Rhythm isn’t just for dancing. I think rhythmic when I watch my ten year old granddaughter play sports, especially basketball. She takes her time, glides easily down the court, and smoothly out turns her opponents with quick side steps, backing up, switching hands to dribble, and leaping to net the ball to score.
Category: Bladder cancer
Colleen’s Weekly Challenge # 22
My open door awaits
Friends or enemies alike
Enter if you dare
A smile or sneer will greet you
Depends on your demeanor.
https://colleenchesebro.com/2017/02/21/colleens-weekly-tanka-poetry-challenge-22/
Flash Fiction-Week 09-200 words
It was done. There was no other answer. Jack had gotten away with the humiliation of others for too long. Why a person would even think like that in the first place, I can’t imagine. But then to carry it to the extreme of firing them and ruining their lives? I can’t stand the thought of him getting away with it again.
John got into his car and sped out of the parking lot. He was not looking forward to telling his wife what he did. But he was almost proud of himself for having the courage to do it. He would find a different job in a new area. This small town isn’t capable of fighting people like Jack.
Discrimination is just a distant word that happens to other people. It’s okay to hire others when crops need harvesting, but to work alongside these people all year in regular jobs was unheard of. They were good for a time, but when school started, their kids mixed in with your kids. This wasn’t acceptable in rural areas.
John drove home, not exactly sure of his wife’s reaction. She greeted him with her usual hug. “I quit today”, he said sadly.
Tanka Challenge-33
Imagination
Dreams, wishes, stories
For a wonderland.
Every child needs these things
For their spirit to take wing.
Daily Prompt: Hideout
In the seventies, we had a home with a treehouse in the garage. We called it the treehouse but it was actually a wooden structure in the rafters. It was big enough to sleep in and had a trap door. That’s all that was needed for our two boys to make mischief in their secret hideout. Of course I have only found out years later all the activities that occurred there. Every family get together there is usually another misadventure revealed. I’m just glad they survived these hideout happenings.
Prompt-18-Breeze
“Every little breeze seems to whisper Louise”🎼 Nah, just kidding. You know your age is showing when a word first brings to mind a song from 1929. No, I wasn’t alive then, but our family was a lover of music, songs and musical movies.
There’s hardly a moment without a breeze here in Wyoming. I’m far enough east of the mountains to not have their protection. Winds here last night gusted at seventy-five miles per hour. Just on the news: our area has been chosen for airplane testing in wind conditions!
The corridor between apartment buildings offers a nice “breezeway” for them. The worst nuisance besides not being able to maintain any type of hairstyle, is the dust/dirt that invades my living room from between the weatherstripping on my door. I can either endure that daily hassle or have the door so tight I can’t open it. Such is apartment life.
https://allaboutwritingandmore.wordpress.com/2017/02/21/daily-word-prompt-18-breeze/
Prompt-17-Woods
The woods for me are someone else’s forest. A forest sounds like a nice, neat, safe plot of trees, well maintained. Woods are unsculptured, huge, dark, secretive places that you might not want to venture in at night. The forest has patches of openness, sunny spots, and you might see a knight prancing along on his white steed. The woods are home to gnarled tree trunks, overbearing evergreens, and spreading, unkempt roots. Here you might see a red eyed, ratty furred wolf, or sleeping bats hanging from the branches. The forest might have a few flowering bushes, well trimmed, while in the woods you may see thorny brambles with poisonous berries.
I ask you, forest? Or woods?
https://allaboutwritingandmore.wordpress.com/2017/02/20/daily-word-prompt-17woods/
Twittering Tales-18
Travel Theme-Turquoise
My original was a photo of Crater Lake in Oregon, but couldn’t find my picture of it where the edges were a beautiful turquoise. So here are two similarly colored crater lakes:
Picture Prompt-73
This is the last picture of my friend Julie. She was an anthropologist by profession, and an adventurer by choice. This the last time I saw her. Just a casual photo of her while she was photographing a mysterious hieroglyphic she spotted on the ceiling of this cave. Julie was always a curious sort and when she asked me to accompany her on this new adventure, I was happy to do so. I didn’t have her same spirit of adventure, but I thought I would learn some history and meet new people, maybe even friends. We had known each other since college, and this would be our first vacation together.
This day started out early, as the trek through the desert was a long one, and the guide was gruff and impatient. He was our only choice as we asked around to be taken to this area. He stepped up right away when he heard where we wanted to go. Julie had researched this particular cave, but no one seemed to know just where it was except this old man. We climbed in, settled our gear and left the hotel. Julie had most of her camera equipment so there wasn’t room for much else. We didn’t receive any help from the guide. We were jostling along when we noticed a few odd homemade signs along the way. Julie took pictures of them, but the old man just muttered when we asked them what they said.
We arrived near the cave location and Julie practically flew out of the jeep. I unloaded the rest of our stuff and followed, carrying all but her camera gear. I was also anxious to see the inside after Julie told me the stories she had heard about it. I was just entering the cave when I heard an engine and the old man drove off, giving us a rude gesture as he left. I turned to Julie in desperation. Here we were in the middle of nowhere, and she didn’t even seem to notice. I yelled at her, asking what will we do now? She seemed disinterested, eyeing the cave walls. I again asked her, but she ignored me. I sat the gear down and went over to her.
Julie was now completely engrossed in the cave walls and what she saw there. She started telling me the story of the pictures drawn and carved. It was straight out of a cheap science fiction novel about alien creatures landing on earth. I was about to say take me to your leader in a weird voice, when she gasped. I tried to see what she saw, but couldn’t. I asked if she was okay and she just started snapping photo after photo. It was as if she saw something I didn’t.
I walked back to the pile of gear I had unloaded and got out my own small camera. I stood back and tried to capture a lot of the cave with Julie in the middle. That’s the picture above. After my flash went off I looked in the camera to see if the digital flash worked or if I had to retake. I looked back and Julie was gone. She and her camera had disappeared. I ran around to see how I could have missed her walking out by me, but she wasn’t outside either. I ran back in and looked again at the drawings that captivated her. I couldn’t really decipher them. I looked up where she must have taken the last photo, but it was blank.
I pulled out my cell phone and dialed her number. It had been disconnected. I called 911 and they sent someone out to pick me up. I tried finding the old man who drove us out to the cave. No one remembered seeing him. His vehicle was never found. The cave has since been blocked off by the local authorities. If the hotel people hadn’t noticed both of us being there, I would probably have been arrested. I went home alone.
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The Bag Lady 
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