Hi Everyone.. I have moved the blog to www.washthebowl.com gives me a bit more freedom to do things.. Check it out..
The blog will be gone the first week in May.....
Friday, March 14, 2008
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Ma Was Proud
I added an intro to the daily 100 word story, if you have any thoughts on it let me know. Today's story is entitled Ma Was Proud, Enjoy.
Running full speed into the dark alley Rif heard his mother mockingly saying how proud she was of him. Trying to shake off the thoughts and guilt he ran faster.
Reaching the car, jumping in he aimed the car onto the wet street and floored the gas. Desperately crying “man I keep hearing ma in my head?” and answering himself “What ya talking about Rif man, ma’s dead 30 years.”
Anxiety overtaking him Rif jerks the wheel, the old Dodge careens through the bridge railings taking off like a crumpled paper airplane. Sailing into the gorge.
Ma sure was proud.
Running full speed into the dark alley Rif heard his mother mockingly saying how proud she was of him. Trying to shake off the thoughts and guilt he ran faster.
Reaching the car, jumping in he aimed the car onto the wet street and floored the gas. Desperately crying “man I keep hearing ma in my head?” and answering himself “What ya talking about Rif man, ma’s dead 30 years.”
Anxiety overtaking him Rif jerks the wheel, the old Dodge careens through the bridge railings taking off like a crumpled paper airplane. Sailing into the gorge.
Ma sure was proud.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
We Kept Walking
Today's 100 word story may be more of a social essay or it could be just some Sci Fi wraped up in 100 words. There is really nothing to worry about, now is there.
We trudged along, the rain filling every crack in the sidewalk. Cars diving into puddles sending sheets of water against our drenched bodies.
We kept walking.
Like Thanksgiving shoppers unable to help themselves people poured out into the wet dirty streets joining the throng of humanity. Stranded commuters abandoning cars joining the crowds.
We kept walking.
Lawns turned to mud pits gates torn from their hinges, voices came together in a rumble louder then thunder. Tired, hungry and soggy, we kept walking.
Tugging my sleeve a little girl asked “why”? I shook free and snapped “Social Media.”
We kept walking.
We trudged along, the rain filling every crack in the sidewalk. Cars diving into puddles sending sheets of water against our drenched bodies.
We kept walking.
Like Thanksgiving shoppers unable to help themselves people poured out into the wet dirty streets joining the throng of humanity. Stranded commuters abandoning cars joining the crowds.
We kept walking.
Lawns turned to mud pits gates torn from their hinges, voices came together in a rumble louder then thunder. Tired, hungry and soggy, we kept walking.
Tugging my sleeve a little girl asked “why”? I shook free and snapped “Social Media.”
We kept walking.
Monday, March 10, 2008
NXNE The Antidote
Today's 100 word story is a little verse for all those at Utterz who didn't go to SXSW this week.
The story is entitled NXNE (North by North East) The Antidote, Enjoy!
With diminishing hopes and racing thoughts Sally neared the bakery door, she peered into the darkened kitchen with hopes of seeing someone, someone who would sell her a cake.
Sally was near tears and about to decompose into a heap right there on main street when she noticed an envelop taped to the door, it just said Sally. Reaching out with her shaking hand opening the envelop she read the contents.
Dear Sally, Sorry we closed early please join us at NXNE (north by north east) the antidote for all those left behind. Sally then knew that not going to SXSW (south by south west) was really ok.
The story is entitled NXNE (North by North East) The Antidote, Enjoy!
With diminishing hopes and racing thoughts Sally neared the bakery door, she peered into the darkened kitchen with hopes of seeing someone, someone who would sell her a cake.
Sally was near tears and about to decompose into a heap right there on main street when she noticed an envelop taped to the door, it just said Sally. Reaching out with her shaking hand opening the envelop she read the contents.
Dear Sally, Sorry we closed early please join us at NXNE (north by north east) the antidote for all those left behind. Sally then knew that not going to SXSW (south by south west) was really ok.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Sweet Guilt
Today's 100 word short story is entitled Sweet Guilt, Enjoy!
The invitation was waiting when Sally turned on her computer. Reading the email she thought “I need more then cake to chase away this mood”. Still, it was Saturday and a few sweet bites just might help.
Fork in hand Sally went to the bakery, headed to the sample table and went from one end to the other. With each bite her feelings of not belonging desolved just a bit more.
Leaving the bakery Sally walked six or seven miles assuaging her guilt, then hailed a taxi for home.
The bakery’s computer waited to send Sally a new sweet invitation.
The invitation was waiting when Sally turned on her computer. Reading the email she thought “I need more then cake to chase away this mood”. Still, it was Saturday and a few sweet bites just might help.
Fork in hand Sally went to the bakery, headed to the sample table and went from one end to the other. With each bite her feelings of not belonging desolved just a bit more.
Leaving the bakery Sally walked six or seven miles assuaging her guilt, then hailed a taxi for home.
The bakery’s computer waited to send Sally a new sweet invitation.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Good Till The Last Drop
I can remember as a kid playing outside how my friends and we used to repeat the tag lines from TV commercials over and over as we played together. They were new and unique and we found great fun in repeating them.
Today's 100 word story is entitled Good Till The Last Drop, enjoy it!
On Saturday’s Dad cooked, what he cooked never surprised us, fried baloney, B&M baked beans, mustard, ketchup and vinegar on the side, no game to watch meant brown bread heating in the oven.
Cooking let dad feel like he was connecting with us, contributing to the family.
Curling up a piece of white bread Dad would push the beans onto his fork, smile at me and bite into the sauced covered bread.
One Saturday Dad poured me my first cup of coffee, cream no sugar like he drank it. Raising our cups we both said “Good Till The Last Drop.”
Today's 100 word story is entitled Good Till The Last Drop, enjoy it!
On Saturday’s Dad cooked, what he cooked never surprised us, fried baloney, B&M baked beans, mustard, ketchup and vinegar on the side, no game to watch meant brown bread heating in the oven.
Cooking let dad feel like he was connecting with us, contributing to the family.
Curling up a piece of white bread Dad would push the beans onto his fork, smile at me and bite into the sauced covered bread.
One Saturday Dad poured me my first cup of coffee, cream no sugar like he drank it. Raising our cups we both said “Good Till The Last Drop.”
Friday, March 7, 2008
Red and Yellow
Today's 100 word story finds Ellen back in the middle of it all. She last appeared in Liquid Chocolate.
The story today is entitled Red and Yellow. Enjoy!
For a minute or two Ellen lingered at Macy’s exit, she then tentatively ventured out into the courtyard. Walking briskly looking from side to side she was sure she had not been recognized.
Ellen so hated this cloak and dagger routine she went through, but she had needs like everyone else.
Reaching the vending cart with it’s red and yellow menu, Ellen placed her order. “Two with everything” she intoned taking a fitful scan of her surroundings.
For now at least she was safe from discovery, even her guilt could not dampen her joy for these two juicy hot dogs.
The story today is entitled Red and Yellow. Enjoy!
For a minute or two Ellen lingered at Macy’s exit, she then tentatively ventured out into the courtyard. Walking briskly looking from side to side she was sure she had not been recognized.
Ellen so hated this cloak and dagger routine she went through, but she had needs like everyone else.
Reaching the vending cart with it’s red and yellow menu, Ellen placed her order. “Two with everything” she intoned taking a fitful scan of her surroundings.
For now at least she was safe from discovery, even her guilt could not dampen her joy for these two juicy hot dogs.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Left Home
We all have points in our life where we shift to a totally different direction. Sometimes we pursue a dream and reality becomes so different or so difficult that the dream ends.
I've always wondered what happens when a dream ends and how can we benefit from looking at it, from spending time revisiting that dream and its ending. It is after all what helps to define us, right now.
Todays 100 word story is entitled, Left Home. Enjoy!
Just turned 18 cruising along main gawking at all the people. Dreaming of living and a job, in the big city.
It was dry and tedious as I trekked business to business but by the forth day I just popped my head in and asked “hiring”. Sensing hesitation or hearing no kept me moving to the next establishment. I was in rhythm, I had created the job hunting shuffle.
The fifth day I was cooking in an Italian joint, the sixth day got my draft notice.
I wonder, do we remember a dream ending or do we just start another?
I've always wondered what happens when a dream ends and how can we benefit from looking at it, from spending time revisiting that dream and its ending. It is after all what helps to define us, right now.
Todays 100 word story is entitled, Left Home. Enjoy!
Just turned 18 cruising along main gawking at all the people. Dreaming of living and a job, in the big city.
It was dry and tedious as I trekked business to business but by the forth day I just popped my head in and asked “hiring”. Sensing hesitation or hearing no kept me moving to the next establishment. I was in rhythm, I had created the job hunting shuffle.
The fifth day I was cooking in an Italian joint, the sixth day got my draft notice.
I wonder, do we remember a dream ending or do we just start another?
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Sylvia's Diner
Sometimes in the middle of a memory we find that little tid bit that takes our breath away and makes us wonder. Isn't the wonder the stuff that paints our world?
No I'm not talking about the fluff or sappy stuff that Madison Ave pours over or lives on a daily basis. I'm talking about the real wonder we experience when we understand something for the first time, really understand it.
Today's 100 word story is entitled, Sylvia's Diner
Bundles of newspapers waited impatiently for Sunday brunch customers at Sylvia’s Dinner, its tag” if it ain’t fresh we don’t have it.”
Talking was frowned upon, reading comics, reviews and the obituary's encouraged.
A table near a window was the goal, watching all the decked out church goer’s come and go the highlight film.
Fresh squeezed OJ was only an arms length away, even closer was Sylvia who roamed from table to table refilling everyones coffee and smiling with those cosmic eyes of hers.
I wonder did everyone have cosmic eyes then, am I too cynical to see them now?
No I'm not talking about the fluff or sappy stuff that Madison Ave pours over or lives on a daily basis. I'm talking about the real wonder we experience when we understand something for the first time, really understand it.
Today's 100 word story is entitled, Sylvia's Diner
Bundles of newspapers waited impatiently for Sunday brunch customers at Sylvia’s Dinner, its tag” if it ain’t fresh we don’t have it.”
Talking was frowned upon, reading comics, reviews and the obituary's encouraged.
A table near a window was the goal, watching all the decked out church goer’s come and go the highlight film.
Fresh squeezed OJ was only an arms length away, even closer was Sylvia who roamed from table to table refilling everyones coffee and smiling with those cosmic eyes of hers.
I wonder did everyone have cosmic eyes then, am I too cynical to see them now?
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Tick Tock
Even as children I think we are aware of the mystery of time. Some moments in our lives stand out and we always remember them. Today's 100 word story thinks about the passing of time.
Tick Tock
Whenever I visited my old Uncle Barney I’d rush up to his chair, ask to see his pocket watch holding out my small trembling hands.
Uncle Barney would always say “ I trust you” placing the watch in my hands. I felt so big so grownup, popping the cover and starring at time starring back at me.
On one of my visits my Aunt stopped me from running over to him. Uncle Barney was silhouetted against the window starring at his watch.
The next day dad told me Uncle Barney had died, he left me the watch and the trust.
Tick Tock
Whenever I visited my old Uncle Barney I’d rush up to his chair, ask to see his pocket watch holding out my small trembling hands.
Uncle Barney would always say “ I trust you” placing the watch in my hands. I felt so big so grownup, popping the cover and starring at time starring back at me.
On one of my visits my Aunt stopped me from running over to him. Uncle Barney was silhouetted against the window starring at his watch.
The next day dad told me Uncle Barney had died, he left me the watch and the trust.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Zen Dad
Yep here is my almost daily 100 word story. Earlier today I was wondering about how we often don't see the present but are caught up in the future or past. Today's story is a little thought about fathers and sons. It's called Zen Dad, Enjoy!
Just as the car reached the hilltop my dad would hit the gas and we would become airborne. Startled, I’d look up to see dad staring back at me in the rear view mirror his laughter filling the car, his eyes full of mischievousness.
Whenever he saw me drifting out of the now he would pull a rabbit out of his hat to shock me back to the moment.
It was too late when I saw his clumsy attempts to really be those of a struggling father, a struggling zen master, laughing with me all the way to the present.
Just as the car reached the hilltop my dad would hit the gas and we would become airborne. Startled, I’d look up to see dad staring back at me in the rear view mirror his laughter filling the car, his eyes full of mischievousness.
Whenever he saw me drifting out of the now he would pull a rabbit out of his hat to shock me back to the moment.
It was too late when I saw his clumsy attempts to really be those of a struggling father, a struggling zen master, laughing with me all the way to the present.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Quiet Snow
I walk a couple of miles most days come sun or come snow. Many times my walk takes on a kind of meditation and from one of those walks I crafted this 100 word story and audio.
It's called Quiet Snow, enjoy!
Walking newly plowed roads with a bright sun on my back. Jumping onto the stone wall so I could better view the fields and hills of the golf course, all deeply covered in quiet snow.
Neither the fresh snow nor the cold air had yet been marked by the coming of sleds and saucers, the coming of voices.
Quiet snow muffled my thoughts and my heartbeat as I stood and watched moment upon moment folding and unfolding before me. Quiet snow stopping time like a hand gently brushing a cheek. Quiet snow laying flat like a picture postcard.
It's called Quiet Snow, enjoy!
Walking newly plowed roads with a bright sun on my back. Jumping onto the stone wall so I could better view the fields and hills of the golf course, all deeply covered in quiet snow.
Neither the fresh snow nor the cold air had yet been marked by the coming of sleds and saucers, the coming of voices.
Quiet snow muffled my thoughts and my heartbeat as I stood and watched moment upon moment folding and unfolding before me. Quiet snow stopping time like a hand gently brushing a cheek. Quiet snow laying flat like a picture postcard.
Liquid Chocolate
Last weeks subject was At My Own Funeral and 12 people ended up sending in their take on it. You can hear them all as 100 Word Stories.
This week the subject is Hemmorhage and though it's misspelled here and at the podcast site it means what you think it means. I have tried to take the meaning in a different direction then what is found in the dictionary.
My story and audio this week is entitled Liquid Chocolate. Enjoy!
Ellen walked straight to the back room of the old bakery joining the five of us already present. We sat hushed as the baker brought us the mythical liquid chocolate cake.
As Ellen sliced into the cake chocolate lava hemorrhaged from the center engulfing all six layers. Off in a corner the baker smiled and a dog barked.
Each of us was served a piece dripping with liquid chocolate. Savoring each bite we thought how poets lived for just such a moment and experiencing feelings boarding on rapture we all in unison smiled at Ellen, wishing her a happy birthday.
This week the subject is Hemmorhage and though it's misspelled here and at the podcast site it means what you think it means. I have tried to take the meaning in a different direction then what is found in the dictionary.
My story and audio this week is entitled Liquid Chocolate. Enjoy!
Ellen walked straight to the back room of the old bakery joining the five of us already present. We sat hushed as the baker brought us the mythical liquid chocolate cake.
As Ellen sliced into the cake chocolate lava hemorrhaged from the center engulfing all six layers. Off in a corner the baker smiled and a dog barked.
Each of us was served a piece dripping with liquid chocolate. Savoring each bite we thought how poets lived for just such a moment and experiencing feelings boarding on rapture we all in unison smiled at Ellen, wishing her a happy birthday.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
