Well, here it is anyway.
Horizons
The view outside the window, what I could see of it through the nine by twelve inch piece of plexiglass, was a dreamscape of fantasy and illusion. The clouds in the sky were pink and silver wisps of spun cotton candy, so close I felt like I could reach out and pull the gossamer strands away from the fluffy masses. White puffs stretched out in endless peaks and valleys until my gaze got lost at the edge of the horizon. The sudden veil of gray that obscured my vision as we passed into a mountainous mass of moisture made me blink and I landed in my seat, waiting for the pilot to announce our descent into Madison.
Thanks, Deb. I've never been so frustrated with that one. I started composing it on the plane and I wanted to write some of it down only I didn't have a pen! Man, just one of those days, ya know?
Deb -- Nattery, but Deb doesn't hang in in Bitches, so...mea culpa.
Date! Easier than I remember! Went well. Funny, smart, and I felt a tingle. Good mix of raunchy stories, and thoughtfulness. I gave him my number.
And he's written a book. Hrm.
But, hey, survived my first date in 4 years.
Woo.
Survived and prospered, sounds like to me. Drabble it!
Just under the wire. At least I thought of something this time, sort of a double drabble:
The First Window
She cooked the dinner, humming a tune. It would be on the table just as her husband crossed the threshold, golden buttery biscuits, pork chops and apples. Their son, beautiful, bright, wriggly boy, waited at the window for a glimpse of Daddy.
A scream, obscene with terror, rolled from the living room and wrapped around her, clutched her belly. She'd never heard the like. She reached him before the spatula hit the floor, but he couldn't speak, just pointed at the window and wailed. She rocked him against her breast and let the dinner burn.
The Second Window
He came into the living room wearing nothing but graying white undershorts loose on his frame, his legs below like pale wormed tree trunks, white belly above, shaggy dark hair at the top. I never saw his eyes. He moaned at the frail old lady half his size, advancing around the worn, delicate furniture like Frankenstein’s monster until she brought up the cattle prod and forced him back into his room. I jumped with every bzzt.
Safe in the car, Mom told a story of demons at windows on foggy nights who eat children’s souls and leave them monsters and I watched his bedroom window curtains, thick and tightly drawn, until the house disappeared around a bend.
Check me out, being all timely!
Challenge #94 (view out your bedroom window) is now closed.
Challenge #95, since we haven't done it in a while, is to write a drabble (or more than one) based on one (or more) of the photos from the Look at Me website. Your choices are below -- when you post your drabble, please include the link to the photo you picked.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four. (The caption alone is worth its own drabble -- and it seems so incongruous with the picture.)
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
Ten.
I know -- it seems like a lot of the choices are dog-centric and/or HoYay-centric. But those are great writing topics....
What's scary is picture number four? Move the Conservatory out of the way behind her, and you can see the back of our house. That's how close to where we live that shot was taken.
