Story Photo: First Words

by Sara on February 20, 2012

photo by sara b. healy

Let’s get right to it. You stepped outside the door and there he was, staring at you. He opened his little mouth and said…

Your Challenge

Your challenge is to fill in the first words this little guy said to you.

Here’s my take:

“Please help me. I put my fingers in my ears and now they’re stuck.”

Special Challenge

Create a brief dialogue between you and this little silver guy.

A belated thank you.

Patricia over at Patricia’s Wisdom gave me a blog award recently — The Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award. I wanted to thank her for this honor. It was very nice of her to think of me. I love Patricia’s site, especially her book reviews. I can’t tell you how many books I would have missed, if not for her review. My library grows with each review and I’m usually not disappointed:~)

 

{ 7 comments }

Photo Challenge: The Face-Off

by Sara on February 13, 2012

photo by sara b. healy (click to enlarge)

While walking on the beach one day, I came across two strange creatures I’d never seen before. They’d come from far, far, far…take my word it…very far away!

When I stumbled upon them, they were in a face-off with each other. I snapped this quick picture before they were yanked away by some unseen force and disappeared. I never saw them again.

Your Challenge

Answer one or more of the questions listed below. In your comment, be sure to let us know which questions you picked to answer.

If you choose #5 be sure to give your creatively crafted question, as well your creatively crafted answer:~)

  1. What are the names of the two creatures?
  2. Where did they come from?
  3. Why are they in a face-off?
  4. What force yanked them away and why?
  5. Make up your own question and answer it.

If you dare, you can click on the photo to enlarge it so you can see the creatures better. Be careful, they are a scary pair.

Have fun, be creative and, by all means, enjoy this challenge:~)

{ 20 comments }

Beach Fire

by Sara on February 9, 2012

Write on Edge prompt: Pick four numbers, each between 1 and 10. The first number will be for your character, the second your setting, the third the time and the fourth will be the situation.

Then take the four elements and combine them into a short story of 500 words or less.

I picked numbers 6, 7, 8 and 9 and ended up with the following: Character: A homeless man; Setting: A beach; Time: in the middle of a fire and Situation: something embarrassing happens. Here’s my fiction take on this prompt.

Orange-red flames jumped out of the windows of my burning house.

I stood on the beach, coughing and shivering in my nightgown, holding Fred, my dog, tightly in my arms. The waves made me angry; so much useless water.

In the distance, sirens cried. Given the beach road, I knew it’d be awhile before they arrived.

Fred’s incessant barking had woken me to the popping and cracking of my burning living room. I ran for the fire extinguisher only to remember it was broken. I’d been meaning to replace it.

By then, the fire had taken charge. Fred and I took off for the beach. Now, we watched my new house disappear into smoke.

Fred growled. I jumped. A scruffy looking man stepped out from behind a big dune and walked towards us. Great!  It was the homeless guy I’d heard about; the one who lived in a dune.

As he reached us, he asked, “What happened?”

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? My house is burning!”

“I meant how did it happen? Why didn’t you use your extinguisher?”

“I couldn’t find it!” I lied, not needing another person to remind me of my own stupidity.

“I’m Bill. I live over there.” He pointed vaguely towards the dunes. Then, he held out his dirty hand, like he was greeting me at a party.” His oniony odor made me wince.

Fred squirmed in my arms. He was getting heavy.

“Let me take him. I’ll use my belt as a leash.”

“Well, I guess so, but only for a minute.”

He looped his belt around Fred’s neck, ignoring his snarls, but not my babydoll nightgown. With hot cheeks, I wrapped my arms around my chest. Fred peed on a beer can.

The fire engines arrived. Men pulled hoses and sprayed water. After their life-saving attempts failed, they declared the house dead.

“If you want, you can stay at my place until you get things settled.” Bill offered.

I stared at this scruffy man. All politeness abandoned me. “What? You live in a dune!”

Confusion filled his eyes. In the morning light, they were a lovely shade of green.

“What made you think I lived in a dune?”

Comprehension hit us both at the same time.

“You thought I was the homeless guy, didn’t you?” Feathery eye wrinkles formed as he smiled with gleaming white teeth.

“You came from the dunes, you look scruffy and, well, you smell. What else was I to think?” Honesty seemed the best policy.

Bill put his head back and laughed.

“I look this way because I’ve been remodeling a house! Come on, I’ll make you breakfast at my house. It even has a guest room!”

Exhausted, I followed him.

The fire was Fred’s fault. He’d dragged the smoldering disposable grill I’d cooked dinner on into the house. The rest was history.

I got my insurance money and used it to buy one of Bill’s refurbished beach houses. Naturally, I selected the one closest to his house:~)

There’s more….

This fiction story is based on a true story about a dog causing a fire. Check it out:~)

{ 38 comments }

Define it!

by Sara on February 7, 2012

While traveling the blogosphere, I frequently use the “word verification” boxes when leaving a comment at some sites. I know some people complain about these, but I actually enjoy them.

I get a kick out of many of the words appearing in the box. I like to save them. They’re not meant to make any sense, but sometimes I find myself playing with possible definitions.

Slang Words

Given my age, I also often come across slang words I’ve never heard of. When this happens, I turn to the Urban Dictionary for help. Not only do I find a definition, but I also have fun reading these definitions. CAUTION: Some of the definitions can be crass, but many are really funny: Here’s an example:

Emo — Genre of softcore punk music that integrates unenthusiastic melodramatic 17 year olds who don’t smile, high pitched overwrought lyrics and inaudible guitar rifts with tight wool sweaters, tighter jeans, itchy scarfs (even in the summer), ripped chucks with favorite bands signature, black square rimmed glasses, and ebony greasy unwashed hair that is required to cover at least 3/5 ths of the face at an angle.

::sniff sniff:: “The Demise of the Siberian Traintracks of Our Rusty Forgotten Unblemished Love” sounds like it would make a great emo band name. ::cry::

Your challenge

Pick a word from of the list below and define it. You are welcome to choose more than one, if you want, but be sure to indicate which word(s) you used.

  1. Flump
  2. Eyelumes
  3. Barmarv
  4. Logdo
  5. Scaryp

Extra Credit

For extra credit, write your definition using the slightly sarcastic approach taken by the Urban Dictionary. Notice the details in the above description of “emo.” The word limit is 75 words or less.

Have fun with this:~)

{ 24 comments }

Colicky Baby

by Sara on February 2, 2012

This fiction story was written to the following Write on Edge prompt: Show us in 400 words or less how your character reacts to a piece of music.

It can advance a story line or provide a character sketch–or both!

 

Jack thought about dropping off his baby son at the nearest fire station. Instead, he tossed the pillow he’d been holding over his head on the floor and sat up.

Through the light under the closed door, Emmie’s feet paced. He opened the door. Ear-piercing wailing blasted him.

Emmie gave a weary smile. “It’s the colic. He won’t stop crying, Jack.”

“I’m not deaf. I hear him!” His son’s face was red and his eyes were scrunched. He took a big breath and wailed again.

“Let me take him.” He reached for his son as Emmie whispered, “Thanks.”

“Can you feed him?” Jack jiggled the crying baby.

Emmie sighed. “I just did, it didn’t help!”

The phone rang.

“Who’s calling at two o’clock in the morning?” Emmie raised her voice over the baby’s crying.

Jack handed Ben back to her and picked up the phone. A hoarse, but familiar voice spoke. “Please quiet the baby! I’m sick, but I have to work in the morning!” Click.

“Who was it?” Emmie asked, trying to get the pacifier in the baby’s mouth.

“Our neighbor! Ben woke him up again.”

Emmie cheeks grew red. “I’m so sorry! He’s a nice young man!”

“It’s not your fault, babe.” He pushed Emmie to the couch.

“Sit down. Bounce him on your knees, like your mom said.” Emmie did. For just a minute or two, silence descended, but it didn’t last. It never did.

“I’m a terrible mom!” Emmie began to cry. Loud. Piercing. Sobs. Baby Ben joined her. Jack was out of ideas.

The phone rang. He grabbed it. It was his neighbor again. His voice sounded worse. “I had colic as a baby. My dad used Thriller!”

“What?” Jack could hardly hear him over the crying.

“Michael Jackson’s song. Play it!” The call disconnected.

“It was that young man again, wasn’t it.” Emmie wiped her tears and bounced Ben.

“He gave me an idea! I need my laptop.”

“Why?”

Jack didn’t answer. He got his laptop, turned it on. After a minute or two, music filled the room. Emmie looked at Jack, uncertainty in her eyes.

“This song will help?”

“Let’s try it, Emmie. We’ve done everything else.”

Jack sat down beside Emmie. The music played. They watched Ben’s crying slowly become sniffles. Then he yawned. By the time the music ended, his parents were smiling at each other. Baby Ben was sound asleep.

This story has its roots in a true story. A friend of mine had a colicky baby. He found his baby liked the song Thriller. He’d turn it on and dance with his son until the baby fell asleep.

YouTube Preview Image

{ 39 comments }

Picture Story: Odd Man Out

by Sara on January 30, 2012

sara b. healy photo (click to enlarge)

The phrase, “Odd Man Out” is often defined as “Something or someone who differs markedly from the others in a group.” In this group of seagulls, there is an “odd man out.”

Your challenge

Pick one or more of these questions and leave your creative answers in the comment box. HINT: Make something up:~)

  1. How did this bird end up being the “odd man out?”
  2. Why is he hanging out with these gulls?
  3. What is his name and why was he given this name?

Quickie Challenge

Name the kind of bird that is the “odd man out.” HINT: The Byrds sang a song with the bird’s name, but spelled differently. Here are the first few lines:

To Everything….blank, blank blank…
There is a season…blank, blank, blank…
And a time to every purpose, under Heaven

p. s. I’m pretty sure I’m right about the kind of bird my little “odd man out” is, but if you think differently, please else tell me:~)

{ 27 comments }

Oldies, but Goodies

by Sara on January 27, 2012

Photo by GlobalP

Need a laugh?

I desperately wanted to write something funny today, but it didn’t happen. In frustration, I started cleaning computer files instead. I tend to be a pack rat and keep tons of “stuff” on my computer.

Lucky me! In my clean-up, I found something funny. I have no idea where I got this writing from, but it made me laugh again. I thought it would be fun to put it up at my site.

You may have read it as it’s been around the blogosphere, but even oldies are goodies sometimes:~)

If you’ve read it and don’t want to read it again, be sure to scroll down to: “Give credit where credit is due…” You’re in for another really funny treat:~)

DOG DIARY
8:00 am – Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am – A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am – A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am – Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 PM – Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 PM – Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 PM – Wagged my tail! My favorite Thing !
5:00 PM – Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 PM – Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 PM – Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 PM – Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!

CAT DIARY
Day 983 of my captivity.

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.

They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a ‘good little hunter’ I am. B#stards!

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of ‘allergies.’ I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow — but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches.

The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released – and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.

Give credit where credit is due…

I don’t like to put things up at my site without giving a source.

So, when I decided to put this writing up, I turned to Google. I never found the source for the “Dog Diary.” If you know what it is, pass it on to me.

I was lucky and found the source for the “Cat Diary.” In the process, I discovered someone amazingly funny.

The source of the Cat Diary comes from a cartoon, Finding the Cat’s Diary, illustrated by Dan Piraro in 1995. Dan has a blog, Bizarro Comics, which features his cartoons.

I will not regret looking for this source. Once I got to his site, I had a hard time staying in my chair because I laughed so hard. I love his cartoons and the stories behind them. He’s a very talented and funny man!

For those of you, who like cartoons, do stop by his site. You will not regret it. And if someone sends you the Dog and Cat Diary, be sure to remind the them, The Cat Diary, while embellished, does have an actual source — Dan Piraro!

Photo Source: GlobalP

 

{ 32 comments }

Doing Nothing

by Sara on January 23, 2012

photo by sara b. healy

Why do some days flow like fast running rivers, while others creep along like brackish ponds? You stare at the computer willing the words to type themselves, but the page stares back at you, maybe even sticks its paper-tongue out at you.

That’s how it was for me today. I began the morning by staring at the empty white page on my computer. No words wanted to play with me. I finally pulled out my “works in progress,” but even they looked boring.

The truth was I wanted to do nothing, but since I did nothing yesterday. I felt guilty about doing TWO days of nothing in a row! That seemed so lazy and I’m not usually a lazy person.

Also, today is Monday. Work MUST be done; it’s the first day of the week. Still, no words formed themselves into creative and exciting sentences. The cupboard seemed empty.

I got another cup of coffee, thinking maybe that would help, but no, the blank paper was still waiting for me when I came back.

I did a 360 in my office chair, which made me realize my plants needed watering. After this was done, I sat back down, but still faced the same empty page glaring at me.

In addition, after weeks of cloudy chilly weather, it was an absolutely beautiful day where I’m at. The sun was out, the birds were singing and, boy oh boy, I wanted to be sitting on my porch, like Aggie.

She was lying in her cat “tree,” looking totally relaxed. The sun was warming her fur, like I wanted it to warm my face. I found myself wishing for the zillionth time I was a cat and had nothing to do, but sit.

With a heavy sigh, I turned back to the computer. My stomach churned. I begged my fingers to find something…anything, but nothing at all was there. I reminded my computer that people counted on me. I couldn’t let them down. It just hummed back at me.

In frustration, I turned to my bookshelf for inspiration. Surely, there was something to get me moving. I thumbed through books, but still nothing! I was getting desperate.

Then, buried under a stack of books I’ve been meaning to shelve, I found a book of meditation quotes. Why not give it a try? I opened the book and picked a page at random.

I closed my eyes and ran my finger down the page, letting it find a place to stop. When I opened my eyes and read the quote, I laughed out loud.

“Don’t just do something – sit there!”  ~ Author Unknown

The Universe played a joke on me. It was a kindly one; a little poke in the ribs, reminding me sometimes it’s important to take a break and meditate on a beautiful day.

I ended up doing just that. I went to my porch and sat until the sun dropped off to sleep. It didn’t bring me great wisdom, but it did help me find something to write:~)

What about you?

I recognize some people work full time or have other responsibilities keeping them busy during the day. So, finding time to sit on a porch in the sun may not be so easy.

Still, I think the intent of this quote is important. It’s a message about how we choose to live our lives. Think about it as you consider answering one or more of these questions:

  1. What’s this quote mean to you?
  2. How long can you be totally “unplugged,” meaning no cell phone, computer, T.V., etc. — just you and the quiet?
  3. When’s the last time, other than holidays and weekends, you took a full day off of work, whatever your work might be?

 

{ 24 comments }

Story Photo: The Sea Shell

by Sara on January 19, 2012

photo by sara b. healy (click to enlarge)

Picture challenge

What would this sea shell say, if it could talk?

{ 28 comments }

Fiction Friday: The Wine Tasting

by Sara on January 13, 2012

The RWH prompt from Write on Edge: In four hundred words or less, write a fiction piece based on a definition of the word “flavor.”

I’m not sure I totally got this prompt right, but I had lots of fun writing it. Thanks to Cameron for suggesting it:~)

 

“Class, swirl your wine and sniff it.” Mattie’s voice was so serious, Harrison almost laughed.

Usually, Mattie was the one laughing, but this was the final test for her Wine Educator Certificate. He was here to give her moral support.

Harrison swirled his wine. The woman beside him followed his example, but spilled wine down her shirt.

She giggled. “Oops, my bad!”

Mattie sighed. Harrison handed the woman his handkerchief, noticing her twinkly green eyes.

“Who wants to tell us what they smell?” Mattie asked.

The woman with the stained shirt waved her hand. “I’ll try!”

Mattie looked wary, but no one else volunteered. “Okay, Lilly, what do you smell?”

Lilly sniffed. The wine went up her nose. She sneezed. Red wine flew everywhere. People ducked. Harrison laughed out loud; he couldn’t help himself.

Lilly lifted her glass. “Sorry! It went up my nose. Let me try again.” Mattie stopped her.

“That’s okay, Lilly! Let’s taste our wine now.”

After everyone had a taste, Mattie asked Harrison, “What flavors do you taste in the wine, sir?

He swirled the wine in his mouth and spit it out. “I think I taste blackberries, a hint of vanilla and maybe…chocolate?”  He made his voice uncertain.

“You’ve got a good palate!” Mattie acted like he’d won a prize. Both knew he had more than a good palate! After all, he was a Master Sommelier.

“It tastes like wine to me, but it’s good!” Lilly put her glass down with a clunk. Red wine spilled again.

Mattie glared at Lilly, but didn’t say anything.

The class progressed. Lilly spilled more wine. She laughed at her klutziness. Harrison liked her ease with herself; she wasn’t pretentious, kind of like his favorite Pinot Noir.

As Mattie enthused about the flavors of wine, all Harrison wanted was to taste the flavors of Lilly. Breathing in her smell – jasmine, citrus, with a hint of deodorant – he watched her sip her wine. Heat rose in his face thinking about tasting her full red lips.

She left early, disappointing Harrison. But when he stepped outside, she was waiting wearing a sexy grin.

He discovered she was also a Sommelier, but hired to test Mattie’s ability to handle difficult students. Mattie passed, just barely.

Later that night over a bottle of wine, Harrison leaned over, kissed Lilly and said, “Hmmm. Sweet, slightly salty with just a hint of an excellent Pinot.

{ 36 comments }

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