all shining there. Some of them drop dead gorgeous with, of course, a price tag to match. Others so incredibly ugly you wonder who would shell out good money for such ugly jewelry, until of course you round the corner and see some fat old woman wearing that big ugly ring on her sausage shaped fingers or a gaudy necklace around her waddled turkey neck, or some young woman with a safety pin stuck in her eyebrow and that very bracelet you shook your head at around her too skinny wrist. Rarely did I spend more than a moment or two at the window until the day they put the yellow diamond ring in the case. Not so fantastically gorgeous to turn every head and yet there was something there that seemed to call my name. It was a pretty tear drop cut with little shimmery white diamonds on either side, set it in gold.
The man in the shop saw me looking at it and smiling, he gestured for me to come in. But I simply smiled back, waved and walked away. Two days later we went through the same routine again and I’m afraid to say, yet again on Friday afternoon. On Monday as I walked past the window pretending not to look I saw some pretty daisies all around the box with the ring and a little card with hand written letters that simply said “hello”.
When I looked up he smiled and winked. I nodded and smiled back as I made my way to the sandwich shop ( for the fifth time in 7 days).
The next day I decided to see what other lunch spots might be in the vicinity of the sandwich shop and so was forced (forced?) to walk past the jeweler’s window. Amidst the daisies and beside the beautiful ring was a note that read “It would look beautiful on you.” I smiled and looked up but the man was not there. As I walked away I quickly convinced myself that the note was meant for any woman passing by but when I walked back to the office I was surprised to see a second note that read “Yes, I meant you.”
“And that my darling is how I met and fell in love with your father. Now close your eyes and go to sleep.” I bent down and kissed Isabel on the forehead, got up and shut the light, leaving the door ajar. I walked down the hall to find the man in the shop window.

Your Messages Launch Party

I had the most FABULOUS time...London was quite fun and I'll be talking a bit more about that on myspace but I absolutely had to talk about the night of the Launch Party here since it was the whole Your Messages that got me writing again after a very long time and somehow got me published in real book no less!!!

Strange city, night and I really have no idea where I'm going or how to get there even though I had the address and the "postcode" (?) and the "multimap link" (??) so I ask the concierge (general term here to describe the somewhat friendly but not altogether helpful young Italian man that talked to his friends in the lobby at the hotel most of the evenings we were there) to order us a black taxi for 6:15. (The phone in the room didn't work)

At 6:05 we arrive in the lobby to wait for our "black taxi" which doesn't show until 6:35 and is instead a burgundy van with no taxi indications on it or in it, driven by harried man from Afghanistan who has no idea where we are going and keeps trying to read the address, the map book and discuss his views and distaste (utter contempt) for American foreign polices and President Bush in rather strident and angry terms, all the while zigging and zagging down alley ways (or so it seemed) and being honked at by other cars and buses while he's cutting them off. My only thought was that we were about to be taken hostage and murdered before I got to see the book and could I just please go home. He finally stops in front of a pub to ask the people outside of it if they know where the Poetry Cafe is (?!?!?!) since he's certain it should be around here somewhere. Its up the road a little bit but he can't go back because its one way and thank you very much it cost us about $40 for that fun little trip.

We arrive late and end up in the front row (no place to hide), I fear I'm about to be exposed as a poser since the room is packed with real writers and my discomfort and desire to escape before I have to go up and read grows and grows after one and another is introduced as the author of this book or these books and one of the first readers is the Poet Laureate from Canterbury (good Lord rescue me). During the interrmission everyone is signing everyone's book but I'm too intimidated to ask anyone and of course no one is asking me since I haven't read so who am I anyway and I would just really ... no really I would like to leave... and I spend alot of time wondering if my husband will be mad when I get home and tell him that even though we've spent a small fortune so I could go London so I could go to the Launch party, that I had left before I read ... I'm drinking a glass of water when my friend, who is with me, insists that I take the two books for our friends back in the States and have them signed by the woman behind me who has already read.

I work up the nerve to turn around and its the aforementioned Poet Laureate no less and so I ask her if she would mind and we start to talk. Patrica Debney was so kind and sweet and put me completely at ease and stopped me from bolting out of the place and it turns out she's from Texas! So I stayed (no really I had every intention of suddenly acting ill and slipping away) and had what can only be described as one of the most fabulous times of my life. Sarah's introduction and everyone's warm and sweet reception afterwards made me feel like I was floating on a cloud (which was good since my feet were killing me in those shoes). It was so marvelous and everyone was so kind or funny or both and I know longer felt like a poser but one of the club. Words like brilliant and lovely were used to describe my writing so that literally every time I tell the story to anyone who wants to hear it (or gets stuck in the room as I was telling it again - and again - oh and again)I feel like the dream has come true and I got to keep the glass slipper.

It was so very nice to meet all of you and to hear you read your stories ... some of them sounded just like I imagined them in my head especially Claire's (which made me laugh so hard from the very first time I had read it)... nobody looked as I had imagined ...its true that photographs cannot capture the soul and it was clear that you are truly beautiful people.

On the plane back home I saw the movie Dan in Real Life and loved the quote at the end - it really capped the trip off for me ... "Plan to Be Surprised!"