Family Trip #WWP 122

“Do we have to? I hate being surrounded by all that old stuff. Besides, we come here every time.”

“Of course we do. Just shush. Do it for your father.”

“Yeah, brat, maybe you’ll even learn something. The key to your future is the past.”

They crossed the manicured grounds, climbed the steps and entered the old building. They were greeted at the door and reminded of the rules; inside voices, no running, no phones, and the items on display were to be looked at, not handled. Sneaking in a last punch at each other, the two boys followed their parents as the door closed on fresh air and sunshine.

“It smells in here.”

“Smell of history preserved. Check Dad out, he always goes to the same displays first.”

“Stupid, they’re not exhibits. This isn’t a museum.”

“Isn’t it? Mom, are we eating here at grandma’s too?”

 

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A family tale for Sammi’s  Weekend Writing Prompt #122. 147 words this time, using the word “museum”.

Sidelined

I’m in a sidewalk diner on a downtown side street, sitting at a little table that faces a large bike rack. I’m window-shopping without arousing suspicion, watching people and how they leave their bikes, hoping for a high-end number to come through. Even locked, I’ll have that bike released without anyone even noticing, will wheel away across town to my parked car, and whisk it into the spacious trunk.six sentence story copy

Just as I recognize her bike securely u-locked to the rack the waitress recognizes me; the girl from outside the college library says hello and thanks me again for my kindness and I realize with dismay that I’d broken my cardinal rule.

A Scott road bike catches my eye through the window and I watch a middle-aged businessman prove that he has no business keeping such a machine, but I may have to let it go, for I am no longer invisible.

***

From Cutting Loose, to Good Business, to this Six Sentence Story, the story is continued. The word from Denise this week is “cardinal”, the rules are to use that word in six sentences, no more, no less. Go to GirlieOntheEdge for more cardinal stories.

Stepping Out

When Dad told us Jimmy’s mom had asked him on a date, Jamie took my bike to her house.

“Is it okay, August?” He was looking at the trunk underneath the tired white shirts in his closet.

I swallowed. “Yeah, Dad. It’s okay.”

Pounding up the stairs, Jamie was back, brandishing brightly colored shirts. Dad protested but seemed glad.

“It’ll be all right.”

He smiled then because when Jamie says something you believe it.

Later Jamie told me what Dad said so quietly I hadn’t heard, that he’d whispered this was the hardest thing he’d done in seven years.

***

At Carrot Ranch the September 5, 2019, prompt is to write a story in 99 words (no more, no less) that shows true grit. You can use the phrase or embody the theme. Who or what has true grit? Go where the prompt leads you! 

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I’m not sure if this embodies the theme, but the prompt led me to Augie. I had thought I would write about the grit he and his new friend Jamie, both outsiders, demonstrate by showing up to middle school every day. But then it became about Augie’s father who has been a very quiet widower for seven years now, taking care of his son alone. The trunk in this episode alludes to Silence Shared.

Who? #D’Verse Poetics

dverselogoAt D’Verse Pub this evening Mish introduces Beverly Dyer. I recommend stopping in to learn more about this visual and literary artist/healer. It’s Tuesday Poetics; drop in at D’Verse Pub for Poets to read and write and for links to more of Beverly’s artwork.il_340x270.807854972_pbar.jpg

Who?

Who guides your brush?

colors your palette?

pictures your canvas?

Found feathers take flight

plumed brush or pointed quill

breathing images

giving wing to art.

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Good Business

six sentence story copyTo keep my bike business sustainable I play it safe, think of it like fishing, never overfishing any one pond; I stay around one campus for a while, blend in, then move on to another, never taking too much at any one time. Sitting on a bench or on library steps or against a tree in the lawn, I’m just another student studying for classes in the fall air, except I don’t go to classes- I’m in my work zone; I study the bike racks, assess the rolling stock, observe the people that leave their bikes there, philosophize at the temporary nature, the fallacy and futility, of ownership.

Here’s a bike of interest; it’s gorgeous, great paint, elegant lines, its beauty in its solid practicality, and already I am thinking that this Morgan horse of a bike might have to end up in my personal stable, already I’m noticing that the girl dismounting is about my size, I’m thinking this bike should be a good fit.

I say nice bike and she beams, obviously proud of it and tells me it’s the nicest thing she’s ever owned, that she saved and saved for it, figures this is her main means of transportation for a long while, around campus and to her three jobs that are putting her through college, tells me all this as she is securing her prize possession with a cable and padlock. It’s a solid padlock but it won’t take much to get through that cable, not much at all, so I go to another bike at the rack, unzip the handlebar bag and fish out the key for the u-lock, then give that u-lock and key to the girl, and I show her the best way to use them to discourage thieves.

She is so thankful and I just laugh and point out that the lock is more valuable than the bike it came from, then I disappear, knowing it has to be a catch and release day.

****

This Six Sentence Story is a continuation of Cutting Loose that originated from a Carrot Ranch prompt and was pushed further  by Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie . Link up and leave a six sentence story at GirlieOntheEdge’s blog. The prompt word is zone. Six sentences, no more, no less.