easily forgotten

They said I was soft.  They said that I wasn’t quite right, I wasn’t playing with a full deck, the wheel was spinning but the hamster was dead.  They said that my mind was a silk prison.  I knew it was an insult, I had heard them refer to their own minds as steel traps, and I always just smiled and waved anyway.

I couldn’t remember things very well.  True, but that wasn’t a new discovering for me when I first went to school, it was a fact of my life.  I needed repetition over and over to finally have something stick.  I needed to make it a routine, or whatever I was trying to learn would just slip through the silk of my mind with ease and disappear, gone forever.  Or, at least, gone until I had repeated it enough again to be able to wrap it up in silk and make it my own.

I didn’t mind though.  Being forgetful had its uses.  Sure it took me a long time to remember that five times five is twenty-five, but that’s an easy trade off for being able to forget the pain of my early childhood.  What happened, you ask?  I don’t remember the details, as I just said.  I only remember the pain and the pretty flashing red and blue lights.

I think I used to live with someone else, perhaps my mom and dad, but grandma doesn’t like to talk about it and, through repetition, I learned to stop asking.  Maybe one day I’ll want to find out more.  Maybe one day I’ll grow tired of struggling to keep up with my studies.  However, it’s more likely that I’ll forget we even had this conversation by tomorrow as all memory of it falls freely from the folds of my silk prison mind.

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Word Count: 305

This is my contribution to this week’s Inspiration Monday writing prompt:

The Rules

There are none. Read the prompts, get inspired, write something. No word count minimum or maximum. You don’t have to include the exact prompt in your piece, and you can interpret the prompt(s) any way you like.

OR

No really; I need rules!

Okay; write 200-500 words on the prompt of your choice. You may either use the prompt as the title of your piece or work it into the body of your piece. You must complete it before 6 pm CST on the Monday following this post.

The Prompts:

SILK PRISON**
WAITING FOR AN ANSWER
MIND CLUTTER
WHAT’S IN THE BAG
STAYING UP EARLY

–

** Thanks to Carrie for inspiring this prompt!

bulking up

Duncan was in the process of reinventing himself.

For years he had struggled to be comfortable in his own skin, to be happy with how he looked, and no matter what he tried he never really achieved that.  Working out didn’t help, his body would get tone but wouldn’t bulk up.  Adding extra calories just fueled the work out sessions and gave me more energy than he knew what to do with.  He even parted with half of his savings to hire a personal trainer for six months.  The trainer did their best, but couldn’t get Duncan looking the way he wanted.

He was aware that his vanity had turned into an obsession, and he no longer cared.  After having hated the way he looked for his entire life he was determined to once and for all find the solution, find what he needed to do to look in the mirror and be pleased with the reflection.  Duncan plotted and schemed, researched and formulated plan after plan, discarding those that weren’t feasible, until he finally came upon a solution that would work.

It was risky, no doubt about that, but he had no choice.  He had to bulk up.  He had to look more like a man and less like a one hundred and twenty pound weakling.  He knew he would be happy once he did.  He’d be more outgoing, more confident, and he’d finally be able to do something worthwhile with his life.

He found some likely sources and monitored their movements.  When the timing was right, he would strike.  Then it was just a simple matter of isolating the muscle groups he wanted, a quick cut and paste, and then Duncan would be brawny too.  He’d finally fill out his shirts.  He’d finally be able to walk down the beach without a shirt on and not be embarrassed.  He’d look in the mirror and smile.

Duncan wouldn’t feel sorry for his victims.  He wouldn’t have time as he’d be far too busy with his new social activities.

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Word Count: 339

I don’t know what it is about the Inspiration Monday prompts that brings out the silliness in me, but it seems like they always do.  This slightly dark, hopefully humorous, little story is in response to this week’s prompts:

The Rules

There are none. Read the prompts, get inspired, write something. No word count minimum or maximum. You don’t have to include the exact prompt in your piece, and you can interpret the prompt(s) any way you like.

OR

No really; I need rules!

Okay; write 200-500 words on the prompt of your choice. You may either use the prompt as the title of your piece or work it into the body of your piece. You must complete it before 6 pm CST on the Monday following this post.

The Prompts:

THE MAN WITH NO NAME
ALWAYS UNDERESTIMATED
TRAINED FROM BIRTH
CUT AND PASTE
MASTERPIECES

fair trade

Billy could feel age creeping up on him.  Aside from the white, thinning, hair, the frail bones, the slight limp in his left leg, and his overall propensity to catch every flu and cold going around, he sensed that age itself was getting ready to tap him on the shoulder and suggest it might be time to sit out a few rounds.  A few rounds he would have been okay with, but Billy was sure that once he sat down age would never let him stand up and get back in the game.

Luckily, he planned ahead for the occassion, and had plenty of money set aside.  He took a cab into town, tipped the driver because he understand what it was like to scrape by, barely making it, in a customer service job, and then limped into the office.  His joints popped achingly as he pulled open the heavy door, but he shrugged off the pain.  He knew he’d be right as rain very soon.  It was going to take most of his savings, but he had well aware of that ahead of time.  Money was something he would happily part with at the Time Exchange.

When he walked out a few hours later, pain free for the first time in years, his hair was a luminous brown again, his muscle tone had been restored, and he felt every bit as strong as he had after the last time he’d purchased their wonderful full service offer 30 years before.  He knew he had a lot of hard years in front of him, working up to pay for the time exchange again, but he was happy to put in the effort.  Truth be told, he would have paid double for half the time.

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Word Count: 292

Another week, and another silly response to the InMonster Writing Prompt:

The Rules

There are none. Read the prompts, get inspired, write something. No word count minimum or maximum. You don’t have to include the exact prompt in your piece, and you can interpret the prompt(s) any way you like.

OR

No really; I need rules!

Okay; write 200-500 words on the prompt of your choice. You may either use the prompt as the title of your piece or work it into the body of your piece. You must complete it before 6 pm CST on the Monday following this post.

The Prompts:

LOOK AT ME NOW
WE NEED TO TALK
TIME EXCHANGE
SLEEP JUICE
MUSICAL EQUATION

time to fly

The tinkering noises coming from Navem’s workshop were only rivaled in intensity and frequency by the accompany curses and groans.  He’d spent three days locked in a manic state of development.  His house guests had spent those three days nervously pacing outside his door, burying their heads under their pillows when they tried to sleep, and growing largely irritated by the never-ending stream of noise.

During a rare pause, Grace and Arlen cautiously approached the door.  Grace leaned in to press her ear against the wood to see if she could hear what was going on, and in a whisper Arlen asked, “What’s he building in there?”

Without pulling her ear from the door, Grace shrugged her shoulders.  “He’s never been at it this long before.  Usually Navem gives up after a day.  He’s full of good ideas he just doesn’t know how to make them come to life.”

Arlen grinned as he remembered Navem’s last attempted creation: a car that could run on vegetable scraps.  The would-be inventor had spent a whole day taking apart the engine of his truck only to realize he knew nothing about combustion engines.  He’d ended up having to get the truck towed to a mechanic to put everything back together.

Suddenly, the door flew open.  Grace stumbled and nearly fell into the room as Navem rushed passed his two roommates.

“I’ve done it!”

“What have you done?” Arlen asked the back of the retreating figure sprinting down the hall.

“Was he smiling?”  Steadying herself against the door-frame and straightening up, Grace turned to watch Navem disappear as he turned out of the hall into the garage.

“If you consider grinning from ear-to-ear as smiling…”

“What does that mean?”

“I have no idea.”

Grace and Arlen locked eyes and grimaced.  The implications of Navem having finally succeeded in building something useful hung in the air like an anvil hanging from a thread.  They were both waiting for that thread to snap and the anvil to come crashing down on their heads.  They flinched when Navem, stilling grinning like a mad man, came flying back into their view from the garage.

“You’ve got to see this!”

The two roommates exchanged another very concerned look and grudgingly made their way down to where Navem was standing.

“What did you ma-make?”  Grace couldn’t keep a slight tremor out of her voice.

Navem exuded pride, he beamed with happiness, he was exultant as he answered, “I made a kite.”

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Word Count: 411

Another week, and I’ve come up with another silly submission for the Inspiration Monday writing prompt:

The Rules

There are none. Read the prompts, get inspired, write something. No word count minimum or maximum. You don’t have to include the exact prompt in your piece, and you can interpret the prompt(s) any way you like.

OR

No really; I need rules!

Okay; write 200-500 words on the prompt of your choice. You may either use the prompt as the title of your piece or work it into the body of your piece. You must complete it before 6 pm CST on the Monday following this post.

The Prompts:

WHAT’S HE BUILDING IN THERE?
MECHANICAL OASIS
ORANGE BLOOD
PHANTOM PAIN
PAPER LIES

honey, I can explain

“Pretend you didn’t see.”

The words, barely perceptible in the late evening air, fell flat.  They held emotion and earnestness, but she didn’t care.  She couldn’t care.  He had gone too far, and she had seen.  There was no way she could pretend she hadn’t.  Her scowl deepened.

“Please.”

Pleading.  Begging.  Urging her to forgive him.

She shook her head, turned and walked away.  Her shadow grew large on the hallway wall as she passed by the single light that had been left burning in the living room all evening.  There had been many nights when that light had shown over her right shoulder as she read a book and waited for him to return to her.

But, she had not waited that evening.  She had gone in search of him, and she had found him.

He’d been sitting in a booth alone at THEIR ice cream parlor, enjoying spoonful after spoonful of Cookies N Cream, Chocolate Chip, and Vanilla Bean deliciousness, savoring the creaminess, heaping on extra gobs of chocolate fudge and caramel sauce.  Seeing him, she learned the truth of his late evening sojourns: he’d been going out night after night to sneak in extra scoops without her.

It was unforgivable.

As she passed the switch on the wall, she flicked the light off, leaving him in the dark behind her.  She went to bed alone and he spent the next several nights on the couch.  Each of those nights she ventured out to the parlor on her own to catch up on all those missed bowls, cups, and cones.

It was the only way they could move forward.

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Word Count: 271

This bit of silliness is my response to this week’s InMon Writing Prompt:

The Rules

There are none. Read the prompts, get inspired, write something. No word count minimum or maximum. You don’t have to include the exact prompt in your piece, and you can interpret the prompt(s) any way you like.

OR

No really; I need rules!

Okay; write 200-500 words on the prompt of your choice. You may either use the prompt as the title of your piece or work it into the body of your piece. You must complete it before 6 pm CST on the Monday following this post.

The Prompts:

THINGS I SAID TO THE DOORMAN
PRETEND YOU DIDN’T SEE
WATCH WITH A TICK
SOME DAY
COUNTING SECONDS