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Daily Archives: November 24, 2017
November Writing Challenge Day 24 Something was off. It’s understandable. Everything had been so on for so long it was a relief, actually. It was the TV. Thank God. It seemed as if I had watched every sporting even for the past ten years. It could have been worse, it could have been hunting shows. The only thing more boring than watching men sit in blinds all day was watching men hit little bitty white balls all over gently rolling green hills. And golf I could sleep through, so really, it wasn’t that bad. So the TV was off, and I couldn’t figure out why. Then I realized something else was off…the house had a very distinct abandoned feeling. I crept down the hall. There was dust on the floor. How long had I been asleep? Not just the TV, but everything was off. No whirring of the fridge, no air unit thermostat clicking. Then I noticed the windows were open. No, that wasn’t right, they had been blasted out. Glass shards lay everywhere, like they had just exploded from…what, exactly? And then I remembered. Oak Ridge had been bombed. But…I had survived? How was that even possible? I had counted myself lucky since I was little that if something happened at the Lab, I wouldn’t know it. Life is but a vapor, indeed. I was secure…
November Writing Challenge Day 23 Whispers. It had been a challenging day. The house was full of relatives and their noise and needs. But that’s what Thanksgiving is all about, right? Everybody under one roof, pitching in or watching football, opinions about everything possible being vented. The sisters were into it in the kitchen, this time over mashed potatoes. One wanted them creamed, because the others made them too lumpy, one kept adding more salt much to her siblings dismay, and one wanted more butter to the point they would be yellow. The sisters never agreed on anything, from to where to eat to what their husbands were thinking. The husbands in question were scattered around the living room, watching them placidly. They knew better than to get involved in any debate-those women would eat them alive. The only one that could do anything with them was their blessed daddy, who was snoozing in his armchair. Their mother just made them worse. Dinner eaten, too much wine consumed by one sister and her husband, and now they were having a whispered conversation about her by the sink. Three were grouped together, talking low and clandestine while the fourth cleared the table of crumpled napkins and smeared dessert plates. She didn’t know her sisters had noticed. She wasn’t aware the sisters knew about the affair. She was oblivious to the worrisome glances they kept shooting her way while…
November Writing Challenge Day 22 Distorted sounds. When you’re sitting at work and there’s a crash-boom-bang and it’s 50 pieces of toprail rolling off the pile after the guys cut the band. Or you’re there by yourself and something keeps popping and you think somebody is messing with you but it’s just the metal roof contracting as the sun melts the frost. Or you’re home alone and something falls in the closet and you jump out of your skin and belatedly reach for your pistol, even though you would be dead by now if someone was coming in. Distorted sounds will make you crazy if you let them. …
