Foreign language

The llama started losing his stuffing in Prague. This was undoubtedly due to the rigors of riding in an 8-year-old's backpack, watching castles and subways with equal beady-eyed intensity. We made needle-and-thread hand signals to people on the street. In a shop with yarn in the window, we made swooping sewing motions in the air. We tried to point at needles on the crowded shelves behind the counter. Then a tattooed heavily pierced teenager said a few words to the clerk and picked out the correct amount from our proffered bills. She left the store, our thanks trailing behind her.

Understood in All Languages

The plane had left Rota four hours before, 180 people crammed knee to knee facing each other: smelling too much cologne, the last cigarette smoked, the alcohol guzzled the previous night. We deplaned at RAF Northolt, peeling out of our seats one at a time like sardines being lifted out of the can. At last, London.

At the hotel, we checked in and headed straight to the bar. I looked at my companion, who’d also opted for bar first, food later, “Beer?” She nodded, I turned to the bartender: “Dos cerveza, por favor.” He smiled, pulled two, set them down.

New drabble topic!

Challenge #120 (foreign languages) is now closed.

Challenge #121 is gambling. Roll 'dem bones.

Administrative note: This drabble community has been going strong for over 2 years now, which thrills me immensely. However, I'm getting burned out and having a hard time coming up with topics (which you may have noticed). Fortunately, in a stunning non-sucking move, Perkins has offered to spell me for a while. So when you see the weekly drabble topics posted by her, don't assume I've been kidnapped. (Though I might be -- I wouldn't put it past her....)

Every day I walk into the classroom is a gamble. They bet on me, and I bet on them. I gamble that they will walk in, be there, and be willing to work. They gamble on the fact that I will look past their pasts and be able to see them for who they are, and who they could become. And that finally, there is someone who will listen to them.

I'm a high roller. Every day, I walk past the neophytes into the high-stakes room. Screw those pansies with million dollar bets on cards and dice.

I play Russian roulette every day. And I play for lives.

I. love. Erin.

What a heartening response.

First day of school today; I'm in full-on "Damn, I love teaching!" mode.

That's a wonderful and powerful drabble, Erin!

Oh, Erin.

How I relate. I dunno if the grin or the tears to my eyes is the proper response, but you've got both working. I love teaching, too.

I had the SO read it and he waved his arms about how good it was.

Also, can I take this moment to say a terabyte's worth of thank-you's to our beloved Steph? You have been amazing to come up with these years' worth of topics. I love love love this thread; my writing has improved, I have enjoyed and learned from everyone's work, my creativity has blossomed. It's due to you and the other writers here.

The calibre of work continues to astound me, and it's because of the excellent thought-provoking topics you've provided. Thank you.

Transplant

The phone call comes in, from the expert at the renal unit. He uses a word, so chilly, so dark: rejection.

One kidney functional. It's on the edge of shutting down.

Suppose we could roll those dice? I have two healthy kidneys; you have one, a transplant that's threatening to die.

If it does, so do you. So do I.

Suppose those dice were mine? Would I flick my wrist, seven-come-eleven, make you whole again?

I cast the bones, offer the kidney. They run tests, while I cross fingers: seven-come-eleven.

Results? "Incompatible".

In life, in love, our dice came up snakeyes.

Also, can I take this moment to say a terabyte's worth of thank-you's to our beloved Steph?

Awwww. You are most welcome!!! And thanks for the compliment!

Deb -- ouch. Just....ouch.