Suzie’s House 459 : The Lethal Machinations of a Maniacal Kook? AKA a Reputation
Drew unplugged the laptop. Some people might think you wouldn’t ruin the battery by leaving it plugged in over night, but he’d read the manual. No point in making the charge cycle any shorter than it had to be.
Washed Up
Merriam the Mermaid washed up on shore at ten on a Saturday night. The bars along the shore were hopping. She had a little trouble getting her land legs under her, but once on her new feet, she made straight for the brightest lights around.
Inside the bar was dark and smoky. She didn’t let that deter her. All she needed was to lure ten men into the sea where her tribe could turn them into dinner. Then a quick trip back to the sea witch and she’d be back in business.
She opened her mouth to unleash her siren song, but the bouncer stopped her.
“Karaoke night is Wednesday. Come back then.”
The Challenge: Write a story in 100 words or less
The Hub: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
The Photo Credit:Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Coffee Plantation
We stopped off at a place that was known to grow and sell coffee. They did quite a bit more than that. For instance, the ginger plant above grew in the couple dozen yards between the parking area and the tasting area. So did a lot of other spices.
Suzie’s House 458 : A Counter Proposition
Emma kept her mouth shut. She wasn’t at all sure what they should do. On the one hand the deal Miranda offered seemed too good to be true. On the other, it wouldn’t be the first offer the band had been given that turned out wasn’t like it seemed at all. It wasn’t like any of them were ignorant, happy-go-lucky types that would be all joyous the first time someone paid them any attention. Not anymore. Maybe.
She glanced at Bruce. If there was anyone here who would object, wouldn’t it be him? He had objected to a lot of what Uncle John had suggested, and that was his own uncle.
Seen and Not Heard
“Don’t say anything,” Mother pushed her into the Quaker’s house for the meeting.
“No no,” Mother’s well-meaning friend said. “She should say whatever The Lord moves her to say.”
“If you let her get started, we will never hear the end of it. We’ve already had to switch congregations twice.” To her daughter she said in a harsh whisper, “Say nothing! Nothing all.”
She was good. For a whole hour she sat in the pews, listening to the grownups talking about the greatness of The Lord. Did they really believe all they said? She didn’t! At the end, the leader said, “I feel there is still a brother or sister here who wishes to testify. Please speak now.”
No one said anything. She cleared her throat. Mother slapped her forehead and groaned.
The Challenge: Write a story in 100 words or less
The Hub: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
The Photo Credit: J Hardy Carroll
Yeah, I went way over. I’m sorry. I cut 30 words, but it was no where near enough.
Trunyan Village and the Bali Aga Cemetery
We split the group in two, and took two boats across Lake Batur, which is a crater left from an old volcanic explosion. That means the lake is roughly circular with a very steep lip. There isn’t a lot of room between the water and the top. Trunyan Village is wedged into that little space. The houses extend right onto the water and the rice fields are terraced into steep slopes.
Suzie’s House 457 : A Proposition
“Don’t look at me like that.” Drew didn’t mean to snap at Vin, but he was getting so tired of the way the adults in the house looked at him. “I don’t need any pity. Not from you, and not from Miranda either.”
He gestured at where Miranda stood in front of the TV, facing all the kids from Gene’s band. Her smile was positively giddy, though she probably intended an enchanting smile. Vin stood in the doorway to the den with the tentative stance of someone who can’t decide if he’s going to settle in or running away.
Shared Dreams
Ted and Anita sat on the deck of her yacht with wine spritzers in one hand and paintbrushes in the other.
“No, no. I think this part needs more viridian.”
“What are we painting here? A landscape or a UFO? This is exactly why I said co-painting wouldn’t work. You can’t get across a clear vision when two minds are competing on one canvas.”
“But the whole point is that we are so closely attuned we can overcome the normal boundaries of the creative process. Our joint painting is the symbol of our unity of thought and feeling.”
“So? What ARE we painting?”
“A UFO.”
The Challenge: Write a story in 100 words or less
The Hub: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
The Photo Credit: CEAYR
The Kintamani Volcano Area
There’s a town on the other side of Lake Batur whose name escapes me. It’s set up on a ridge. The ridge is so narrow that only the road down the middle fits. The buildings on either side spill down the sides. We stopped there for lunch.
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Suzie’s House 456 : An Advertising Agent Comes Home
Miranda could tell from the babble of voices coming from the den that the kids were in the house again. It irritated her that they felt so free to run wild in her cherished home. The pack of teenagers were always underfoot, but Suzie was hardly ever home anymore. Nothing had turned out as Miranda originally envisioned when she suggested Suzie turn the house into a boarding house.
A loud thump and laughter came from the den over the sound of some garage band on the TV. Miranda started for the stairs, then changed her mind. That loud thump could mean something needed to be moped up or repaired. She went to check it out.
Forest Fire Season
Forest Fire Season has already begun. Who knew?
Apparently the fires started to the East of me. Normally the wind will blow them further East along with the jet stream, so it isn’t too surprising I hadn’t noticed the smoke building up in the valley. The surprising and scary part is that the fires started in February.
It seems the central part of Montana had an unusually warm and dry winter. 50 deg. F in the middle of February? Yeah – too warm! I’m just praying it won’t break any more records in the next few months. Not that kind anyway.
As to the Totally Random Picture above – It was taken in Java while walking around on a volcano we couldn’t see for all the ash in the air. I was trying to capture the butterfly.
Bird on the Wire
The battery died, but there were three bars of reception where there had been none all day. He knew he wasn’t supposed to touch the smart phone while it recharged. He didn’t care. The more he texted, the more his fingers tingled. Still he clicked on. He told the girl he liked everything he was feeling. It was easier to do it through the phone than in person. Finally, he clicked the send button. Within minutes his inbox filled. He had sent it to Twitter by mistake. His heart was retweeted under #love for all to see.
The Challenge: Write a story in 100 words or less
The Hub: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
The Photo Credit: Roger Bultot
