This is in response to an old prompt about whether I prefer my voice on tape or face on vidoe, but it brought up good memories that I like to flip through. In college, my freshman year, I was best friends with two girls, Ann and Ali. Ali’s roommate moved out of her dorm room for some reason I don’t remember, and one night, inspired by Fiegling from a Romanian friend and cheap wine from a fake ID, she let us take magic marker to her walls to decorate.
The day before the big day
Todays Daily Prompt asked us what we do the day before a big day, and one of the suggested “big days” was our wedding day. Since a coworker of mine is getting married this weekend, I have recently been dreamily reliving the days of my own wedding, just, like 6 months ago… (I just realized, 6 months yesterday!) and I hope she has a good a time as I did.
The week before we went to Disney to get married was stressful, but not too much. The big decisions were already made and settled, we had a wedding planner handling things in Orlando. The actual day before, my husband and I bashed around Magic Kingdom with a couple of friends. These friends had never been to Disney World before, so it was awesome to show them things for the first time.
The Devil is in the Details: On Descriptive Writing
This is SOO helpful! The writers I love the most have fantastic detail in their stories, but I struggle when I try to emulate them. Good tips
The First of Many Motherhood Questions
How am I gonna teach my child about God?
This is something that’s been on my mind since I found out I was pregnant. I feel like I have a duty to teach my child about God, but I am NOT taking her to church.
Obstacle
Reclining, he considered his proposal. The thought of her lips curving into a smile at the sight of the ring made his heart pound.
His fingers still burned raw from where he had scrubbed. Blood really does stain; even skin.
It Is Enough
Another stab at flash fiction! Whatchu think?
Years of battle over an idea had dwarfed nations, slain charismatic leaders and laid waste to Earthly bounty. Before these last remaining ruins of humanity disappeared, another desperate idea finally appeared, one on which they could all agree.
A run to the death.
The strongest warriors of remaining tribes began a final test that would make Pheidippides weep with equal parts pride and dismay. A battle waged of sinew, sweat and stamina, as warriors literally chased death in the only measure adequate to determine the strength of their belief. As the number of racers dwindled, hearts were lodged in throats as minds were myopically unified on a single question: “Whose belief is superior?”
The final answer was found in the unexpected sight of the remaining warriors finishing the race unified, side by side. They nudged the world into reconciliation with a single word before death: “Enough.”
No final victor, only a victor’s final command.
Fierce Mother Models
I’m past my first trimester and, while I’m still waiting for the extreme tiredness to pass and getting comfortable with my burgeoning belly, I’ve thought a bit about the kind of mother I hope to be. (To my daughter – did I tell you it’ll be a girl?! Evelyn Charlotte. 🙂 )
I think I’ll be at least an OK mom. I’m older (advanced maternal age -doesn’t that suck?) and I feel like I know myself and what I’m capable of. While I do this, however, there are still some fictional mothers that I think are fierce and would be good to emulate, at least in some ways.
Why didn’t we ask Harry!?!?
I read about the announcement of the second royal child yesterday to Prince William and Princess Kate, and I thought of something that occurred to me the first time: How does Prince Harry feel about all this? With every child his elder brother has, he is pushed farther and farther from the throne. I wonder if he hates that? Is he like Uncle Scar from the Lion King?
Realization
A bit of flash fiction for flash Friday! What do you think?
167 Words
“An under-sea trigger mechanism is a perfect device,” the Roknokoss leader, Laaked said to his crew. “This is an inferior species, and they are an easy prey.”
“If only the missile falls on planned spot.” Sobrona countered. “The humans have misprogrammed their system; the pod is heading in the wrong direction.”
Laaked cried, “Ah! If there were ever people desperate to be subsumed!”
“Sir, there is a way to correct it,” chimed in Rhuka, “though it will depend on the inferior humans.” “Whatever it takes,” commanded Laaked.
They watched Rhuka transmit a chirping signal to the spaceship system. As hoped, it drew attention to the error, and the humans manually overrode it.
Upon the landing of the satellite pod, the Roknokoss automatically transmitted a signal to their home ship: “Mission Accomplished. Commence bust sequence.” As the global rumble of the alien mobilization began, they were paused suddenly by Sobrona, who turned to Laaked.
“Perhaps they are not all so inferior,” he softly. “Perhaps they can be used.”
“I will not be returning to Ferguson”
For the past week or so, I have been doing something I don’t normally do: I have spent hours watching the twitter feed about #Ferguson. Like, a whole night. Vice News has been streaming every night, and I’ve been watching/listening to the protests, other people around and the police around the cameras. I was annoyed at myself for spending my time doing that instead of other things, but on Tuesday, after seeing this on the twitter feed, I felt really uncomfortable:
“Tonight, millions of American will watch #Ferguson for entertainment. This is Rome, and the media make it worse.”
Thanks to The Hunger Games and learning about the origin of the word, “Panem,” I caught the reference to Rome, and it was convicting. In a way, I think it’s good that media coverage was like this. The police department wasn’t giving any details about what happened and, at least at first, traditional news wasn’t paying much attention to it.
However, it feels too much like I’m watching this for entertainment, and what the hell is wrong with me if I’m doing that? Am I just being pacified by panem et circunses? It really made me uncomfortable, for reasons I still don’t fully understand. The explanation is a little closer by reading this post today, written by a journalist who had been reporting out of Ferguson and is choosing to pull out.
I Didn't Just Wake Up This Morning With A Craving 