1/3 You Got Something on Your Chin

She tried not to roll her eyes as she took his order.

“Do you have fish tacos? You know, some pink tacos?” he asked.

Trish was used to rude customers in the coffee shop, but this guy and his buddies were among the worst.

“Gimme a cheeseburger, babe.”

“Certainly,” she replied with as sincere a smile as she could muster.

Back in the kitchen, the cook prepped the burger: homemade bun, juicy patty, fresh lettuce, and half a paper napkin.

“Here you go, hun” Trish said and smiled brightly as she watched him take a huge bite.

Revenge served warm.

Assignment: A drabble is an extremely short work of fiction of exactly one hundred words in length, not necessarily including the title. The purpose of the drabble is brevity, testing the author's ability to express interesting and meaningful ideas in an extremely confined space.

1/2 Little Olive June

Little Olive June rode a seahorse to the moon
On the windiest morning in May.
She took some marmalade and a parasol for shade
And soared like a kite into the fray.

Little Olive June found herself marooned
On a tiny comet high above the planet.
The seahorse began to falter when he needed a drink of water
So they rested on a rock made from granite.

Little Olive June took a gold and black teaspoon
And dipped it in the comet's shimmering pool.
She slurped a tiny sip then put her left hand on her hip
When she noticed the seahorse beginning to drool.

Little Olive June, like a barkeep in a saloon
Gave the seahorse his own little bowl.
He gulped and he drank as he filled up his tank
And was ready to continue their stroll.

Little Olive June whistled a cheerful tune
As she watched the sun set from space.
She hugged the seahorse's neck and gave him a peck
As the moon began to give chase.

Assignment: Write about a character (male or female) who ends up living in an unusual place, including the circumstances that led them there.

"Olive June" also happens to be the name of my 18 month old niece.

1/1 Last words of the first story

She reluctantly slipped her hand into his and allowed him to pull her closer. Everything became heavier and heavier - her hands, her arms, her shoulders, each vertebrae in her neck and down her back- like she was moving through mud. The weight became too much and Leigh began to crumple in anguish.

He did nothing to prevent her fall.  He only bent forward, guiding her hand down to her face as she collapsed to the wood floor.

He watched her with bemusement as she cried softly. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered to himself. "Eliot was right."

1/1/13 Assignment: Write the last paragraph of your novel or short story. If the last paragraph is only one sentence (very dramatic, I like), then include the paragraph before it, as well.

(or this is what happens when I've been watching too much Mad Men and previews for World War Z.)

June 4:

So, this was my life in Austin for the first year or so as I was commuting WEEKLY to Austin from Sacramento. After my first 2 weeks here, HBO couldn't entertain me and I began exploring the city. I'd usually go to dinner at a nicer restaurant and sat at the bar to talk with either the bar tender or other folks, who, like me, were alone but content to have some structured company.
Its always easy to meet people at dinner at the bar. If you don't like the conversation on the left, you can pick it up on the right. If you don't want to continue the conversation, eat your dessert somewhere else. The check provides the easy out.

That's all I've got. You don't get the juicy details.


Assignment:
Your character is on a trip for work, and finds him/herself extremely bored, so he/she walks down to the hotel bar. After a few cocktails, they begin a conversation with a dashing stranger. What happens next?

June 3: Suburbia suits me

I take another breath and sink down lower into the bath tub. Wait- what did that lady call it? Oh right. It isn't a bath tub, its a garden tub. Its so big that I can keep my feet in the water as my head goes under. And not only that, but I am all under at one time. Last time I took a bath, each time I wanted to put my head under I had to scootch my ass to the end of the tub, with my legs reaching up along the cold tiled wall in order to be able to lay my head back.

My house, or what was my house, only had a shower. But it wasn't hooked up or anything so I usually showered at the Y. It was when I was on my way to the Y that I saw it. What they did to those men. What I told the jury they did to those men. And what they'll do to me.

I push back up so I'm sitting in the tub and wipe my eyes. Yeah. This I could get used to. I've never lived in a place this nice. In fact, I've never lived anywhere that couldn't be hitched up to something and towed to another town before. When I walk on the floor, it feels solid. I'm not bumping into anyone when I fix a bowl of cereal. The house is made of brick and can't be blown down by any big bad wolf.

Right?

This town is alright except there's no Wal-Mart. I have to go about 15 miles to Fishkill for that and the money I have to pay for the cab ride makes it so I don't have any money for shopping. They've told me I have to get a job. So I guess I'll do that next. I can't really be a housewife when my husband's gone. But if I was going to be a housewife, this is the kind of house I'd want to live in. It's even got a clothes washer AND dryer IN the house! In my own house!

But even with the garden tub and the laundry, there are reminders that even though the house is brick, my life is straw. Panic buttons in three rooms; FBI living in the guest room and kitty corner across the street. And guns. All the guns. I don't care about ever going back to Texas. There wasn't anything there for me anyway. Not anymore. I get to build a new life and if they never find me, I'll get to live it.



Assignment: Congratulations. You just testified in court against the biggest crime family in all of Texas. Now, to keep your ass from being dead, the FBI is putting you and your family in the Witness Protection Program. Write about the first day of your new life as Chris Farmington in Poughkeepsie, NY.

June 2: off topic (gratuitous dog photo)

My dog is a loud swallower. Not when he eats his food and not when lapping up water. Nope. Just randomly when he's sitting there waiting for me to prepare his dinner or after he looks up at me from a cozy little dognap. *GULP*

It's like he's either perpetually worried that I've caught him doing something or he's just a gulper. I don't think that it's equivalent to a human mouth-breather or close-talker because its mildly endearing. Like when he scares himself awake with his own flatulence.

I just haven't figured out the trigger. Does he have an overactive salivary gland? Does he always think he's going on some harebrained adventure? Human gulpers show their true colors when the seat bar locks them into their roller coaster seat, or right before they step off the high dive. But canine gulpers? This shall require more research.

June 1: The Writing Resumes

Sometimes I write because I think its what I'm supposed to do.
Sometimes I write because I can't sleep.
Sometimes I write because I think it will make someone fall in love with me.
Sometimes I write because I want to try to disturb someone.
Sometimes I write because I didn't like how something went down in reality so I rewrite it the way I wish it had gone.
Sometimes I write because I witness something so amazing that I want to preserve it as best I can.

I mostly write creative non-fiction. Everything I write has some tie to an experience I've had, or want to have. I love to read literary fiction and natural history- and I find my writing reflects some of that.

My intention is to give you words everyday for 30 days. Sometimes it will be on topic, some won't. But I hope to make it a little interesting.
I think I need to start working on a short story for the Chronicle's contest in December- so perhaps I'll do some exploring, too.

Looing forward to reading what you all produce!