FRIDAY POETRY DAY: Halloween

Halloween

My brain is filled with eerie thoughts

To frighten adults and tiny tots

Thoughts of monsters fill my head--

Frankenstein, Dracula, and the undead.

© 2017 Teresa Kander

Story Fragment #18: Roberta the bored housewife

Roberta Atkins, known to her friends as Bobbie, had the same routine day after day. She would get the twins, James and Jessica, to the bus stop with only seconds to spare, after seeing her husband, Charles, off to the train station for his morning commute to the city. Then it was time to head to her daily yoga class, after which she would make a grocery run to pick up everything she needed for dinner. Then it would be time to head back home, have a quick lunch, run the dishwasher, do a load of laundry, straighten the clutter and do whatever other chores she could accomplish before she had to meet the twins at the bus stop. Once they were home, she would fix them a snack, get them started on their homework, and start prepping dinner. Charles would come rushing in just as dinner went on the table, and the meal would pass with everyone but Bobbie sharing the highlights of their day. Then it was time to load the dishwasher, get the kids to bed, and watch an hour or two of mind-numbing television before dropping into bed exhausted.

Imagine the surprise on her family's faces tonight at dinner when she tells them her afternoon had been spent at the firing range, shooting an AK-47 --and that she had bought one for herself.

Story Fragment #17: Surprising Message

As I walked the length of the strip mall that quiet Saturday morning, my mind was going in a hundred different directions. I had several errands to run, then I planned to spend the afternoon finishing a project for work. With all that going on in my head, it was surprising that the note on the sidewalk even caught my attention.

I think it was the paper itself that caught my eye, as it looked so completely out of place on the gray sidewalk. It was a lovely shade of blue, with geometric shapes outlined in black, and each row of shapes had a smaller inner shape, with the rows alternating turquoise, white and black. It was a tiny corner of the paper, which had been jaggedly ripped from the rest.

Fascinated, I bent to pick up the scrap of paper. When I flipped it over, I discovered a short five-word message: "Please help--trapped in Walmart." My entire agenda for the day had just been turned on its head.

FRIDAY POETRY DAY: Ice Cream

The frozen treat which fills my dreams

Is tasty mint chocolate chip ice cream

Its color is green

The chips can be seen

A small bite of heaven it seems.

© 2017 Teresa Kander

Story Fragment #16: Jamal

Description of person: six feet tall, slender, extremely short hair (brown), 30s, mocha colored skin, brown eyes, t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

Jamal walked confidently between the buildings. The important thing, he knew, was to act as though he belonged there, so as not to draw attention to himself.

Dressed in jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers, he could easily pass for an off-duty airman, which was the cover he had prepared should one be necessary. His brown hair was closely cropped, and his six-foot frame was slender, yet had the muscle tone of someone who valued physical fitness.

Casually checking the numbers on the building in front of him, he realized he had reached his destination. Now to find the proper office and charm his way inside.

Fortunately for Jamal, he bore a striking resemblance to an actual airman in Colonel Scott's squadron, and he was able to use that man's identity to gain entrance to places he might never reach otherwise.

He stopped at the reception desk outside the cluster of offices which included Colonel Scott's, greeting the young woman at the desk. "Hello, Janice. How's your day going?"

"Not a bad day so far, Andy.  What can I do for you--you know the colonel isn't in today, right?"

"Sure do! That's actually why I'm here--he sent me to get some files he forgot to pick up this morning."

"I swear, sometimes I think he needs me to do everything for him, " Janice smiled. "Go on in and get them. I'm heading to lunch, so make sure you lock his office when you leave."

(Steals classified files for foreign government and is pursued by Bond-like spy.)

Story Fragment #15: Life In The Rust Belt

Life In The Rust Belt

Ashley Wakersby had spent her entire life in this Rust Belt town, as had several generations of her family before her. At one time, it had been a thriving area, but now it was filled with empty storefronts and abandoned factories. 

The neighborhood where Ashley lived was also suffering from the economic downturn. Where there used to be families in every home who knew their neighbors as well as they knew themselves, now there was an abundance of empty houses with boarded-up windows--places which hadn't held a family in a decade or more. The few houses which were still inhabited contained people who kept to themselves, who didn't even know the names of the others on the block, much less anything about them.

Ashley had spent forty-five of her sixty-five years in this house on Marigold Lane. She and Carl had moved in as newlyweds, raised their son and daughter here, and Carl had passed away here two years ago. Since his death, Ashley had found it more and more difficult to go outside the house.

Having the internet made staying home so easy for her. She could pay all her bills, order her groceries, listen to audiobooks or read ebooks from the library.

(Discuss hoarding, fancy food traditions--champagne, caviar, pate--etc.)

FRIDAY POETRY DAY: Yoda Poetry

As you may have guessed, Yoda poetry is poetry written the way Yoda speaks--and it's harder to write than you might think.  This is my first (and so far, only, attempt).

Blowing through the clear blue sky cotton candy clouds are.

Shining on my face warm sunlight is.

With each step in the soft green grass I take,

Tickle my toes it does.

©  2017 Teresa Kander 

Story Fragment #14: Write a script scene of two people in conflict

The voice actor for a popular children's show has died, and the two characters in this scene are auditioning for the role.

Character #1: Gerry
Thinks Penelope is an entitled princess
Is sleeping with the show's producer
Wants to be successful to show up his twin brother, a writer on the show.

Character #2: Penelope
Thinks Gerry will ruin her father's legacy
Daughter of previous voice actor
Wants to win an award

Scene: Reception area outside producer's office. P sitting in a chair, waiting to audition, along with numerous others.
G enters and takes last remaining chair, next to P.?

P:  Oh no--MUST you sit there?
G: Believe me, Princess, if there were any other seats available, I'd want to be as far away from you as possible.
P: Fine. Just sit there and don't talk to me then. I can't believe you'd even show your face at this audition.
G: Me? What about you? I suppose you think that Daddy's little girl should just get the role handed to her?
P: Of course not--I'm banking on my talent, unlike you, who has to try to sleep his way to the top.
G: My relationship with Lily had nothing to do with it. I'm obviously the better choice to be the new Puddy Numkin.
P: Oh please! I've been preparing for this role my whole life--listening to Dad rehearse and talk about his motivation. I know this little cuddle bug inside and out--what do YOU know about him?
G: I know this role will be the key to the rest of my career. Kids love the little furball, and I'll be famous as his voice--and then the offers for other work will start pouring in...hopefully something a little less juvenile!

P gawks open-mouthed as the receptionist calls G in to read.

Story Fragment #13: Jean-Paul

Jean-Paul Robillard arrived at the lush penthouse apartment of his client, Hank Atkins, precisely at 10 am, just as he had done every morning for the last six months.

"Cuddles!" he called out. Are you ready for zee morning stroll?"

A fuzzy black toy poodle sped toward him, coming out of a door Jean-Paul knew led to Hank's study.

"Naughty girl--you know Hank doesn't allow you in zhere," Jean-Paul chided as he approached her with her leash.

Rather than meekly sitting at his feet, as was her usual custom, Cuddles turned and ran back into the study with a loud bark.

"No games this morning, Cuddles--I have a schedule to keep. Let's get going, non?"

As soon as he entered the study, Jean-Paul's bright blue eyes widened at the scene. Cuddles was pacing back and forth along the length of her owner's body, which lay in front of his desk. Jean-Paul couldn't discern Hank's injuries, but there was enough blood on the beige carpeting to make it obvious they were serious.

The Frenchman reached into his jacket pocket, intending to pull out his phone and call 911, but instead he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head just before everything went black.

When he came to a few minutes later--or he assumed it was just a few minutes, at least--he noticed a fireplace poker that had been left on the floor next to him, and surmised that was the weapon which had been used to render him unconscious. As soon as he could sit up without the room spinning, he made the 911 call. While he waited for help to arrive, he searched the apartment for Cuddles, but she appeared to have vanished along with his attacker, whom he presumed to all be the person who had injured Hank.