WRITESPIRATION #113 52 WEEKS IN 52 WORDS WEEK 17 – She Was Right!

Sacha is back with this week’s #Writespiration prompt!

writespiration-2017

Your challenge is to write your story using the weekly theme/prompt and write it in just 52 words…. EXACTLY, no more, no less.
This week, include the following in your story:

“The bitch was right.”

Here goes!

She sniggered.
“Erm, Jane, you might want to lose that loo roll stuck to your shoe!”
Silly cow, always trying to show me up.
Not this time.
I walked into the meeting room and smiled at the board of directors.
They looked at me.
I looked down
Damn, the bitch was right!

Enigma #writephoto

Sue’s prompt for #writephoto this week was a rather stunning one!

I immediately saw two figures within the stones, and the following story is what came out!

“It won’t do,” Major General Monolith sniffed, “it simply will not do!” He looked down his nose, or as southwards as he could, being a large upright stone, unable to heave his weight around.
Lieutenant Lithotome turned his rather handsome head away from his superior. (Well, when I say turned his head, I mean, it was in the direction it always was!) His rock hand resting under his, perfectly chiselled by nature, jaw.
He knew they would never understand. That Monolith and all the other boulders in charge of their settlement. They could never understand his longing. They had been stood there, staid, old fashioned and unmoving for thousands of years, and so had he.
But instead of remaining there he wanted to go. Be different! He was sick and tired of being stuck in one place. This Lieutenant wanted to see the world!
How? I can hear you asking… Well that is something only Lieutenant Lithotome can answer…
He is still stood there wistfully looking out over the moors. Being the tallest of the crew, he had access to views of the vistas that the others didn’t. He knew it wasn’t all about a small hill and and the green grass around them. He knew there were rolling hills, and strange tracks where he would see vehicles coming and going regularly.
He heard the moveables talking about places they had been to. It wasn’t right, he knew. When any moveables came close, they were meant to turn to stone inside as well as out, unhearing, unseeing, unfeeling. That way when someone gouged out their name on one of the boulders, it didn’t hurt. And those moveables, well they had an awful habit of leaving marks wherever they went!
But Lithotome defied the rules. That was the kinda rock he was. And he heard stories.
But what was amazing was when one family of moveables came back.
A rather portly moveable came over and showed a smaller rotund version of himself a particularly deep almost crevice like hole in the Lieutenant.
“Ere son, see this ‘ere ‘ole? I made that, I did. And managed to knock this chunk of stone off this rock.” He then proceeded to show the mini moveable a piece of stone attached to some leather cord, hanging around the larger form’s neck.
Lithotome almost gasped in shock! A piece of him had come back! And in the moments that the large moveable had held that missing chunk close to him, a gush of information rushed into him.
The small shard from him had almost plugged into him like a memory card, and downloaded images from around the world.
Beaches, farms, deserts, forests. Heat, cold, rain,
So much out there that he couldn’t see.
But he could.
If only he could somehow garner the strength to topple himself over. Then he could roll down the hill, breaking into fragments, and get collected, and taken out into the wide world…
The harumpfh from Major General Monolith bought him out of his daydream. Why had he even bothered sharing his vision with that stuck in the mud old piece of rock?

I do wonder where my mind goes sometimes…..

EDWINA’S ESSAY CHALLENGE (with a little Romantic Tuesday thrown in too!)

Judy has a challenge for us! A prompt

“Time stood still; I couldn’t believe that….”

Remember 40 mins, 1000 words.

#edwinasessaychallenge

Time stood still; I couldn’t believe that I had caught it.
Looking back at him, I smiled.
It had been a good few months since I had been hinting, you know. Six years we had been together and a very happy, if eventful six years they had been too.
We met through mutual acquaintances at a bar.
Typical, huh?
There I was, screeching away into a microphone. I could never resist karaoke. Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” was a particular favourite, and that was the song I had been murdering at the time.
Now, most blokes would have been scared away by my ahem, not quite dulcet tones, but not him. I remember catching his eye as he stood at the bar, glass in hand, smirking at me.
Oooh, that smirk really riled me! As I finished my song, the dutch courage acquired from the several rounds of vodka was still present, and I marched over to the smug git at the bar.
I had plenty prepared to say to the man laughing at me, but it was all left on the tip of my tongue as I got closer to him. What a gorgeous specimen… maybe he was allowed to guffaw at my Gloria…
He looked at me as I approached and smiled (not smirked) at me. “A drink for the singer?”
Well, I hadn’t expected that!
“Er, erm…”
“Oh Gina, you’ve already met Matt! Matt, this is Gina, she works with me.” Rachel, my colleague, and fellow song murderer stood by the obviously hard of hearing Adonis.
And so, our introduction was done. We went on to realise a mutual love for homicidal karaoke, getting booed off the stage of plenty of London’s karaoke bars!
It wasn’t long before we were officially dating.
Mum loved Matt. He ate her roast dinner, complete with her incinerated roast potatoes, overcooked veg, tough meat and lumpy gravy, and then told her he’d be back the next week!
It wasn’t long before we moved in together, and settled into the cosy life of coupledom, drinks at the local most evenings, movie nights in, romantic weekend breaks, and the odd long-haul holiday.
There were bumps in the road… no relationship ever had a smooth journey. Exes raising their ugly heads, dealing with money worries, he lost his job… but we were pretty tight.
About a year and a half ago, Rachel came to me with a question. Would I be her bridesmaid?
She had been dating her other half, Martin, for a while now, and they had decided to take the next step. Of course, I was delighted for her, if a little jealous.
We had been settled down for a lot longer than her and Martin, yet the topic of marriage had never really been discussed.
During the wedding planning time, Rach and I discussed it many times. She was surprised that we hadn’t been first, seeing as we were practically married anyway, living together, and all that.
It got me thinking too.
Why hadn’t we ever discussed it?
Around six months before the wedding, I broached the subject with Matt. Coming from a broken home myself, it hadn’t been the first thing I thought of, but watching Rach get so excited, I realised that maybe I did want that too.
Matt was perplexed. Why get married? We were happy as we were.
Men!
They never understood anything, did they?
I’d leave magazines open at strategic pages, showing jewellery adverts. I’d coo at wedding scenes on the telly. I’d linger at the wedding dress departments in the stores we visited… Would he ever take the hint?
One day, a group of us were sitting in the pub, and I asked for a lighter. Matt threw it over to me, and as usual, being the klutz that I am, I dropped it. “Jees, Gina, will you ever manage to catch anything, other than a cold?!” He laughed at me, as I bent down to pick it up.
It was a bit of a standing joke. Gina couldn’t catch. I had been like it since I was a child. Never chosen in PE lessons at school to be in any teams, but I was secretly glad. Who wanted to play netball?!
Fast forward to the wedding day. February 29th 2016.
Rach looked beautiful, and she had made sure that her bridesmaids looked pretty stunning too. The day passed without a hitch. Plenty of sentimental tears, but no problems.
We laughed, we danced, we celebrated, then it was time for the bride and groom to leave for their nuptial night. Before their exit, the ceremonial throwing of the bouquet needed to be carried out.
Matt nudged me, “Is it even worth you trying Gina? We all know what your catching ability is like!”
Cheeky git! I’d show him!
“You catch that babe, and it’s a yes from me!” he shouted to my departing back.
Off I went, determined, but actually pretty sure that wasn’t going to be the catcher of any bouquet, anytime soon.
“Three, Two, One!” The crowd all counted down, and Rach hurled the bouquet behind her.
Time slowed down and the flowers fell in slow motion. There was the typical gaggle of girls jostling to get the prime position, and I was one of them. The bouquet descended… right into my outstretched hands!
Time stood still; I couldn’t believe that I had caught it.
Looking back at him, I smiled.
Sauntering over towards him, bouquet casually swinging by my side, I went to get my prize… or ask for it anyway.
The date, 29th February. It was a leap year. The year that traditionally, the girl asked the man to marry him.
I dropped down on one knee dramatically, not easy in a lilac bridesmaid sheath dress!
“Will you, Matt Howard, do me the honour of being my husband?”
He took my hand, and pulled me to standing, taking me in his arms.
“Yes, you totally crazy woman. Yes, I’ll marry you!”

And exactly 1000 words too… 42 minutes though…!

[linking into Erika’s Romantic Tuesday too!]

#WRITESPIRATION #108 52 WEEKS IN 52 WORDS WEEK 12 – The Switch

Sacha’s #writespiration prompt this week…

The Switch

I didn’t go all kinky like my blog sis Judy with this prompt, but the first thing that came to mind for me was sexuality and transgender issues…

Looking in the mirror he smiled a coy smile.
He smoothed his hands down his body, stopping briefly at the waist, before allowing them to undulate over his hips.
Not long now.
He glanced at the fake flowing locks and tossed his hair back seductively.
Not long at all until the Switch…

writespiration-2017

WRITESPIRATION #105 52 WEEKS IN 52 WORDS WEEK 9 – Emotion

Wednesday means it’s #writespiration time!

Sacha’s prompt this week…

This week, we’re playing a game. *muhahahaha* Write your 52 words describing just one emotion, BUT you’re not allowed to use the name of the emotion or tell me what it is. I want to guess.

I hope I did this right!

Each second passing feels like an hour.
My stomach is twisting up in knots.
My fists clench and loosen, then clench again.
Unknowingly I begin to nibble at the dry skin on my lips.
Looking up at the clock, I almost gasp.
It’s time.
I pick up the phone and hit ‘call’.

writespiration-2017

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