In the comments, use the 10 random words below to create a cohesive, creative short story tying all the words together. And remember: after you finish, highlight your words and click the bold button to make them stand out and help you determine if you forgot any words (if you’ve missed some challenges, go back and try those too).
- Bookshelf
- Music
- Glory
- Coed
- Tailwind
- Dietician
- Propeller
- Bumblebee
- Seasons
- Rattleshake (or “rattlesnake” since I spelled it wrong here. face/palm)
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{ 120 comments… read them below or add one }
As the sweet music of silence wafts through my awareness like a warm summer breeze, I bask in the glory of realizing that this waking up before dawn thing isn’t so bad after all. Not knowing exactly what to do with my time today, I turn to the bookshelf looming over my shoulder like an eager first-year Coed wanting to be called upon by her oh-so-cute English Lit professor. It beckons my attention, with a diversity of yet unread tomes on subjects ranging from “The Flight of the Bumblebee” to “The History of the Propeller“.
What catches my attention however, is a rather obscure book entitled “The Health Benefits of Eating During a Tailwind” by Joyce Wunderlin, a registered Dietician who spent more than twenty-some years working for American Airlines.
Apparently Ms. Wunderlin was tasked with the responsibility of motivating flight crews to eat more frequently, the theory being that their lack of nutritional sustenance on long-range flights was potentially the cause of several-too-many complaints from passengers about poor attitudes among the crew.
Ultimately she’d been fired from her job because upper management refused to cooperate when she demanded they change her title to Dietitian in Charge. It seems they’d spent thousands of dollars on printing everything from business cards to letterhead with the more commonly used “Dietician”, and weren’t going to throw all of that material out over such a dispute.
Well clearly, after reading the book jacket I was less than motivated to read further. And so I continued to finger-dance wander across the selection of reading materials before me. Fortunately I found the epic biography of Li’l Ed and the Blues Imperials, that obscure one-hit wonder band behind the chart-topping “Icicles in my Meatloaf” from the album RattleShake.
Li’l Ed’s story itself was fascinating to me, because I enjoy how he took a word like Rattlesnake, one that evokes fear and peril, and by the simple replacement of one letter, and the capitalization of another, was able to evoke a vision of upbeat musical entertainment.
But alas, I was destined not to read about Li’l Ed, however, because at that moment, I’d become distracted from a movement on my computer monitor, signaling a new tweet from someone in my network of online friends.
Now, I’m not exactly addicted to Twitter, at least not in my own mind. Others might argue otherwise. Whether it’s the fact that I tweet, on average, over 110 times a day, or not, I can not say. But anyhow, I do, clearly, have ADD or perhaps ADHD, neither of which I’ve been officially diagnosed with, mind you. Rather, you see, through the seasons, I’ve observed how my mind wanders so often. From one subject to the next, repeatedly all day long.
And in any case, what caught my attention in that particular moment was a tweet from Angie @angscopywriting where she was re-tweeting a previous tweet from @shanearthur mentioning Creative Copy Challenge #7. And that’s how I ended up here, discovering a completely new and truly fascinating way to pass away the hours of this not-yet-dawn time of day.
Alan, that was so…freakin’…good! Super job.
It’s so good to see that these challenges mean something to the SEO crowd.
With the pain I’m currently in right now, these things are like my perscription pain killers, taking my mind off of myself. Thanks
Thank you Shane, both for providing the challenge and the compliment on my particularly unique writing. This was the first time I’ve ever approached writing this way, and I need to say it was truly entertaining. Needless to say, I’ve bookmarked your blog and know where to turn when the mood strikes for stretching the mind!
Ha, awesome! And I agree with Shane, it’s cool that these are drifting into the SEO crowd. I know that for me, it’s a really nice departure. Not just to write them, but to read them as well.
I loved, “Icicles in my Meatloaf”!
Thanks Sean.
Actually, that’s the one element of this whole thing that’s not fictional. There really is an album out there called RattleShake, and that’s one of the songs on it.
I did that because when I saw the list, I had to find out if Rattleshake was a real word or just something that comes out of literary license, because I truly wanted to nail this, my first venture into the challenges. When I saw the list of songs on the album, that was the only one that popped out at me. So I got lucky.
Ha, I knew rattleshake was a typo, but I actually preferred it to rattlesnake, so I kept it.
Your first venture was awesome. Keep it up!
She’s a coed goddess.
Her tailwind is glory to behold. It shakes from side to side as effortlessly as the seasons change. It’s the rattlesnake rattle that deafens my ears with each cycle. It’s the bumblebee buzz swelling my reptilian brain and more. It’s the propeller propelling my one hand to grab that picture I stole from her bookshelf, and obsess over her with the other.
I think she’s studying to be a dietician. Or is it music? If I had a free hand, I’d remove the tape from her mouth and ask her.
~~~~~
(The name of the exact book where I got this idea escapes me right now, but I lifted it from an excerpt mentioned in the book Stein On Writing where an obsessed man stalks a woman in his neighborhood. Get Stein on Writing today. It saved my butt with this challenge.)
“If I had a free hand, I’d remove the tape from her mouth and ask her.”
Until I got to that line, I was totally “captivated” by where this was going. After that, I couldn’t “escape” uncontrollable laughter.
Shane, you’re brilliant!
Thanks Alan. I have to give credit to Stein for giving me the idea nugget to run with. This only proves that the more we read, the better our own writing can become.
I finally got Stein on Writing! I’ve no idea when I’ll start it, but I do have it now.
I’ll tell you that page number (and the other page I wanted you to see immediately after purchase) nonight when I get home.
In pain and still writing comedy! I loved last line too.
I’m sorry about your doctor. It’s the pits to have to find one you like and trust even when things are going well. My favorite doctor retired 2 years ago and I have yet to find a suitable replacement.
Thanks. I found a new one. Earliest appt. I can get though is Friday. I’ll tough it out.
A tailwind pushed the bumblebee against the southpaw’s neck. He dropped to the ground and immediately went into the rattleshake of anaphylactic shock. The moaning and gurgling was over within minutes, replaced by the faint sound of organ music meant to calm the small crowd and then by the whip of the propeller from the medivac chopper that landed between third and home.
Three seasons of climbing through the minors came to an end. He’d never have a chance at the glory of that clutch October performance–the one that would make him famous.
The dietician put a glossy 8×10 on her bookshelf. The boy in the picture was strong and smiling, wearing the ugly orange and green uniform of his first professional team. He was a perfect twelve-to-six curve, a ninety-eight mile per hour two-seamer and the father of her child.
She remembered meeting him as a coed, when he was invincible and on his way to the show. She remembered what it was like before she knew that a gust of wind in Lousiana could turn a bee into a bullet–before she understood what bad luck really felt like.
Carson, that was awesome. I’m amazed at how people come up with these things.
What you did in 4 paragraphs is the equivelant of a two hour drama movie. Loved it. Thanks.
Thanks for outlet. This is a nice way to kick the day into gear.
Fantastic storytelling, Carson. Great job!
Wow. Emotionally charged from the onset.
It all started back when I was a carefree coed many years ago. Music and dance was my world. I would crank up the radio in my bedroom, close my eyes and let the joyous noises take me away. Sometimes I felt like a bumblebee in the sky, spinning and twirling as though caught in the tailwind of a celestial propeller. Other times I would grab an old set of maracas from a cluttered dresser drawer and dance with sensual and wild abandon, like a rattlesnake both fascinating and frightening. Ahh, those were the glory days. Many seasons have passed and many meals have caught up with me. My dietician tells me that for my health I must get off my ass and crank up the music one more time! So here I go. My bookshelf holds many boxes of CDs and exercise videos…why was it fun then and work now? Maybe because there is a lot more to twirl these days!!
Oh my God! Too funny.
“Maybe because there is a lot more to twirl these days!!”
That’s the money line, Margaret! Thanks.
Though I don’t really need to read about my mom and her sensual dances with wild abandon before breakfast, that was still awesome. Great job, Mom.
*falls down laughing at Sean’s comment*
Thank goodness my kid is too young to read what I write unless it involves her…
Seriously, right? I’m just glad I wasn’t eating.
…love ya, Ma.
I remember when my music was arranged in neat rows on the bookshelf. Now, the tailwind of progress has swept that realia from my life like a helpless bumblebee caught in the rattleshake of a raging propeller. It’s as though there is a dietician of time, ensuring that the tangible fades alongside the seasons; the glory of yesterday reduced to so many bits and bytes. Like the coed campus that is now just an online forum.
Sean, I love how you use words in unexpected ways.
“the rattlesnake of a raging propeller”
“dietician of time”
That’s why you are the Writer Dad…dude!
Thanks! I kinda sorta like trying to see how much brevity I can pack into these things, though I have a feeling one day I’ll end up writing an entire short story. That sort of forced compacting means I have to find my way around the words. Coed was, by far, the most difficult puppy in this parade. Other than that, I thought it flowed at a nice clip.
I think that last coed line is a perfect reflection of the semi-related tangents our minds often take when we are trying to think of metaphors and similarities to tie a particular topic together. I thought it was a great tangent, and a damn funny one, too.
Coed coughs.
Calculated adoration, musky scent; prof’s attention elsewhere.
Sits on the bookshelf of his mind;
pathetically obsessed with a dietician shaped
like a bumblebee.
Irony’s soundtrack—
music to her youthful memoirs of conquest.
One failure! This one! How?
Lab ends in ten minutes. Months
of plans to trap him
rattlesnake in Doc Martens that she is
never caught a tailwind.
Enraged
nearly
at not being a propeller
for the soft, round man’s
stunted fantasies.
Seasons change;
next year
he’ll ignore another crop
of unsteady conquerors.
There’s glory in his
calculated resistance
and a stash of brownies to comfort him
in his top desk drawer.
WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This reminds me of poetry boards I’ve visited.
Awesome technique. You should read this at a open mic poetry slam.
I so can’t write poetry like that. For me, everything has to rhyme. I wish I could, though. Really excellent, Kelly. Thanks!
Aw shucks.
(Have I said that before?)
I used to write a lot of poetry (better poetry than this, lol). Never have time anymore, but I decided your next CCC I was going to amuse myself by trying a story-poem. Glad you liked it, Shane.
Hope you’re feeling a bit better today, or that there’s a massive team of docs over there in MD trying to figure out why not.
Well…my doctor died, so I’m searching for a new general today. Call it my Creative Health Care Challenge of the day.
Oh, how awful! C’mon over to Delaware and let our crack experts take a look at ya. We’ll hook you up in no time.
Next time I go to O.C. I’ll try.
At the change of seasons, the coed dietician — a glory seeker often seen sporting rattlesnake boots and a bumblebee-colored hat equipped with a tailwind propeller — will set some time aside to re-organize the Music section of her bookshelf.
ok. Jaced. You’ve just earned the honorable “short and sweet” title previously held by Anne Wayman. Awesome.
Thx.
Thx. instead of thanks???
Now you’re showing off!
k
You win! You win! Stop!
yeah, he beat me hands down, maybe twice! When is 8?
It’s coming soon Anne. Get your eye of the tiger thing going so you’re ready when the bell rings.
And I was proud of my low word count. No doubt, Jaced. You are the crown prince of the low word count.
For now… : )
In this propeller-driven passage of time, those of us who knew true music, keep our rock-n-roll albums on the bookshelf or in a box. We rode the tailwind of the 70s heart and soul with the Eagles, Bread, Seger, the Doobies and so many more.
Springsteen rode his Glory Days into the 80s while Lil’ Ed and the Blues Imperials pushed back the tables for Rattleshake groovin’ and coed mixers.
Now so many seasons have passed. Where are all the old time rock-n-rollers? They’re grandparents and parents who see a dietician because they just can’t eat Mexican food like they used to. They go to their kids and grandkids dance recital of the Flight of the Bumblebee and for the first time appreciate the loss of hearing that came with 70s rock. They wear a smile when one of their grandkids “discovers” the Rolling Stones. And they still hum, “Give me that old-time rock-n-roll.”
That was great Cathy. I guess every generation experiences this. I grew up with two older hippie sisters in the 70s so I remember and appreciate classic rock. I listen to some of the stuff out today and wonder how such little talent gets approved.
I loved it, Cathy! I cut my teeth on classic rock. I’ve got every Springsteen album, up until his last couple, along with everyone else you mentioned. Well, except the Doobies. I never was much of a fan. I’m already gearing my kids to Paint it Black, though!
By the way, Nirvana’s Nevermind is now 18 years old! Just saying.
Just poppin’ in real quick. I’ll get to the new comments later tonight. As a proofreader, you would think I would have noticed that I spelled rattlesnake wrong in this challenge. Therefore both rattleshake and rattlesnake are correct. Face/palm!
One of the few coed events at the Glory Girls School was the model plane competition. The former dietician turned director was trying to encourage an interest in science. Her bookshelf, at one time full of bumblebee stories and music histories, was now cluttered with discourses on tailwinds and propeller maintenance. She had found a new passion for all seasons. Her course was titled “Rattleshake and Roll. The kids couldn’t resist.
Having gone to an all boy school, I would have loved to see that school. Good write Loran. Thanks.
Loran – off topic, but I loved your “Vanity Fair” captions. Too funny.
Thanks, Sean. The Microfiction Monday is another fun writing game.
I’ll have to let Anne know she’s been challenged for the “short and sweet” title. Let’s get ready to rumble.
yikes, I’m late, I’m late – none-the-less:
The coed reached in the bookshelf for the tome on bumblebees and was delighted when her hand landed on the ancient rattleshake that also had a propeller which when used with the proper incantation developed a tailwind so even a dietician could escape a rattlesnake. At the top of the seasons the old instrument was also used to generate music for the glory of all.
Not sure if I get extra credit or disqualified for using both rattleshake and rattlesnake… couldn’t resist… rattleshake is lovely.
It’s never too late right!
And, yes you CAN use both, but that affects your “short and sweet” title contentions.
maybe… my count is 65 words… doubt I’m willing to figure out who else might be short (tall posts don’t count in this piece of course). At least I’m a contender
HAHAHAH!! You used rattlesnake AND rattleshake. That’s awesome, Anne. And yeah, I preferred rattleshake as well.
I may try to make a rattleshake in clay tomorrow… if I manage I’ll post you a pix once it’s fired and glazed and fired again… pottery ain’t’ quick.
Here is my big moment. My time to shine. My time for glory.
My music blares through the speakers of the arena as the crowd jumps to their feet. I step through the curtain and the noise is deafening. I want to thank each and every one of them for the support they’ve given me through my entire run. I’m getting older and I’m not as quick as I used to be. Each year goes by and I get further and further behind in this sport. New moves. New characters. Just like the seasons, everything has changed.
Before I was married, I would let this monopolize my time. Every chance I got, I would find ways and reasons to come return. The locker room was like a co-ed dorm with all of us hanging out. Some of us would leave of our own accord. Some of us were kicked out.
I managed to come back for this last big run. I trained and I practiced. I even hired a dietician to help me with my weight. Since I got married, I put on a few pounds. Sure I wasn’t as fast as I was ten years ago, but I could still work the crowd.
I was at the end of the ramp now. The ring only a few feet from me. I let the cheers and support be my tailwind of encouragement in what many have called an epic battle.
On Pay Per View none the less.
My opponent is “MaddSkillz” Mike Joseph, my protégé. I pretty much taught him this sport. He’s young. He’s quick. He also struts around the ring with a cocky confidence. Is it because he thinks he can beat his old mentor? To make him tap out?
I take a few moments to watch his antics. I can’t help it but smile. I climb the steps, go through the ropes and keep my muscles loose in my corner. The referee calls us to the center. Explains the rules and signals for the bell.
I don’t know what hit me. MaddSkills attacks like a rattlesnake. He attacks me from all different directions. He throws me into the ropes. The turnbuckles. I spend more time on the ground than I do on my feet. His hits burn like the sting of a bumblebee. I really don’t know how much more I can take.
Honestly, I’m pretty much done. I can’t even muster enough energy to stay on my feet. MaddSkillz is loving this. He’s just toying with me now. He kicks me in the gut which sets up his finisher.
The Propeller.
He lifts me on his shoulders, spins around and slams me face first on the mat. He rolls me over and the ref counts.
1…
2…
3!!!!
He won again.
I suck. I suck. I suck. I suck.
“I’m done playing this game with you!!!”
I throw the controller down it slams against his bookshelf and I storm out of my son’s room the worst of the sore losers. No sportsmanship whatsoever. Great example of being a father. He didn’t even give me a chance.
I need to practice when he’s at school. That’s how I’ll beat him.
Oops I forgot to bold them. They’re all there though.
Sorry.
I got ‘um already.
Okay Eric, you got me yet again. I’m lovin’ your style of surprise and twist endings. Very good indeed.
Thanks Shane. I’m starting to worry about if that’s my only trick.
Let us worry about that.
As they say, you know the difference between a one trick pony and a no trick pony? The one trick pony is at the circus, the no trick pony is on his way to the factory. (sorry, my wife has horses. That’s a bad horse joke)
Good. I feel a bit better now.
I do have a question/suggestion about the layout of this.
Even with the threaded replies, it has gotten hard for me to find the story submissions. While comments are expected and suggested. What would the logistics be on something like a submission page and one of yous guys post the stories? We would then comment on them, blah blah blah.
Am I making sense?
Yeah, you’re making sense. I’ll talk to Sean and Dave about this.
What I do is I scroll quickly and look for the bolds (one more reason bolding is a good idea and I’m presently going back over all the challenges and bolding the words they were not). Then I know it’s a submission, but I know what you mean.
We could actually make summary posts where we farm all the submissions onto the post itself. That might be something to think about, but I’ll have to go back each time someone adds to an old challenge and update the summaries, so that has a potential to get beyond me. Good point though. We’ll chat about it more.
Eric, loved your story!
Though I like the idea of separate story submissions making it easier for people to read them, we wouldn’t want to do anything that would become a time suck on the back end. The way it’s set up now makes it easy for everyone to write their stories while allowing others to comment, albeit with a bit of scrolling.
Definitely an idea to lay on the table though.
I was alone, I was jammin, I was cleaning and then I wasn’t.
Finals ended two weeks ago an I thought it was about the right
time to clean up a season’s worth of dirty socks, pizza boxes,
every form of disposable coffee drinking apparatus you can imagine, aka
standard coed paraphernalia.
It was kind of relaxing, until I decided to flip over the couch. Bad
idea, very… bad… idea.
See just then, my little fit of cleanslyness shtick gave way to
gloriously unflattering run from one really peed-off
Rattlesnake.
I jumped over the bookshelf, I frggin smashed my ONLY GOOD
music player and careened off into a the front yard like I had
propellers for asscheeks and a category five tailwind to
boot.
After running twenty yards, from a thirty foot rattlesnake. Now I am
on the front lawn, panting and mooning (I should really get back in
touch with a dietician) when I go to sit down. Another “bad
idea(TM).”
As my sweet soft corner of my bum so ever gently right on top to a
bumblebee who in my estimation is the only living thing on the
entire planet having a worse day than me.
YELP! I jump up, do a little jig and start to weep.
So yeah, I need a new music player, mine is broken, and I ain’t
cleaning anything until I get one.
Very entertaining write Victory. This reminds me of my own college life. My parents came up to visit and were disappointed they could not see our floor through the pizza boxes, laundry, and trash. First SEO, now the coding world is on to our challenges. Awesome.
Can i write the next challenge in PHP? I think i would do better.
if (you want to)
echo “go ahead and try it”;
else (if you decide not to)
echo “that’s ok too.”;
DAMN! Still two minutes!
The bookshelf was full. Books on music, on glory, on how to succeed in a coed university and not end up becoming a parent. The dietician from the desert had sold me that book – I’d liked her company but didn’t like the rattlesnake she kept in a tank.
Then again, she was better to hang out with than the bumblebee farmer or the plane aficionado who’d wanted me to buy the book on how to maintain a propeller. He’d talked of tailwind over drinks on Sundays.
Of course, I’d spent seasons with that person – I always did find planes horrifyingly interesting.
James, you have the “Creative Copy Quickster” title!
Keep in mind though, that you didn’t bold, so like the Olympics, we had to deduct fractions of seconds from your time.
Dang, dude. That’s hardcore.
What can I say. I’m an American judge. James is Canadian!
Dammit. No Gold, eh? Well, at least I made it to the finals, and in the next challenge, I’ll bold AND make it more concise. AND shave off two seconds.
I bet you will too.
Oh, and don’t forget that really obscure rule we have of taking off thousandths of seconds for not tweeting about your submission.
Alright, I’ll give you that last rule. Seems entirely fair to me.
Wait. Don’t the Canadians get special treatment? Isn’t there a flag? I want to have a flag. And lead the parade. And drink beer and be crazy and make people in the crowds go, “Oh, there’s those damned canucks again… sheesh. What kind of hat are they wearing?”
You could change your avatar to that weird red leaf looking thing.
Thank you for the out loud laughs today James. Love ya.
I’m getting testosterone overload here, isn’t this supposed to be fun??
Testosterone? I’m 37. I vaguely remember that term. Is that something like the 8 track?
PS. Loran, here’s an interesting article on the pros and cons of Testosterone!
http://www.copyblogger.com/james-chartrand-underpants/
I save mine for Saturdays.
That article was very interesting, sad but true even in this day and age. Instead of commenting on testosterone, I’ll just note that the dialogue between you and James seemed charged with a competitive edge. Better?
Don’t worry, Loran. I wear my testosterone well.
A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do!
Here is my very short attempt at this:
The coed and the dietitian were discussing music of the seasons when from behind the propeller on the bookshelf a bumblebee zoomed by due to the tailwind.
The dietitian said she would shoo it out through the window, but a rattlesnake quickly ate the bumblebee, stealing all of the dietitian’s glory.
The moral of the story is that you have to be quick to be glorious.
Hey Steve. Welcome to the tribe. I’m almost too manly to tell you I just giggled but I did. Short, cute and sweet. Thanks.
OK, here’s my first ever attempt at something so random.
“My has rattleshake!” the toddler said, as she shook her bumblebee rattle. “My make music!” She ran excitedly over to her nanny, who was also the family’s dietician. The nanny never could decide from the time she was a coed which career path she preferred: taking care of children or teaching about proper nutrition. She was lucky to find a job that combined both.
“Glory,” the nanny said, “where did you find that? I haven’t seen it in months.”
“There,” said Glory, as she pointed proudly to the bookshelf. She had found it wedged between Tailwind: A True Story and The Four Seasons, right under the old wooden propeller from a broken toy plane.
“I’m so glad!” said the nanny, hugging her precious little charge. “Would you like a snack while you make music?”
Hey Kool Aid! That was really sweet. Having two kids, I could relate to those surroundings you painted. Welcome to the challenges.
Thanks! It was a fun exercise in creativity. I think I might try again next time.
We’ll see you then. Thanks.
Kool Aid my dear! Awesome to see you here. You just know I found your little toddler story adorable. Don’t pretend like you didn’t! : )
And you better be back! This seems right up your alley. Let the creativity fly!
Very nice!
“What a lousy day,” Jenna muttered as she unlocked the door of her house. “First, I overslept after having nightmares about rattlesnakes all night. Then, a bumblebee stung me as I dashed to my car. Finally, my sister called me to say that she has been kicked out of her coed dorm for partying too loudly and too often. Now she’s coming to stay at my place until she finishes her dietician training. Talk about bad news! She and I don’t live together happily. We tried that a few years back and it was disastrous.”
Jenna turned her attention to the goldfish in the bowl on her bookshelf . “What is it they say, Sam? That life has seasons ? Well I’m dreading this season for sure!”
Her gaze slid past the goldfish bowl and landed on her stack of music CDs. “You know, Sam, maybe some music would cheer me up. How about this one: ‘ Tailwind of Glory ‘ by Rudy and the Popping Propeller Band. That bee-bop sound ought to get my mood back where it belongs!”
She slid the CD into her player and began to dance to the music that filled the room.
Hey Karetha. “life has seasons” l like that subtle play on words. I’m stealin’ that one too.
Welcome to our little world. I’m glad you are here, and good write.
Thanks…this was my first challenge but won’t be the last!
“It was a cold and dreary night…”, read Sabastian Thorton. “Is there nothing on this bookshelf that doesn’t begin with that sentence?”
The middle aged Dietician was looking through the meager library provided by The Old Log Cabin, a quiant bed & breakfast hidden in a valley in the Cascade mountains. In the background, some soft jazz could be heard in the den.
Settling down in a comfortable leather chair with a local newspaper, Sabastian was interupted by a young coed named Sherry. “Lovely music“, she said.
Without looking up he responded, “Yes, I suppose it is. I hadn’t really noticed.” Peering over his paper to see who the lovely voice belonged to, he began to shake like a rattlesnake. He knew that he was in trouble.
“Are you staying here long?”, she asked. “Why, no… I’ll be catching a tailwind out early in the morning, as soon as the mechanic fixes the propeller on my plane.”, he replied, not knowing what he had done until the words came out of his mouth.
Excitedly, she asked, “Oh, you’re a pilot?”
Hoping to put her off, he replied “Yes, I’ve been flying for twenty years.”
“Isn’t that funny? That’s how old I am”, Sherry proclaimed. Sabastian said, “No kidding. I was just out of college.”
Sherry added, “What kind of plane do you fly? I bet it’s fast!”
“It’s just a little yellow and black…” He began, but Sherry giggled, “Like a cute little bumblebee.”
Sherry then added, “Don’t most people name their planes? What’s your plane called?” Sabatian responded, “Her name is Glory, after my wife, Gloria.”
“Oh, you’re married? Where’s your wife? Is she in your room?” She timidly asked. His face turning a shade of color representing each season, he answered, “No, she couldn’t make this trip. She’s at home.”
Sherry said, “Oh, that’s too bad.”
Just then, a man’s voice calls Sherry, “Hun, are you coming to bed?” “That’s my husband. I have to go. It was nice meeting you, sir.”
Letting out a sigh of relief, he said, “You too, dear.”
Oh man. That was good. I found myself sitting up at attention to this. The tension you created was real…and real good. Nicely done. Very nice.
Shane, that means a lot. Thank you. I’ve never written anything like that before, but was having fun with it. I love these challenges. They get the creative juices flowing.
That amazes me. People don’t know they have talent sometimes until they fall on it. Look at Sting and Sherly Crow; both were freakin’ school teachers before they tried their hand at singing. Dave Matthews bartended before he had enough faith in himself to try his hand at singing. You never know Todd. Well, now you do.
I’ve been writing for two years. Before that I hadn’t written a single thing other than an email, a letter to my wife, or something directly related to my business in over a decade.
Sean, you’ve only been writing for two years? Seriously? I had no idea.
Yup. If the Sean from two years ago had heard he’d be writing for a living, he’d never have believed it!
A little late, but as always, a lot of fun!
“Ah, my sweet, not much longer now.” I ran my fingers through her auburn hair and down her sweat covered brow, delighting in the bittersweet aroma of angst. The music of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Symphony No. 25 in G Minor, thrust itself in waves of perfect suspense from the stereo speakers on the bookshelf. The propellor of a cheap apartment fan whirred along in perfect harmony, adding to the constantly swelling tailwind of my desires.
I first came upon Mary at a co-ed dorm party where she was completely intoxicated and more than willing to explore our commonalities in a more private setting. This lovely teenage sacrifice, studying to be a dietician, was easily won over by the creative tale I wove about teaching a fall semester course on nutrition. I was continually amazed at how trusting first year students could be, much to their detriment in the end. They did, however, eventually learn that I truly was a connoisseur in herbs and spices, a dietician of cannibalism. It took a skilled chef to combine the perfect seasons to compliment a perfect cut of meat…. And she certainly was a fine specimen.
Fear is an amazing reaction. The human brain secretes chemicals within the hippocampus, the amygdala, and the hypothalamus. When harvested at the exact moment of release, these compounds are the ideal all-natural seasoning. My utensil in concocting these sublime ingredients went by the name of “Bumblebee” . In all her glory, Bumblebee was an eight foot long Eastern Diamondback rattlesnake. I had smuggled her across the Canadian border after a business trip to Texas eight years ago. Since then, I have been providing her with a steady diet of neighborhood cats and other such pests… and of course the table-scraps of fine dining.
Lisa,
That completely and totally rocked. Hats off to you.
Lisa. Wow! That was “she puts the lotion in the basket” intense!
Nicely done. You rocked it indeed.
Wow! I want to read more. I can’t remember ever reading a story like that from this perspective. Very chilling.
Thanks guys. Good clean fun in a wicked evil manner! Have I mentioned I am becoming totally addicted to writing these things??
Ever wonder what sort of music a coed dietician might play in her head while that fat patient squeezes his rattleshake and lets out a tailwind fart? Would she reminisce about the glory days of U2 or the propeller sounds of the acid rock band her socialite bumblebee of a roommate stores on the living room bookshelf? Neither? Maybe “Seasons of Change” from RENT?
Awesome Ari. Lots packed into that short piece, and it was a great, fun, read for me.
I tell you that that coed studying to be a dietician has got Jowls ALL mixed up inside. She is one gorgeous Hmong, prettier than her sister, Chu Zi, who we met when we rescued that IMF exec in Laos a few years ago. To have Chu’s sister, May Li, living in the same building as Jowls here in Suffolk, was really a shock to us. Their father had been killed in 1976 during the end of the war, and their mother had taken her two young sons and younger daughter to the refugee camps, and then eventually to the US. Chu had not been so lucky. A beautiful girl, she had been attacked and left for dead with her father. Her mother hadn’t even know that she survived. When we helped her get to the states, we had no idea that several years later we would meet her sister 2500 miles away. MayLi was one of the volunteers helping clean up after the April 2008 tornado when we first met her. Jowls was stricken immediately, and when he greeted her “Koj tuaj los!”, (”You Come!” for you non-linguals) she jumped like she had been bitten by a rattlesnake. Love her accent, when I said something about her being bitten by a snake, she made it sound like “rattleshake“. Later we learned of her relationship to Chu.
Did I mention how much I liked Chu? She would always make it a point to come sit by me, with our legs touching. She always tried to get me to come to lunch or dinner with her. When we were talking as a group, she would manage to work her way around to be standing by me. She started listening to the same music I did. Old jazz. You’ve got to love it. A couple of times she came up behind me while I was working and put her arms around my neck. I really liked the attention, but we had a job to do and she wasn’t part of it. Too bad though…
May has a very unique bookshelf. It’s very unique, made of an unusual wood, with carvings of bee hives and bumblebees on it. Although she is studying to become a dietician, she has a wonderful selection of history, biography, biochemistry, astronomy, nanotechnology, and microbiology books as well. I’ve borrowed a couple of them from her from time to time. She has one in particular that I’ve been trying to get from her, Depths of Glory. I really like it. It’s a biographical novel about the life of Camille Pissarro. Great read.
Anyway, Jowls really wanted to impress her. I mean, like REALLY wanted to impress her. SO he asked me if he could use my plane, the Four Seasons, to fly May and her mom to Albuquerque to meet Chu Zi. How was I going to refuse that one? I hadn’t seen her in about three years, and I still remembered the smell of her and the feel of her arms wrapped around me. I tell you… No, you can guess…
I’ve got connections at Lockheed, so I keep the Four Seasons in one of the unused hangers at The Lighthouse. We took off in a light drizzle, circled around the Center, wagged our wings over the Planter’s plant as usual, and headed west. Normally we have a bit of a headwind headed west, but today we had an unusual tailwind. The forecast had been fairly clear, certainly well within the range of normal spring weather. We planned to be in New Mexico for 10 days, so we should be back in plenty of time for the Festival of Flight the end of May.
We didn’t make it. I still don’t know what we hit, but the right propeller came apart in mid-air north of Nashville. I woke up in June.
Cleve, loved the story. Fantastic last line. That was quite a cliff hanger.
I opened the pocketbook I had lifted from the library bookshelf. The next character on the list was a Dietician. I found the uncreative young lady at her nondescript desk on the ground floor of the community hospital.
Dim as she was, she recognized me as soon as I walked through the door.
“It didn’t have to be like this,” I told her. “It isn’t as if you had to have a rattlesnake tattoo coiling out of your ass. How hard would it have been for you to take a liking to Bumblebee tea? If you had done anything, anything at all, I wouldn’t be here.”
“What will you do when the seasons change?” asked the Dietician.
Her quirky delivery reminded me of a coed I once dated at the University of Victoria. She was music major—a harpist—destined for glory. That is, until she got caught in the tailwind of a low-flying airship, sucked up into the firmament, and then diced to beautiful little bits in a dirigible propeller.
The recollection made me physically ill. I turned on the Dietician with a retching belly and undid her with the chrome quill.
Troy, I could see this story as a movie. Really well done. You should compile it into one page on your site. Excellent.
The bumblebee dove for the honeysuckle, its wings a flurry of propeller fury until it dropped to the vine, where it sat delicately, dipping into the sweet nectar like a prim dietitian.
His tailwind must have spooked the rattlesnake I’d been observing, as I heart his unmistakable rattleshake as he slithered away.
Many seasons from now, when my friends recall the clubbing, music, and drinking of their coed glory days, I will instead point to the bookshelf of nature journals I kept throughout my college days.
Loved this one, too. You are on a roll today with all these challenges you are catching up on.
Thanks Shane! I’m hoping to get all the way caught up by next week–with a big stress on “hoping!”