Memory Twigs (NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo)

Written for NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo AND The Sunday Whirl

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2024/04/14/wordle-650/

Screenshot

~~*~~

Memory twigs fall

On ledge of my mind

Where I do not wish

To wallow lest

wake ancestors

Cause their crystal cup

Thus far, unbroken

To suddenly shatter…

I cannot abide stench–

Blood of divine cells

Drip of their august

Creation–spilling down

My face, coursing over

My body, covering my

Feet…and rising back

Up, so deep, too deep

Until I drown in cursed

Mystery unsolved…

Of what I came from

Who I should have been

©V.Sparrow, 2024

Escape to the Farm (3TC)

https://pensitivity101.wordpress.com/2024/04/12/three-things-challenge-m662/

Di’s 3 words are:  ALLOW, PERMIT, PERMISSION

🚜🚗🚜

Charlie, at 16, was devastated to learn he wouldn’t be allowed a student driver’s permit.

Like most teenagers his one aspiration in life was to be able to drive, even if only in his parents’ older car.  But there were rules, and they were set in place for a reason–a good reason, in his parents’ minds.

The first was that his grades had to improve–they’d not done so to an acceptable level.

The second was that he needed to show initiative and responsibility–not wait for his mom and dad to tell him several times to do minimal chores…then sigh as though burdened by life when he finally got up from bed, or his beanbag chair, to appease them.

So things were getting pretty tense and testy around their house, and Charlie wasn’t making fast progress toward the goal of becoming “another crazy driver who’ll endanger the rest of the world”. 

Which was NOT his goal–but rather, his folks’ paranoid and insulting visual.

He had every intention of being an excellent, careful driver, he’d assured them in his most serious voice.  To which his father had “harrumphed”, and his mom reached for the aspirin bottle.

But a miracle was on the way.  Grandpa called, wanting to know if Charlie felt like working for him a bit on the farm–salary yet to be determined.  Oh yes! this was his winning lottery ticket–Charlie packed a bag before his dad hung up the phone.

His grandfather arrived, visited a few minutes–then read Charlie’s eagerness to hit the road, in his bright eyes and wiggling foot.

When they got to the farm, Charlie saw the big tractor he’d admired since he could toddle over to it and shout, “cracter, cracter!”

He and Grandpa lunched on sandwiches Charlie’s mom had sent, and began talking business: the scope of Charlie’s farm duties, and an agreeable wage.

“Grandpa”, he interrupted, “I’d be happy with half the amount you want to pay me–I love being with you here on the farm…but I was kinda hoping maybe you’d let me drive the tractor”.

Wondering when this wish might surface, Grandpa smiled with delight.  He remembered being Charlie’s age…(the tractor was the love of his life, until he met Loralee, that is).  He made Charlie wait a long moment, pretending to ponder the idea.  Charlie remained silent, wiggling his foot.

“Permission granted,” Grandpa said, and then, “but this has to stay a private matter between us guys.  If your mom finds out, she’ll kill me–and I’m not ready for you to inherit all my worldly goods, and this farm.”

©V.Sparrow, 2024

Familiarity Breeds Contempt (3TC)

https://pensitivity101.wordpress.com/2024/03/30/three-things-challenge-m649/

Di’s 3 words:  BREAD, BREED, SPREAD

♠🍞♠

Hortense spread contempt

Like her Aunt Matilda’s prize-

Winning marmalade

On bread warm as flattery

So sweet t’would induce coma

~

The girl couldn’t help

Toxic aspect of her breed

Which killed her mother…

(Though the death remained suspect

Under investigation)

©V.Sparrow, 2024

The Doomed Sorbet (3TC)

https://pensitivity101.wordpress.com/2024/03/28/three-things-challenge-m647/

Di’s 3 words are:  OMIT, ORBIT, SORBET

The bride’s rehearsal luncheon was doomed…and perhaps the future of the marriage as well.

Naomi considered, not for the first time, that maybe she should rethink the notion of marrying Richard.  Was it borrowing a thimbleful’s too much trouble–wedding a man her parents despised (with mute but unveiled expressions)?

The defining kerfuffle occurred over the dessert menu, of all things.  Richard’s mother politely suggested they omit the lovely and light peach sorbet, and instead have something more elegant (rich, creamy, fattening)…at which point Naomi’s mother went into orbit

Curses cannonaded, floral arrangements flew, goblets grazed several guests, silver became sabers as the women ducked for cover.

As officers escorted Naomi’s mom from the restaurant, the party scattered…no one seemed to notice the bride-to-be’s absence.

That is, until the cleaning crew discovered her huddled beneath the table, weeping discreetly and mumbling: “but peach sorbet is Richard’s favorite”.

©V.Sparrow, 2024