Tuesday, June 18, 2019

Out of the Country

Photo Credit Julie Moore

I'm taking an online writing class this summer with teachers Robin Rice and Emily McDowell at https://www.bewhoyouare.com/ The writing prompts are pictures and we are free to write whatever we'd like to as inspired by the photo. Over the next few weeks, I'll post some of my homework. 


Here's what I wrote to go with the photo above:


   My boss and the people in HR would tell everyone I had a family emergency. “She had to drop everything and will be out of the country for a week or so. Very sudden,” they would say while I sat on a plane already far above the Pacific. Eleven and a half hours later, I would take a cab from Narita to Shinagawa Station and board the Shinkansen. The bullet train would make the 227 mile ride in just two hours and twenty minutes, less expensive than a flight straight through.

   I would roll my suitcase behind me past the trees hung with banners and paper lanterns outside the temples. I would buy a pickle on a stick at Nishiki Market under the red, yellow, and green glass ceiling. I would pass the stalls with the taro and giant daikon roots, past the meat seller with the roasted sparrows that have made me sad since I was a little girl.

   I would cross the bridge over the Kamo River to Higashiyama-ku and hear the clattering of the rickshaws carrying tourists down cobblestone streets. Geishas and maiko, the apprentice geishas, would walk by talking into their cellphones.

   I would walk faster, down the narrow street in Gion, just past the Kentucky Fried Chicken with the life-size Colonel Sanders wearing a real kimono. I would turn the corner near her noodle shop. Opening the door, and parting the goren curtain with my hand, I would see her. She would look up from her place behind the low counter.

   “But what are you doing here, my granddaughter?”

   “I missed you. I just missed you,” I would say.




Monday, June 17, 2019

Deep Discounts

Photo Credit Eve Hannah

I'm taking an online writing class this summer with teachers Robin Rice and Emily McDowell at https://www.bewhoyouare.com/ The writing prompts are pictures and we are free to write whatever we'd like to as inspired by the photo. Over the next few weeks, I'll post some of my homework. 

Here's what I wrote to go with the photo above:


“Everyone shuffle up to the front of the shelf! This is it, boys. Pipe down, Seamus! That’s not an appropriate place to put your shillelaugh , O’Leary! It’s the last day of the sale and you know the drill. Hats at a jaunty angle? Gold gleaming? Wee beards curled? For those of us who aren’t purchased today, I think we all know what’s next. That’s right lads – The 99 Cent Store. We’ll be jammed onto a shelf with the leftover Santas and the Valentine’s cherubs. And everyone knows those cherubs are crazy as a box of Kilarney rats. Shhh settle a minute. That lady in the green sweater is putting Shawn in her cart! Everyone together. Luck o’ the us to you, Shawn! Who exactly is making the fart noise? Conor O’Sullivan, I’m looking at you. Yes, as a matter of fact I do have eyes in the back of my head. Smile harder boys or it’s the scrap heap for all of us, or worse yet the Goodwill Pay-Per Pound Outlet!”



Sunday, June 16, 2019

Smacksy Sunday Links



Advice about happiness from a nearly ninety-year-old.

Buyers remorse and forgotten things.

Smart phones are toys first, tools second.

This loft comes with a green house. Reminds me of the movie Green Card.

David Byrne and Heroes.

The best dads in the animal kingdom.

Happy Father's Day Sunday.


Friday, June 14, 2019

A Time and a Place

Photo Credit Julie Moore

I'm taking an online writing class this summer with teachers Robin Rice and Emily McDowell at https://www.bewhoyouare.com/ The writing prompts are pictures and we are free to write whatever we'd like to as inspired by the photo.


A Time and a Place

   Rose Davies sat next to Tommy Miller in his brand-new yellow Studebaker, parked in front of the Davies’ home. Murdock Street was lined with tidy lawns, and the kind of houses built from kits bought from the Sears Roebuck catalog after the Great War.

   “There’s a time and a place for everything, Thomas Miller. Where’s the fire?”

   “This is the time and we’ve got the place. With your folks out of town, you’re just knockin’ around in that empty house all by your lonesome. Why not let me in and we’ll make a night of it?”

   “Can’t we just wait two more weeks? I want our wedding night to be special.”

   “It’ll be special all right, even more special with a little warm up, if you get my meaning,” Tommy winked.

   “Oh, I get your meaning loud and clear.” She turned to face Tommy. He looked at her expectantly and flashed her one of his dynamite smiles. How could she resist those blue eyes? And those dimples? She was only human.

   Tommy hopped onto the bed. He scattered the stuffed animals off of the pillows and patted the yellow quilt beside him by way of invitation. Rose slowly unzipped her red party dress then inhaled sharply and zipped it back up.

   “What gives, Gorgeous?” said Tommy.

   “Hold your horses.” Rose quickly walked around the room, turning the holy pictures to face the walls. ”It doesn’t feel right with our Lord and Savior as an audience.”

“Three’s a crowd,” said Tommy and the dynamite smile returned.



Gardening

 
We're growing tomatoes, peppers, and four kinds of squash. We've got an orange tree and a lemon tree. And one sunbather.

Wednesday, June 12, 2019

Tracks

Photo Credit Jeff Stroud

I'm taking an online writing class this summer with teachers Robin Rice and Emily McDowell at https://www.bewhoyouare.com/ The writing prompts are pictures and we are free to write whatever we'd like to as inspired by the photo. Over the next few weeks, I'll post some of my homework. 

When I close my eyes against the light, I am ten-years-old. Nancy Callahan and I set pennies on the rusty tracks down the hill from our street. When the ground begins shaking, the herald of the oncoming train, we run into the bushes to wait next to our Schwinns. Loganberry thorns stick to our shorts. We watch for the tell-tale sparks as the locomotive hits our pennies. Copper meeting steel on this foggy morning. The pennies are tossed off the tracks, flattened out and taking on the shape of time speeding past. We stuff them in with the other flat coins in our pockets. One coin for every day of summer.


The rust is just age, it rubs off in my hand.