Wordle #136 : As Fine As Brittle

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

<>==========<>==========<>

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

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.

<>==========<>==========<>

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.

Fourth Rule

In a posh hotel that all but has avarice etched into its über sophisticated decor, a very shapely body in an expensive little black dress, with very shapely gams in equally expensive high-heels, sits legs crossed at the bar in all her expensive glory. Her ebon mane is relentlessly coiffed in an updo that looked like it took some time to accomplish. Naturally long lashes hood piercing eyes that seem to see everything and zilch simultaneously. Other than her sanguine lips she is barefaced. Beauty such as hers, really doesn’t need much else. One set of red taloned fingers lay casually on her sparkling clutch, the other holds a drink, its contents mini tidal waves of motion as she swirls it idly.  The drink could have been premium top-shelf or basement level swill for all the attention she appears to give it.

The bartender tries to strike up a conversation. I can tell his sandpaper voice is as grating to her as her voice is dripping with honey to him as she politely, but firmly blows him off.

Everything about her says bored sophistication.  The been there / done look that of one who truly has  been there and done that repeatedly. Even as she sits in a casual lean, there is a correctness in her posture. For all her apparent boredom, there was a remoteness about her. Something irrevocable, festering just beneath the surface. I know that look.

Crap. Not tonight.

Taking a seat two empty stools away from her, I curse under my breath while ordering a club soda for myself. Without a word or looking, I slide the small bottle with Amphetamine towards her. Just as silently and blindly she stops it before it crashes into her hand. She downs a couple of pills, downs her drink and slides the pill bottle back to me, her motions full of the apology she can’t speak. I pocket the bottle and shrug taking my drink back to a side table to observe.

In the mirror behind the bar we see when her date-to-be enters the lobby.  It’s not even five minutes before he hits on her. I’m sure the mark thinks it’s his charm, but I can see when the pills start to take effect. The remoteness morphs into a subtle wildness that adds to her appeal as they chat aimlessly for a few minutes more. Eventually he offers a gentlemanly elbow and she accepts. She nods at me once nonchalantly in passing. It is the only direct look my partner and I have exchanged since first entering the bar, signaling the sting is a go as she head to his room, hopefully to arrest him.  The pills rattle in my pocket as I stand to follow them a few moments later. Rules are rules – I know it’s wrong, she knows it’s wrong, but it’s Fourth Rule time, we need to get through this. We’ll deal with her possible addiction tomorrow.

<>==========<>==========<>

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Wordle #134 “December 19th, 2016”

Relent, Wildness, The Fourth Rule (There is an exception to every rule.), Barefaced, Amphetamine, Swill, Tidal, Sanguine, Irrevocable, Avarice (greed), Zilch, Sandpaper

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.

Weekly Wordle #133 – Irrevocable

 

With an annoyed gnash of teeth, he swept the flower from the table. He heard her gasp at the door, saw her crushed face as the bloom sailed through the air.

Too late he remembered…

Knowing nothing could be done, they watch the snowy edelweiss float for the briefest moment, like birdseed tossed into the air, then seemingly hurtled towards the uncovered lantern for a curl of fire to capture it.

A sudden hollowness fills him – and he knows – his heart is gone.

He had scoffed at the old gypsy woman a year ago he rode away with his prize, her granddaughter.

Not anymore.

With an askance glance the charred remains of what could have been, the descendent simply turned walked away. It was his third warning. They both know, this time, it is irrevocable.

Smoky whorls landed oh so softly in his palms, soft like a kiss. Like the kiss of love he will never get to know.

…when her heart is gone, you will lose yours –  forever.

He stood there transfixed for a long time. A ludic Narcissus, staring into his tear-stained hands long after the ashes were gone.

That was his curse.
<>==========<>==========<>

week-133
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Wordle #133 “December 12th, 2016”

Gnash, Lantern, Edelweiss, Birdseed, Capture, Heart, Askance, Descendent, Irrevocable, Ludic, Ashes, Curse

You can 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.

I challenged myself to a- use all twelve words b- use them in order given and c- write a story in under 200 words

 

Weekly Wordle #132

I know all of the windows are down and locked; that the shutters are closed against the harsh wind blowing. The torrential rain that drenched so thoroughly late in the afternoon has turned to chilling huffs of air drying by force, regardless of those who of us would prefer a traditional drying via the sun’s warmth.  I know cannot actually feel its chill while safely ensconced inside, but, its howl seeps into my emotional marrow and I pull the quilt tighter around me in physical protection from its presumed frost. I imagine the wind as malevolent bellwether to the coming winter. Its simple breeze of earlier gathering a nuanced force – going from breezes, to winds, to gales that make weapons of weak branches and blow through fallen leaves causing haphazard grooves to chart our paths to the fence and beyond once the snow starts to fall.

It is late, past the witching hour, everyone has long since retired to the warmth of their beds. I am restless, so I choose to read. The soft bluish flame of the kerosene lamp on the table lights the nuanced world of words before me warmly. I pick up the lime half on the table near me to suck. Landlocked as I am, I flatter myself as the protagonist of the novel I read; lying about on a sunny beach with cool lime libation in hand.

Only to inhale and taste petrol instead.

I have been up so long I’ve become near nose blind to the gasoline scent of the lamp, never a good sign. Its scent is what reminds me of its presence and that it, like me, is not inexhaustible. I smile at my own little Faustian folly as I mark my place, put the book away and turn down the lamp.

I glance around the darkened room as I rise for my own slumber. The worries of the previous day now clutter at the bottom of a handbag to be dealt with on the morrow.

<>==========<>==========<>

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie and Wordle

wordle-week-132

Gasoline, Lime, Bellwether, Late, Nuance, Marrow, Flattery, Clutter, Groove, Inexhaustible, Handbag, Faustian

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.