Worldly

“Worldly?”
“Yes, worldly. What’s wrong with worldly?” She put her hands on her slim hips and lightly stamped her foot on the ground, indignation clear on her face.
“Nothing’s wrong with worldly, little one. Do you know what it means?” The little girl’s mother smiled down at her as she washed a plate at the kitchen sink.
“Yes.” Her daughter claimed. “It means you’re from another world.”
At her mother’s gentle laughter, the child stomped from the room, tears in her eyes.
Putting the soapy plate in the sink, Mary turned to follow her daughter, wiping her hands on the dish towel at her waist.

 

worldly

Happy Reading!

~ Eileen πŸ™‚

Tambourine

Her hair flew in a wave as she turned, her skirt whirling around her smooth thighs. Tiny bells at her ankles tinkled merrily in time to the tambourine she tapped with her hands above her head. The sun dappled through the trees surrounding the courtyard, catching her eyes as she turned like blasts of sapphire light.

tambourine

 

Happy Reading!

~ Eileen πŸ™‚

Calligrammes

Do you know what a Calligramme is? I didn’t either until a few moments ago. I have a book called ‘Take Ten for Writers’ Β written by Bonnie Neubauer. The premise is that you use a writing exercise in the book and write for ten minutes. It’s a pretty cool book. The only thing I don’t like is that it claims to have 1,000 writing exercises, but there’s really only 100. Each exercise has ten ‘variations’. It’s the same prompt, but you pick a random number from 1 to 10 and then turn the page to find out what variation you will use in your writing. So there are 100 exercises with 10 variations each, so hence the 1,000 exercises. But 100 exercises is still a good number of exercises and so I’m happy with the book. But, I digress.

Exercise 10 in the book is all about Calligrammes. Calligrammes are pieces of writing that are in a shape that pertains to your topic. I have a 10 sided die and I roll it when doing the exercises to ensure my ‘variation’ number truly is random. So I rolled a number and my exercise was to write a stop sign shaped piece of writing that begins with ‘Stopping was . . .’. So I set my Write or Die Desktop edition for 10 minutes and began to write. Here’s a picture of my scribbling.

Eileen Maki Calligramme

 

Then I went into Scrivener and attempted to type it into the desired shape. This was my result.

Eileen Maki Calligrammes

 

The typed version looks more like a vase than a stop sign, but you get the idea. πŸ™‚

If you’re interested in checking out the Take Ten for Writers book by Bonnie Neubauer, CLICK HERE

 

 

Happy Reading!

~ Eileen πŸ™‚

Humid

Myra gasped for air, her long, lank hair sticking to her neck like straw colored plastic wrap to day old hot dogs. She swatted at flies buzzing around her head and tried to concentrate on her breathing. The air was thick and hung around the porch like mosquito netting. Myra took a deep breath in, fanning herself with her too-thin hand.

 

humid

Happy Reading!

~ Eileen πŸ™‚

Pursuit

In hot pursuit, Mike dodged the shoe she threw at him as he jumped over a turned over trash can. The alley was narrow and filled with items Mike never imagined he would see. She took her clothes off as she ran, throwing her skirt and blouse at him as they charged down the dark row.

pursuit

 

Happy Reading!

~ Eileen πŸ™‚

Glowing

Crouching near the base of the cement stairs, Magda could hear booted footsteps approaching. Shifting back into the shadows, the approaching torches were glowing, casting shadows of their bearer against the stone walls of the stairwell. She would know his profile anywhere. She unsheathed her dagger and held it firmly in her hand.

glowing

 

Happy Reading!

~ Eileen πŸ™‚

Charity

“Is that what I am to you? Charity?!” Spittle flew from his mouth.

She was startled by his anger but dared not respond. He was most dangerous when he yelled like this. Angry, but not being loud.

He stepped closer, his fetid breath washing over her face.

“Well?” He said, his eyes hot embers of fury.

 

Charity

Happy Reading!

~ Eileen πŸ™‚

Unfounded

I was afraid. Afraid my feelings were unfounded.
I lifted the tarp and saw the smooth shape of the convertible’s wheel wells beneath.
Pulling the tarp back further, a wave of foul odor hit my face like a brick. I could see a foot extended over the back seat into the front.

unfounded

 

Happy Reading!

~ Eileen πŸ™‚

Stylist

“For the last time, Mama, I’m not a hair dresser. I’m a stylist!”

“Stylist? Don’t go puttin’ on airs, Daughter Mine. You’re a hair dresser. Just like your no good Meemaw was.”

Tara felt hot tears running down her face.

“Meemaw was not no good, Mama.” She said in a low voice, eyes averted. “You are.”

 

stylist

Happy Reading!

~ Eileen πŸ™‚

Difficult

“I can’t.” Marie’s eyes dropped to the ground. Her pale hands were clasped in front of her, the red nails looking suddenly garish in the waning light.

“You can’t or you won’t? I know it’s difficult.” Michael put a gentle finger under her chin and tipped her face up. He met her eyes and smiled.

“I can’t.” She smiled with menace and Michael’s spine tingled in fear.

 

red nail polish

Happy Reading!

~ Eileen πŸ™‚