Daily Post Prompt: Squat

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“You don’t know diddly squat about it!”

bathroom-door-for-girlsjpg“Oh, yes I do. I know you broke a date with Mary Jane to go out with Hildy.”

Sam Paskell stood toe-to-toe with his best friend, Herman Gates. “Herman,” he growled, grasping his friend by the shirt collar and pulling him forward, “if you say one word about that to anyone else, I’ll clobber you.”

“Hey, I don’t squeal on my friends; you know that. It just made me mad that you insisted I didn’t know what I was talkin’ about.”

“How’d you find out?”

“I heard some girls talkin’ about it when I was listenin’ outside the girls’ bathroom door.”

Sam smirked. “I’ve told you over and over that one of these days the teacher’s going to catch you doin’ that.”

“Yeah … prob’ly … but in the mean time, I get me some good learnin'”

“So who was talking about me?”

“Della Thompson. She said she saw you out with Hildy at the movies that night. Mary Jane had already told her you broke your date because you got sick.”

“Darn! I gotta think of somethin’ to tell Mary Jane.”

“Well, I got a idea.”

“What?”

“Tell her your mom is best friends with Hildy’s aunt, and she insisted that you take Hildy out. Then tell Mary Jane you was too ashamed to admit that you couldn’t stand up to your mom about it, because you care so much for Mary Jane that you couldn’t bear for her to think badly of you. And then ask her to please forgive you for not being completely honest. Tell her you don’t deserve anyone as good as her, and that you’ll understand if she can’t forgive you, but you’ll be broken-hearted over it.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“Gets ’em every time.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Man … I keep tellin’ ya. I learn all this stuff standin’ outside the girls’ bathroom door.”

“They do all this talkin while they’re squatting over the stool?”

“Heck no, man. Don’t you know nothin’? Girls don’t go to the bathroom just to squat over the stool. They go to talk. Ain’t you ever noticed how one girl don’t ever go to the bathroom alone? They always go in two’s and three’s. It’s to do all the gossipin'”

“Well, I’ll be. Maybe I need to spend some time outside that bathroom door getting myself a real education.”   

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Okay, I know it’s a stupid little story, but I didn’t have much time to think of a better one. And besides — there’s a lot of truth in it.”

To participate in today’s prompt challenge visit here.

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Daily Post Prompt: Sound / ‘The Approaching Silence’

Ear 2
In response to today’s Daily Post Prompt (Sound), I’ve offered the first few pages of a story in progress. Just a little sci-fi to flavor your day.

THE APPROACHING SILENCE

“In other news today, Dr. Leopold Barnes, director of the U. S. Atmospheric and Meteorological Testing Center located inside the Arctic Circle, issued reports of unusual occurrences of silence in a fifty-mile radius surrounding their base. ‘For a period of eight or nine hours, there was no sound of any kind,’ said Barnes. ‘It was the strangest phenomena I’ve ever experienced,’ he added, ‘and all of my co-workers here agree. We could hear nothing, even when we spoke or pounded on a door.’ Barnes went on to say that the experience lasted only for that time period, and then things returned to normal. Scientists from the AMTC are doing further investigations, and Dr. Ruben Perez, director of the center’s headquarters in Leadville, Colorado, has declined comment until those investigations are finished.”

Ruben switched off the small TV in his office, his thoughts whirling, his adrenalin building. He walked to his desk in the next room and pulled a file from his drawer. It contained hard copy of a report that had been e-mailed to him yesterday from the British-manned testing base at the South Pole. The e-mail had been sent to seven scientists on a pre-approved list, and he’d been unable to get the words off his mind all night. “… total and absolute silence for a period of 7 hours,” it had said.

He picked up the sheet he’d printed out earlier. “Not one machine noise could be heard. We spoke to each other, but could hear nothing and, in fact, had to rely on reading lips and sign language even to do the work necessary to run some tests and figure out what was happening. So far, we just don’t know. But at the end of the 7 hours — can’t be more precise since it took several minutes to even realize that the situation existed all over the base – but at the end of that time, all sound returned and hasn’t fluctuated at all in these past 3 hours.”

That report had come in at almost midnight last night, and now this similar experience involving their own people up by the North Pole today was too much of a coincidence to be coincidence. Based on his experience – which covered the first twenty years of the new millennium – it was one for the books. He picked up the phone, punching in numbers memorized long ago. “Hello, John.” He spoke briskly, but the warmth in his voice denoted his long friendship with the listener.

“Ruben, my boy. Good to hear from you.”

“Same here, John, but I’m going to get right down to business this morning. You’ve, no doubt, been apprised of the report coming out of Barnes’ Arctic base this morning.”

“Yes, I read it this afternoon.” He paused, and Ruben waited. After the slight hesitation, John continued. “Boy, I’ve experienced some odd phenomena in my forty years of research, but this one beats the best of them in my book.”

“Right. I agree, but there’s more. Have you received any word about the e-mailed report from McGregor at the South Pole?”

“McGreggor? No, is he experiencing something similar?”

Ruben picked up the printed report again to read it to his colleague. “Well, I’m on the list of seven men who are kept updated on the work there, and let me read you my e-mail from last night.” He read the whole text and waited.

A long, low whistle sounded through the line. “Man!” Another pause as both men processed the facts they’d encountered. They couldn’t refute them, but they certainly didn’t want to believe them. Finally Ruben broke the silence.

“No thoughts on it?”

“Hmmm. Well … I have to say I’m stymied. No … more than that. … I guess I’d have to admit I’m a little troubled.”

Ruben sighed. “That’s not like you, John. You’re generally the last one to consider something alarming. What’s the difference here?”

John Cartwright sighed heavily. “I think it’s time for me to share some things that I’ve been keeping an eye on – privately – for the past few months. But, Ruben, this information has to be kept confidential until I decide how far to spread it. I’m sure I can trust you – and Soren Petroff. Does anyone else come to your mind who would be the soul of discretion in the face of some evidence that could – just possibly – be world-shaking?”

“Whoa! You mean you’ve been looking into something connected with this loss of sound for several months?”

“Let’s just say that I’ve been checking out a couple of minor – very minor – events that I’ve encountered and wondered about. Now … in the face of these two larger events … I don’t think I want to keep it to myself any longer. But I can’t begin to impress on you how vital secrecy is at this point, Ruben. I’m sure you can appreciate that fact.”

Ruben nodded, even though he knew his friend could not see him. “I do understand. I’m not arguing that point. I guess … well, I guess I’m just still in some degree of shock where all of it’s concerned. But, as far as a good man with a closed mouth is concerned, I do have a suggestion – although it’s not exactly a good man.”

“What?”

Ruben couldn’t resist a chuckle. “I’m talking about Dr. Lenora Coleman, John. She’s worked with me here in this center for three years now, and I’ve rarely worked with anyone more intelligent – or wise. She not only has what it takes in the brains department, but she seems to have a kind of sixth sense about how to use the knowledge she has to the best advantage for all parties concerned. That’s a rare quality in our work.”

“Well, if you have such high regard for her, I’m willing to let her in on the meeting. But, Ruben, it will have to take place at my home in Denver. I’m not taking any chances of being overheard by anyone else at this point. This whole situation may be one short, aberrant period of atmospheric distress and may have no meaning for the future at all. So I don’t want anyone overhearing bits and pieces and running wild with them. I don’t think we can afford not to be careful with our discussions at this point.”

John’s words were reverberating through Ruben’s mind even as he answered. “Agreed. When should we set the meeting?”

“I’d like to suggest tomorrow morning if you and Lenora can make it that soon. Say 10:00. I’ll give everyone lunch.”

“I’ll check with Nora and get right back to you.”

“Good. I’ll do the same with Soren, but I’m pretty positive he’ll drop anything else when I tell him the details.”

“Thanks, John. I’ll call back soon.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Ruben couldn’t sit still. He got up and paced his office, hearing John’s words over and over: “… may be just one short aberrant period … may have no meaning for the future …” Ruben rubbed the back of his neck, trying to erase the tension that had grabbed him with those words. Before that statement, he’d felt they were dealing with a weird, but interesting phenomenon of nature that would prove to be one for the text books but little else. With those few words – coming from one of the nation’s most eminent scientists, whose hunches Ruben had learned long ago to trust implicitly – he could feel something else creeping in. He refused to acknowledge it as fear. He tore his thoughts away from the repetition of words and started down the hall to Nora’s office.

~

The following morning four puzzled scientists convened in the dining room of Dr. John Cartwright. The three men knew each other well since they had worked on several projects together over the years. Ruben introduced Dr. Coleman to his friends and explained that he had briefed her on all that he had discussed with John the previous day.

“Nora told me during our drive here that she spent two years working with Dr. Armond Newman in Germany.”

Soren looked up sharply. “The physicist who received so much notoriety for his work in acoustics?”

“Yes,” Nora said. “He discovered some interesting fluctuations in how sound waves traveled through air and through several other substances when there was a change in the magnetic field around the immediate area in which the sounds were being emitted.”

“But tell them about the experiments he did even after his article was published,” said Ruben.

“I was fascinated by some of the work he was doing and kept asking so many questions that he finally confided in me about some private experiments he was conducting and eventually allowed me to observe them and take part in them. He manipulated the magnetic fields in these experiments until he was able to strike a metal gong with a metal hammer, but not one sound came from it. Or, at least that’s what seemed to be the case. But when he checked the instruments that measured the sound waves themselves, he discovered that sound had been emitted, but was not picked up by our ears.”

“Fascinating,” John said, scooting his chair closer to the table and leaning his elbows on it, allowing him to come closer to Nora as she spoke.

“Yes,” she said. “I was totally fascinated – in fact I was captivated by all of it. “He then called in his dog and had him sit with us as he repeated the striking of the gong. Again we heard nothing, but his dog did. And, as I’m sure all of you know, dogs are capable of hearing a much higher pitch than humans, but are deaf to sound pitches below 40 hertz. His dog heard the gong, but in a later experiment, where Dr. Newman tried several different materials which would produce sound at much lower hertz than the gong, his dog heard only one of those experiments, and he and I still heard nothing.”

“And you say it was the change in the magnetic field? Nothing else?” asked John.

“That was the most fascinating part of the experiments. Absolutely everything remained the same in every experiment except the magnetic field around the instrument emitting the sound and its immediate area. With every significant change in that magnetic field, the ability to hear the sounds changed as well.”

“But physics doesn’t lead us to believe that the magnetic field plays that large a part in the emission and transmission of sound waves,” said Soren.

Ruben spoke for the first time then. “Well, up to this point in time, science hasn’t proven a connection, but you know as well as I, Soren, that one of the things we pride ourselves on as scientist is that we are learning more about the universe and its vagaries all the time.”

John spoke again. “Ruben, you have a degree in geomagnetics. Was there anything – anything at all – in your studies that hinted at a possibility of connection?”

“I did come across one interesting theory, proposed during the early 1940’s.” ………………


©2014 Sandra Conner

Daily Post Prompt: Heard

`smiley-no-circle-black-wh`

I heard
The word ‘cinquain.’
It popped into my head.
And so I knew I had to write
Cinquain.


My motto is this: If you want to participate in a “Daily Post” prompt, but you have nothing of substance to write — write a cinquain. Now, it isn’t that I don’t feel cinquain can have substance. It’s more the fact that, for some reason (maybe because I like the form so much), I seem to be able to write a cinquain on almost any subject under the sun. In fact, that point makes me want to write one about — what else — the sun.

Sunshine
Poured out on me
Is like a lovely bath:
It cleanses and invigorates
My soul.


Okay. I’m done now. Here’s the link in case you want to have a go at today’s prompt.

 

 

 

‘Releasing the Creative Writer in You’- Instruction in the Craft of Writing

releasing-the-creative-writer-in-you-coverToday’s prompt from the Daily Post gives me the perfect opportunity to introduce a new series of articles I’ll be offering on this site. I’ve taught creative writing for years, and I am currently gearing up to begin an online instructional course (via e-mail) that I can offer to people who want to take my writing courses but who don’t live within commuting distance. While preparing for that online project, I decided to offer a series of instructional articles here on my website as well.

Of course, the articles here won’t include any editing or feedback for people who do the exercises or write stories connected with the instruction. That service will be part of the actual online e-mail course only. But I thought there might be several readers who would like to glean from the information, suggestions, and experience that I can share from this venue.

The material will come primarily from my writing curriculum Releasing the Creative Writer in You (2013, St. Ellen Press). Some articles will simply be encouragement in certain areas, but many of them will offer specific suggestions that can lead us to keep making our writing better.

I know for certain that I am a much better writer today than I was 10 years ago. In fact, there’s such a difference that I rarely go back and read any of the novels I wrote the first couple years of my fiction writing because I always want to change way too many things, and I’m frustrated because the books are already in publication. But my improvement in writing was primarily the result of writing.  As simple as that sounds, it’s the truth. The more we write — and the more we challenge ourselves to stretch out into new territory and experiment in areas beyond our comfort zones — the better we become at our craft.

So I’ll be posting some segments of my curriculum on here once a week for several weeks. Some of my readers are brand new writers, who can glean something useful from all of the posts. However, I know many of you will already be very familiar with the skills and techniques I’ll be discussing. Hopefully, even for the very experienced, the articles will still give a lift and maybe a new surge of energy. The first couple of posts will be articles that I’ve posted in the past, but they are the best way to introduce the curriculum, so I’ll begin with them.

My plan is to post the instructional articles on Saturdays. I hope they are a source of real help to any readers who are just beginning to delve into their own creativity and writing skills, and an encouragement to several of you out there who already enjoy practicing and maturing your craft.

I love teaching my creative writing classes, and I’m excited about sharing more of that same material here.


 

Daily Post Prompt: The Scent of You

 

woman-looking-up-for-profileThe scent of you:
It calls me from my worried place
And draws me into quiet peace
As your essence gently folds
Around my soul.

The scent of you:
It fills my senses with delight
And stirs the embers of desire
Into a lavish, living fire
That satisfies.

The scent of you:
It causes me to seek to know
My inner self, my deepest soul,
And then to strive to be the best
That I can be.


 

Take part in today’s prompt by visiting the Daily Post.

 

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Daily Post Prompt: Yellow

Well, this is a another oldie that I pulled from the archives, but it fits the prompt so perfectly that I couldn’t resist.

CLIP ART SUNSET

 

YELLOW

Yellow sun, yellow moon,
Yellow ribbon on yellow balloon;

Yellow crayons for coloring,
Yellow bird that chirps and sings.

Yellow squash ripe on the vine,
Yellow daffodils — all mine.

Yellow hair, with cheeks so pink,
Yellow lemonade to drink;

Yellow duckies, yellow chicks,
Yellow grapefruit freshly picked;

Yellow butter drips and drops
From tender, yellow corn-on-cob.

Yellow curtains, crisp and bright,
Yellow anti-bug porch light;

But yellow has its ugly side:
Yellow fever; could have died;

Yellow-bellied, yellow streak,
Yellow-livered, backbone weak.

And sometimes yellow can’t be seen:
It hides in blue and turns to green.


If you want to participate in today’s prompt, you’ll find the details here.

 

Daily Post Prompt: Successful

I decided to respond to today’s prompt with a picture. It’s one of the most “successful” pieces of photographic art I’ve seen in many years. And, of course, it’s from my wonderful photographer/artist friend, Terry Valley.

midnight-swan-full-size


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Daily Post Prompt: ‘Don’t Cling to Me’

woman-leaning-on-man-ring

 

Don’t cling to me.
I can’t stand being smothered by your love.
I must stay free
To come and go – free to shift and move.

Don’t ask for more.
I do not have the wherewithal to give
Undying love.
Commitment makes me feel like a captive.

Don’t cling to me.
If you insist on holding me too tight,
I’ll have to leave.
In liberty is where I find delight.


 

Visit here to take part in today’s prompt.

 

 

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Daily Post Prompt: ‘Uneven Odds’

 

BLOWING KISS - red & white
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Uneven odds: that’s what I’d give this thing called love.
At best, it’s quite a chancy undertaking.
Offering heart and soul into another’s hands
Could so easily be heartache in the making.

But then, again, if one refuses constantly
To take a chance that odds are in his favor,
If he never once succumbs to vulnerability,
He’ll never find a love that he can savor.

So what then is the answer to this need for love?
Perhaps another poet’s words are worth recall. *
Uneven odds may mean a lover suffers loss,
But better that than never to have loved at all.


* “In Memoriam A.H.H.” Canto 27. Alfred Lord Tennyson

Take part in today’s prompt by vising the Daily Post.

 

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Daily Post Prompt: Shine – via Terry Valley Photography

Today’s prompt made me think instantly of some great “shiny” photos by my friend, photographer Terry Valley.

terrys-sparkling-lake-larger

country-morning-shine

forest-b-w-hazy

icicles-at-falls-brt

wake-up-to-winter


To participate in today’s prompt visit the Daily Post.

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Daily Post Prompt: Infinity – in blank verse

row-of-blue-heartsAD INFINITUM

My love for you, dear one, is infinite.
You cannot measure it in pounds or inches.
Math equations can’t unlock its depth.
Its volume goes beyond the range of liters,
And years and centuries fall short of accuracy.

In truth, there’s just no way to estimate
How vast and how eternal what I feel.
All I can say is that when this life ends,
I’ll still be loving you with all I am.
And on into infinity, the same.


To participate in the prompt visit the Daily Post.

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Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge: Resilient

This week’s challenge calls for focus on people, places, or things that are resilient. I chose people.

Two gentlemen in their eighties who personify resiliency in so many ways. To live well into the 80th decade of life having focused — and still focusing — on loving and giving to others above all else leads to the kind of happy faces these two shared when I snapped this picture. These two friends are both authors/song writers/teachers/fathers/grandfathers/courageous veterans on the battlefield of life. They are very special people.

max-dad-2-with-frame

 

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Daily Post Prompt: Fishing

 

WISHIN’

two-black-fish-lightened

Just sittin’ here wishin’
That I could go fishin’
That way I’d be missin’
Doin’ all this here work.

But iffen’ I was fishin’,
There’d be no commission;
Room and board I’d be missin’;
So this work I can’t shirk.


 

To participate in today’s prompt, visit here.