Red

Why are stop signs red? What has the color of passion and power and pizzazz to do with stopping? It screams full steam ahead. Wear the red power tie to the job interview for confidence. Shake your bootie in the clingy red dress at the night club. Be careful around those red headed people, they tend to have short tempers according to the stereotypes. Look out, that fire is red hot! Blood, the ever flowing stuff of life turns red as soon as it hits the air. Red wine startles your taste buds, then leaves them begging for more. Give a red rose to the object of your desire, the one who takes your breath away. Notice me, touch me, hear me, taste me cries red. Ignore the danger, I’m worth it. Definitely do not stop.


This is the first week of  Jenny Matlock's Alphabe-Thursday Rainbow Summer School.  Visit her site for more great posts on the color red.

Forever

Driving six hours is a long time on the road. Six hours spent singing car-aoke and taking in the picturesque scenery, but mostly reminiscing about the good times. But those days were long gone and my mind was in a different place now. Or was it? My pulse quickened as I passed the road sign which read "Medford 27 miles."


Derrick and I had been high school sweethearts with the hopeful teenage dream of being together forever. One careless moment changed everything, and the weight of keeping it secret drove us apart, first to different colleges in different states, then to different worlds. He took over his father’s architecture firm in Portland, and I opened an art studio in Sacramento. 20 years and a failed marriage later, I’m 27 miles from seeing him again. This High School Reunion might be our last chance to deal with our shared guilt and move past it. Maybe even rekindle an old teenage dream.

The previous story is part of Saturday Centus, brought to you by Jenny Matlock.  Jenny provides the writing prompt (the text in bold) and particpants finish the story - in 100 words or less.  I hope you enjoyed my story, and that you'll visit Jenny's site for more fun conclusions.

Undone

I hear them whispering in the hallway. They’re talking about me. I’m the one in the sickroom. Other people are making decisions about my life while I narrate. I can’t pretend I’m okay anymore. The façade has crumbled and now it’s just me unplugged, uncensored, and uncovered, and strangely at peace.



I am participating in Flash Friday 55. This weekly meme is brought to you by G-Man, over at Mr. Know it All. The object is to write a story or prose in exactly 55 words. Come join us and link your 55 in Mr. Know it All's comment section. See you there!

I Write Like - Fun Site for Bloggers

Hello fellow bloggers, I stumbled across this great site that analyzes a few paragraphs of something you've written, and tells you which famous writer your style is most similar to.  I had it analyze 3 different samples of my writing and each time it gave me a different author.  I'm obviously a schizophrenic writer.  I'm not sure how accurate the analysis was, but I had fun doing it.  Plus they give you a cool button to display on your blog.  What could be better?

Go ahead and try I Write Like for yourself.  If you decide to do it, please leave me a comment with the name of the famous author you are most like.

Have Fun, Cee

I write like
Stephen King

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

I write like
Chuck Palahniuk

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

The Pit

I can do this

I’m a strong person

I have a will don’t I?

This isn’t so hard

What’s one mistake?

I do so many things well

I will not measure myself by a Hollywood standard

I could do more

I should be more

Where did the hopefulness go?

I’m exhausted

Trying takes too much effort

I have to rest, to think, to dream

My bed is cozy and forgiving

A haven in a world that’s cold and critical

No use in getting up just yet.

 
I participate in Jenny Matlock's Alphabe-Thursday.  Visit her site for this week's Alphabet Soup of great posts.

Z is for Zest

Zest


A friend handed me a post it note yesterday with this saying on it: don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened. It struck me as profound. I’ve been doing a lot of crying lately, buckets in fact, but not much smiling. I can’t ignore the tragedies of the past year, but I don’t have to ignore the joys either. Those belong to me as well.

Such as:

Exploring a windmill field … without getting caught

Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge

Climbing rocks and not falling to my death

Comparing silly socks

Drinking wine and doing taxes with my best friend (don’t send the auditors, please)

Snuggling and laughing with my son

Zest for life or much of anything for that matter does not come easily right now, but I’m willing to try to find it because life without it is completely flavorless.






I participate in Jenny Matlock's Alphabe-Thursday. Visit her site for great posts on the letter Z.

The Choice

*Saturday Centus is a writing challenge where you are given a prompt, and have to work it into a story of 100 words or less. The prompt for this week is in bold, and my story follows.


"Are you sure that's the one you want?"

I felt a little lump in my throat as I peered down at my choice, held tightly in my hand. I didn't think this would be so nerve-wracking. Was I making the wrong decision? I couldn't agonize over this any longer.

I took a deep breath before managing to say, "... Yes, it is."

I stared at the expensive blue and white silk tie as the store clerk carefully wrapped it in tissue paper, and slipped it into the shopping bag. The tie would never be worn with the light blue shirt I had brought into the store on the pretense of matching it. Did my face give anything away? Surely there was no way he could guess the true motive for my purchase. The expense didn’t worry me, I would not be paying. What better way to hide a murder weapon than to return it to the store where it was purchased?