Trifextra: Week Ninety-One

Trifextra: Week Ninety-One

Your Trifextra challenge is to write 33 words on a beast in an unusual place. No swamps or forests or caves, we really want you to take your beast out of its comfort zone.

Your Trifextra challenge is to write 33 words on a beast in an unusual place. No swamps or forests or caves, we really want you to take your beast out of its comfort zone. - See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.RR84sbfS.dpuf

Your Trifextra challenge is to write 33 words on a beast in an unusual place. No swamps or forests or caves, we really want you to take your beast out of its comfort zone. - See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.RR84sbfS.dpuf

My entry is The Beast inside your Brain.

There is a beast inside my brain. It hides in the convolutions. It recharges on the synapses and feeds on the grey matter; nibbling away at it, letter by letter, word by word.

Your Trifextra challenge is to write 33 words on a beast in an unusual place. No swamps or forests or caves, we really want you to take your beast out of its comfort zone. - See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.RR84sbfS.dpuf

There is a beast inside my brain. It hides in the convolutions. It recharges on the synapses and feeds on the grey matter; nibbling away at it, letter by letter, word by word.

Your Trifextra challenge is to write 33 words on a beast in an unusual place. No swamps or forests or caves, we really want you to take your beast out of its comfort zone. - See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.RR84sbfS.dpuf

Your Trifextra challenge is to write 33 words on a beast in an unusual place. No swamps or forests or caves, we really want you to take your beast out of its comfort zone. - See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.RR84sbfS.dpuf

Write at the Merge, Week 43

 This week, we’re offering you a photo of falling leaves on a deck — it could be pine but really I just liked the photo — and the word “pine” itself.

Word count 246

Storm Brewing

 

 

“There’s a cold front coming in and there’s three pieces of oak in the wood bin. I thought you had a couple of cords of seasoned oak coming.” she said.

Dan looked at her and said, “It’ll be here in a day or two, nobody knew it was going to get this cold so soon.”

“Well I’m not going to freeze my ass off like I did last year!”

“We could snuggle to keep warm.” he said with a grin.

“That’s not going to do a damn thing for me while you’re off to work. I’m going to use some of that pine we have stockpiled.”

Dan’s grin faded.

“That pine is for emergencies, besides pine will creosote the chimney something terrible.”

“You don’t consider this an emergency?”

He just said, “We burn oak or nothing!”

Margaret reached down to the wood bin, grabbed the hatchet and headed toward Dan who shrank away. Dan knew better than to mess with her when she had that gleam in her eye, especially with that hatchet in her hand. He remembered what happened the last time. She went by him brandishing the hatchet and an evil smile. There were several minutes of hacking and swearing coming from the next room. Dan knew better than investigate. Moments later he saw Margaret come in with an armload of oak firewood.

“Where the hell did that come from?”

Margaret just glared at him, “It’s the first of the kitchen chairs.”

Trifecta's writing prompt 100

PHANTOM (noun)

1   a :  something apparent to sense but with no substantial existence :  APPARITION

     b :  something elusive or visionary

     c :  an object of continual dread or abhorrence <the phantom of disease and want>

2 :  something existing in appearance only

3 :  a representation of something abstract, ideal, or incorporeal <she was a phantom of delight — William Wordsworth>

Remember:

    Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.

    You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.

    The word itself needs to be included in your response.

    You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.

    Only one entry per writer.

    If your post doesn't meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz.

    Trifecta is open to everyone. Please join us.

- See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/

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I was four on 9/11/2001, that day has forever changed my life.  My parents both worked there the day the planes hit. I can’t even remember what they looked like; they're images are just phantoms that have gradually faded away like an old cash register receipt.

Aunt Eva got me; she’s nice and does her best, but she never had kids so we just kind of wing it. In the beginning I’d ask for mommy and daddy. I’ve been seeing a shrink ever since I can remember. They put me on some anti-depression meds when I was thirteen. I no longer felt depressed; in fact I didn’t really feel anything. I went through life on autopilot not caring about anything, just doing what was expected of me.

At sixteen I skipped school heading for the 9/11 memorial.  Standing among the long sheets of bronze, waterfalls and the setting sun, I still feel nothing. I’m off my meds; it’s nearly a month now; nobody notices but there’s clarity about things. My parent’s names are engraved here. I lay a hand on the cold bronze, gripping the box cutter with the other.

Such a small thing to cause so much destruction. The razor’s edge turns blood red  from the setting sun. The names will be lit up soon. I’d like to see that, if I’m still here. I flip my left hand over; my pulse throbs. My ears are filled with the sounds of the waterfalls, and the pounding of my heart. People walk by; a whiff of perfume and I think of my mom.  The cutter’s poised above my wrist. One fast, deep stroke. That’s all; that’s why I’m here. Still I feel nothing; I should feel something, maybe once it’s done.

An old man is, staring at me.

“Do it and you let those bastards win.” he says

I stare back for one long moment, dropping the cutter with a clatter, sinking to my knees and begin to bawl.

This is in response to this week's Trifextra 33 word challenge. What scares you?

What scares me is being in an accident that results in a coma; where you are fully conscious but can't respond to stimuli, living inside your head as your body slowly wastes away.

Trifecta: Week Ninety-Nine This is my second foray into the blogosphere with my entry for the challenge. I call it Casino Royale Revisited

I flew to northern France with nearly a million francs on deposit at a local branch of Credit-Suisse. I’d come to Royale-Les-Eaux to play Baccarat just like James Bond in Casino Royale. I roamed the casino looking for the Baccarat tables. Finally I had to ask one of the waitresses where they were. She had a most perplexed look on her face, so I proceeded to explain in my best high school French.
     Giggling she said, “Monsieur, now they only play Texas-Holdem.”
I’d be damned if I flew all the way from Dallas to France to play that game!

This post is for the Trifecta Weekend 33 words inspired by The Rolling Stones song Sympathy for the Devil

There is a bit of me in all of you.
Water the seeds of doubt I've planted,
with tears of despair and blood dripping from fresh wounds.
Nurture them and they will grow.

inspired by this classic song by The Rolling Stones - See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.anmaJydW.dpuf

inspired by this classic song by The Rolling Stones - See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.anmaJydW.dpuf

inspired by this classic song by The Rolling Stones - See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.anmaJydW.dpuf