I love Professor SAM. In part because we talk about things outside of class like tattoo designs. I love her, and not just in an effort to snag a 4.0 for the semester. I love Professor SAM, and would invite you all to play along with her thought-provoking Master Class prompt. Think writing 100 words or so about a picture is challenging? Try making someone else’s words your own, without a hiccup in your story, and see if you’re not hooked almost immediately!
And no, I’ve no earthly idea how it was that these two prompts seemed like such a natural fit to me…
Copyright – Jennifer Pendergast
Such big, beautiful eyes!
Such a full body!
Such sweet sin awaiting, should she take notice of me.
Mmmm, the way those wings shimmer…
I make my way over.
Cautiously, as not to frighten, “Ummm, hello…?”
A question or a statement? Don’t be a fool – make your play, man!
Too much. Still, she smiles while looking over.
I sense the stirrings, faint but unmistakable, of an afternoon delight.
Slowly she swivels closer.
Close enough to realize that I’m not “like” her. No, not enough.
Watching her hurriedly fly off, my pride’s stung as I wonder – when will this ridiculous belief that bee can’t hive with wasp ever be squashed?
This week’s sentence prompt came from page 55 of the 5th book in on my shelf (it’s a church pew actually), 5th line down: Jean Shepherd’s “A Christmas Story.” And while not exactly in keeping with the motif of the remainder of the post, I’m ending today with the song below, partially because I couldn’t find “Waspy” by The Bolshoi, and partially because – quite honestly – when will I ever even come this close to having a tie-in for it again?
Since it’s a new exercise for me, I used the opportunity to go just a hair to the left of my normal comfort zone (the prompt is “Down,” and I opted for an emotional direction instead of a physical one). Please be advised, the following deals with a subject matter that some might find distasteful.
As always, please let me know your thoughts and critiques, and please visit the FTP link above to read more entries.
Welcome to “Flash in the Pan”
Defeated, the ropes dangled from the bedpost. Ignored by the wrists that could not be constrained by them alone.
The lotions, the collar, the paddle – all sat idly nearby, achingly unused. Desolate.
The body, naked and shivering, laid curled up fetal, dead center of the bed. In appearance much more deceased than alive, sans the singular tear, slowly jogging its way down the cheek, to the bridge of an unkissed lip.
Kept from contentment, this had given up on ever being touched in that way again.
Down for so long, the owner of this body hoped for it no more.