Category Archives: Weekly Wordle

The Distance

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I cringe at the horizon that gives me pause as I sit on a crescent ledge and stew over the possibilities. There be giant monsters here.  I only need to travel a short distance, but the terrain from when I last visited this place has changed. The comfort of the familiar, now replaced by the exotic of a new clime.  Longanimity among my kind has made me tough, but cautious. I know how dangerous it can be, but I will not let fear be the pasty jailer that holds me back. Belatedly, I remember I was out in the open while my mind filtered through various strategies when the world vibrates in sound and a rapidly approaching darkness looms over head.

I’ve been seen by one of the giants that roam here. Death is all but a certainty when afflatus strikes and I make a run across the emerald landscape for the crevice ahead. The blast of air that propels me toward my goal is only equal in terror to the noise of the impact narrowly missing where I just stood.  I skitter into the narrow space between counter and the oven, hearing the giant bellow in frustration as I drop out of reach.

swat-green

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Yes, this from the view of the cockroach.
I fully bless (blame?) the Wordle graphic for the inspiration.

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Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie | Weekly Wordle #145

Crescent, Exotic, Ledge, Longanimity, Filter, Stew, Pasty, Afflatus, Emerald, Jailer, Cringe, Noise

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem. The words can appear in an alternate form, in any order that you like.

Let Me Be There

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15

Sometimes life just isn’t good,
Nothing feels right, nothing feels like it should
Let me be the one you call
Let me be there

It’s the Tree of Life, we all get to climb
But you may feel you’re out on a weak limb
If you jump I’ll break your fall
Let me be there

Abandon the flaws, just forget it
But never give up on belief in mirabilia, let it
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
Let me be there 

When you feel the apotropaic fail
I can hold you close should you want to wail
If you need to fall apart
Let me be there 

Let me be the lucida of your soul
Should the darkness baldly enter, grow to take control
I can mend a broken heart
Let me be there 

Hey, it’s plausible that you’re only human
That there will be days when it’s just more than
If you need to crash, then crash and burn
Let me be there 

We’re all in this through tense and tender
So on the days that you feel different remember
You’re not alone
Let me be there
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Italicized lines from “Crash and Burn” by Savage Garden
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie| Music Prompt # 75 “Crash and Burn”

Bold words from:
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Wordle #144 “February 27th, 2017″

Good, Enter, Tree, Mirabilis, Different, Abandon, Plausible, Lucida, Bald, Flaw, Apotropaic, Grow

Use at least ten in a poem or story.

Real Toads: The Tuesday Platform

MLMM: Atriocaval Shunt

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Can I live without him? Unfortunately, yes.
Will I want to? No. God, No.

I sit here and listen to the beep of the heart monitor. It used to be a most gall and wormwood noise before – when it was attached to someone else. It is the most wonderful sound in my world right now. For as long as I hear that sound, that beep, I know his heart still beats, and as his beats – so does mine. Because he is my heart and no one ever wants their warm heart to be attached to a frigid heart monitor. It was so touch and go in the beginning, he coded twice in the ER. The damage to him was that massive. And I sit here by his side, again in the fruitless mental exercise of how we got here.

My bike was showing its age; I didn’t trust it enough to participate in the upcoming Annual All City Cycle so he and I were at our favorite bike shop perusing for a new one.  I was looking at a ridiculously expensive silver and carbon frameset when he called my name to check out a vintage apple red Schwinn that was on display near the showcase window facing the street. I turned just in time to see a car careening towards him at a rapid speed. A woman having a massive heart attack, lost control of the vehicle and crashed into the window of the store. It was less than a heartbeat’s pause – just time for me to scream, not enough time at all for him to dive out of the way before the car jumped the curb, shattering glass panes and my world into a million fragments.

I have been here nearly every day and night for over three weeks now. Our assistant Margie has been such a godsend, showing her talents by holding down the fort at the office in a cinch, but I can see the strain is beginning to get to her. We will give her one hell of a raise once we are back at the office. I will feel so guilty if the business falls into a less lucrative position that what it was before all of this happened. However, its potential failure will not appease the guilt I will feel if he awakens and I am not here. I have only left his side to shower because it drives me more than halfway insane – the grimy feel of being in a sterile hospital 24/7, and yes, I appreciate the irony of it.

There is a difference between sympathy and empathy and you learn it at times like this. Most of our clients are sympathetic, but business is business – they want theirs taken care of, and logically, I understand that. Yet I take one look at him lying there and I could not possibly care less right now.  One of our overseas clients, who had gone through what I’m going through now, sent over a nature sound machine. When I called to thank him and ask why, he says that he had used one when his wife was in a coma a few years back.  He does not know if really worked, but what could it hurt, right? I checked with his doctors first, who also agreed it couldn’t hurt, so I have played different sounds over the past few days.

Tonight, to accompany the palinoia of the heart monitor, I chose wind and rain sounds as it reminded me of our last trip to the coast a few months back for a different race.  A really great picture of us leading a pack of cyclists had made the papers and I pulled out the folded-up copy I always carry with me and grin. I remember the moment the shot was taken, the concentration on my face was less about the race and more about me not stopping to cuss him out yet again. That day had started out with rain and a three hour long argument, but ended with sun and our engagement.

Listening to the sounds and reminiscing, I fall into an exhausted sleep. I wake with him holding my hand.

Wait…he’s holding my hand…

I slowly move my hand to be sure and feel the grip tighten more.

My head pops up to see him smiling at me and I hear the raspiest, but most wonderful sound in three weeks, outside of the heart monitor.

“It’s about time you woke up.”

mlmm-cyclists

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Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie | Weekly Wordle #143

Apple, Frigid, Pane, Gall and Wormwood, Dive, Cinch, Halfway, Grime, Wind, Vintage, Palinoia, Pause

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem. The words can appear in an alternate form, in any order that you like.

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Writing Prompt February 19th – Randomize!

For this week, we are asked to seek inspiration in random places. What does that mean?

1st  – Use the Wikipedia! Random Article button, and the article you get, is the title of your write, in my case Atriocaval Shunt.

2nd – Go to http://writingexercises.co.uk/random-image-generator.php, to receive a random image. Post this image and connect it with your written piece. I feel the Muses, especially Calliope, were being ridiculously generous to me when the bike race image came up. Thus the above story.

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Real Toads : Tuesday Platform

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle-286 – Bar None

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Three people walk into a bar; stop at the top step and look around…

The place truly had seen better days. Cloth covers most of the major furnishings.  What was not covered by cloth was under the same thick layers of dust that covered the cloths. A few shafts of sunlight slanted across the room giving an otherworldly sparkle to the dust motes that took to flight upon their entrance and were now resettling. Desaturated of color, the many gray and black shades of dirt and dust gave a horror film quality to the place. In spite of the dust, decay had not taken root. The place had solid bones. The owner was willing to sell it for practically a song as long as someone else was willing to spend for the necessary repairs that certainly would be needed.

With a dramatic flair she takes the few steps down to the main level and walks over to a corner, grabs the edge of a cloth and flips it over onto itself revealing the upright underneath. It was unusual for its time period. Heavy walnut with mother-of-pearl inlays greeted them. Well, what was left of the inlay that is. The inlay was chipped in some places and outright missing in others.  The wood itself had its own dents and stains. Looking at it you could all but imagine someone zoot suited pulling up a stool and hammering out the rhythms of a resounding rag.  She played a couple of chords of what could be called a melody with some love and care and tuning.

Next she unveils a table which had similar inlay work. She leans a little on the table, testing its strength, nearly falling to the floor as the wobbly legs finally revealed themselves and the table broke in half as it crashed to the floor sending up a cloud of dust.   She spies the dubious face of one her companions as she fans the dust away from her and she sighs.

Slowly, they uncover the other furnishings.  Like the first table, most were in some state of disrepair, though the chandeliers looked to be in good enough condition that nothing more than a little, perhaps a lot, of elbow grease couldn’t fix.  The more they looked, the more it seemed she could see the dubious companion’s hope fall even more. The realtor knew the place was going to be a challenge.

Without a word she and the other companion look to each other knowingly. Together the husband and wife turn to the realtor looking at the two of them pretty much resigned to not making a sale.

“We’ll take it!”

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sunday whirl
The Sunday Whirl: Wordle – 286

challenge, face, half, melody, rag, resound, rhythms, root, song, stool, unusual, upright

MLMM’s Wordle #141 – Brained

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With his latest exploit leaving him temporarily unable to yell, his adroit digits fly over the keyboard. It almost seemed diabolist as the more he typed the more the words accelerated across the page in a desperate attempt to catch up with the seething mess of thoughts as they escaped the confines of his synapses. Drowning in his rage he pulled no punches. No he would not be polite in this, there will be no form of tact to soften the blows. Otherwise silent, only the rapid staccato of key strikes gave testament to his diatribe.

Minutes of manic typing pass before the cramp formed from being so tensely hunched over made him straighten his back and lift his head. He stopped cold as he caught sight of the furious expression of his likeness in the mirror off to the side. Still, the depth of his fury paled in comparison to the dazed and confused reflection of his partner standing off in a corner away from him. And just like that, the anger vanishes as he sighs in exulansis. With fanfare he yanks the sheet from the typewriter, balls it up and bins it.

Seeing the usual temper tantrum has once again passed, his partner smiles and happily bounces over to him expectantly.

“Gee, Brain. What are we going to do tonight?”
“The same thing we do every night, Pinky…”
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week-141
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie | Weekly Wordle #141

Escape, Exulansis, Diabolist, Polite, Likeness, Fanfare, Seethe, Soften, Adroit, Drown, Mess, Accelerate

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem. The words can appear in an alternate form, in any order that you like.

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For those of you who may have no idea about those last two lines – try this:

And if you’re still flummoxed go here: Pinky & The Brain.

MLMM’s Wordle # 140 – Deeper

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Enjoying a brief moment of kudoclasm, a corner of her lips turn up of as she thinks about how good it’s going to feel when he drives it home at last. Determined not to let it slip out again, she gets a firm grip his shaft.  She looks up at him expectantly, anxiously waiting for his signal.  Looking down on he, smiles grimly, placing his hand over hers, tightening their grip. When he’s ready he nods once.

With a slow, slightly twisting motion, it slides in easy for a moment and then stops in the same spot it did before. He glances at her and sees the naked resolve to get this done in her eyes. He pulls back, shifts and tries again.

And again.

And again.

Hunched over her, he feels the sweat of his exertions drip, sees it land on her. She is beyond caring, her breath coming in short gasps as she concentrates on her own efforts. He feels a pain as his back begins to cramp, but he’s almost there he can feel it! Owing it to simple somaticizing he doesn’t give it the time of another second’s thought as he pulls out slowly one last time and then shoves.

Hard.

And they feel it.  Their satiated breaths are understandably audible in the electrifying moment his shaft sinks in deep and stays put.

The aberrant earth blocking a solid purchase yields at last. He deadbolts the latches on the beach umbrella and opens its wide canopy against the glaring sun. Somehow knowing the wait is over, his stomach growls on cue. Laughing, she reaches inside the basket and tosses him a little something to sink his teeth into as reward for a job finally well done. He tosses crumbs to a sparrow and confident the umbrella will not tip over again in the grass, helps spread out a picnic under its shade.

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Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie | Weekly Wordle #140

Shaft, Kudoclasm, Somaticize, Pain, Naked, Sparrow, Tighten, Deadbolt, Electrify, Wait, Tooth , Aberrant

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem. The words can appear in an alternate form, in any order that you like.

MLMM’s Wordle # 139 – The Coroner’s Tale

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“How she lay sprawled across the triptych. A human pupa awaiting the sweet kiss of Thanatos, but getting the cruel tongue lashing of Keres instead. The triptych itself, a most ghastly thing, was pinned to the wall as though it were a bed, and she to it.  Had I only seen the drawings, I would have sworn she lay across a divan in repose. Except for the missing toes, the only part of her the mice could easily reach I suppose.  As we came to collect the remains, I had wished it were only a mere image as opposed to the horror that was before me. There is a reason that was my last case.”  The ancient gnarled hands of the erstwhile coroner lit an equally ancient pipe.

“You know I am not a man prone to pleonasm, so forgive me this if I tend to such now. I must detail this as I recall it, or not as all, for the image of her like that sears my mind still. I remember I had to quickly grab hold of the nearest door jamb to steady myself it was such a shock.” I think it was not until he lowered his hand again that he realized it was raised to his nose as though to somehow ward off the stench of the scene then. Even his nose twitched in memory. “You sure you want to hear this, son?”

I nod and settled back in my chair waiting for the rest of the tale, somehow knowing it was going to take a while.

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week-139
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie | Wordle #139 “January 23rd, 2016”

Bed, Pupa, Image, Pleonasm, Nose, Sear, Mice, Collect, Grab, Ward, Triptych, Pin

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem. The words can appear in an alternate form, in any order that you like.

Wordle #137 – Early Morning Meeting

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I knew picked a bad time to quit cigs when my scapegrace of a boss texted, and emailed, at 1am to come in for a 7am meeting. FFS, none of us called into this farce needed to be here this damned early and he knew it. The latest ad campaign was in its fifth day of stellar reviews. Even better, fortune shined its loving beam upon us when an unfortunate comment sparked an internet and news firestorm. The fusion of the public parapraxis of a well-known, but well- hammered, celebrity and our tagline exploded across the Twitterverse three days ago. I know a couple of our competitors considered it mealy-mouthed for us to not enact actions of our own at a such an easy target, but this campaign was my baby; I stuck to my guns at taking the high ground and it has paid off.  We have been praised for our restraint, especially with such an easy target. The good news for this quarter is  solidly rising, and hints of possible awards in our future beginning an early buzz. We were sitting so golden; this meeting was simply a stroke to his meager ego, flexing his boss muscle to show he could.  So here I am, nicotine patch on my arm and much-needed coffee in hand as I pass the wall of windows on our floor overlooking downtown, dawdling, before I head in to the shenanigans.

The early morning sun was slowly rising along the jagged horizon of skyscrapers. Its shine, reflecting off nearby windows, was near blinding.  I rarely have time, correction – I rarely give myself time, to take notice, so on a rare whim I allow myself to stand there, forehead resting on my arm against the glass and just day-dream for a moment. No censure, just letting my mind flow where it may while watching the burgeoning dawn. Naturally my mind floats to the object who-has-yet-to-know-the-depth of my affections. I sigh, thoughts of her turning my soul gelatinous in a warmth that is no longer surprising to me. I smile as my emotions leak out in the relative dark of the office floor.

Aurora is so wonderful and smart and beautiful. What would she say to married life with an average smuck like me?

A soft gasp to my side turns my soul so queasy I nearly drop my coffee. Oh dear God! Had I said that aloud?! I slowly turn with dread, relaxing as I face Aurora.

“She’d say that you’re far from average and hardly a smuck.” Aurora takes my hand, grinning at what I know had to be a happy, yet stupefied expression on my face.

“She’d say Yes.”

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week-137
Wordle #137 “January 9th, 2016”

Enact, Parapraxis, Scapegrace, Meager, Spark, Day, Mealy, Quarter, Gelatinous, Queasy, Nicotine, Fusion

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem. The words can appear in an alternate form. Use the words in any order that you like.

Wordle #136 : As Fine As Brittle

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13

After a spell of

Too many leavings

The robust soul ,

Where joy once flourished,

Has since fizzled

Into nights fetal-curled

In piteous tears.

A melody born of

A now insular life

Headlights

A cryophilic heart

One as fine,

Yet as brittle as china

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Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Wordle #136 “January 2nd, 2016”
Leavings, Insular, Cryophilic, Melody, Radio, Fetal, Pity, China, Headlights, Promontory, Spell, Fizzle

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem. The words can appear in an alternate form, in any order that you like.

dVerse Quadrilee #23 : Curl
The rules are easy. Write a Quadrille (a poem of exactly 44 words, not including the title), using the word curl in any form.

Weekly Wordle #135: Goodbye

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I tug at the fabric of my blouse with impatience. All this gloss and glam really is not my thing for travelling, but a gal’s gotta do, you know?  I’m more a jackboots, jeans and t-shirt type of gal, but I can’t lie; I do look seriously good in this silky top and slacks. Yeah, I definitely learned how to dress better from all this, I’ll give it that much. I frown at my reflection turning my face at different angles in the light. It was a stroke of luck that I have my gear with me instead of having it shipped as I first wanted to do. Luck my ass! The goddesses-that-be who look over foolish gals like me knew I would need my good makeup to fix my face, so I thank you dolls! I ply on a little more foundation, to hide the discoloration trying to peek through. Sonavabitch!  The mirror in here sucks like a mutha for this, but I work with what I have. It’s an airport terminal after all, not like there is going to be a Hollywood dressing table in here.

Hollywood. L.A.

Who knew a chance meeting in the ladies’ room, a fist-fight, an emergency make-up session and some word of mouth would get me a call to go on a world tour with the crew for one of my favorite singers for an eighteen-month run. Eighteen. Months. World. Tour. I knew he was not going to like it at all, but it was an opportunity of a life time. There was no way in hell I was ever turning it down. Mama didn’t raise no fool, well, not too much of one anyway. He’s cheating on his wife with me and she knew it. I had no illusions about him faithfully waiting for my return. Still, he’s not the type of man you just walk away from. I had to make him do it.

“Baby, we knew from the beginning that I was not going to be here for a long-term thing.”

It really knifed him, my saying goodbye. He wasn’t expecting it and I wasn’t expecting him to come at me like that, but he did.

“You think you can just leave me! Leave me like a, like a, a fucking rum cull! You guttersnipe bitch!”

As soon as the words left his mouth I knew he regretted it, as I would immediately regret mine. I mean, I knew my role in his life, but I was furious! He had never said anything like that to me before, so I dropped a bomb in kind.

“But that’s all you ever were to me. Didn’t you understand that?”

He fell to his knees, staring in disbelief, as if it were all something alien to him. Maybe it was, I don’t know. I guess I should not have been surprised it happened, but I was. Hell, I was stunned. We both were. I expected to hurt, but Lord knows I didn’t expect to hurt so much. Not like this!

I hear the chime sound over the PA system and listen for the message; yes, it’s my flight preparing to board. The bruise on my cheek was now a ghastly faded yellow; my eyes were still a little red-rimmed from all the crying, but the swelling had gone down and the contouring hid everything else. I check one more time to make sure I got it all covered before I grab my satchel to join the passel of travelers like me heading for the west coast.

And I try not to think of the completely crushed look on his face, as I held mine. He knew better than to try to stop me as I quietly stood and walked out.

The backhand was easier to bear than that.

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Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Wordle #135

wordle-135

Sound, Terminal, Rum Cull (A rich fool, easily cheated, particularly by his mistress.) Knife, Gutter, Fabric, Discolor, Gloss, Jackboot, Passel (a group or lot of indeterminate number) Stroke, Impatience

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem. The words can appear in an alternate form. Use the words in any order that you like.