Cleaning Day

Write at the Merge; Week 14

The Prompts:  This week, one of your offerings is the phrase “cellar door”. “Cellar door” is considered a perfectly euphonic phrase, some say the most beautiful in the English language.

I first heard it expressed as so in the film Donnie Darko, which led me to the following image for the other half of the prompt.

Mary worked the padlock free and pulled the cellar door open.  She'd put this off long enough.  Duke raced down the stairs, plumed tail waving, as she hunted for the light switch.

She could hear the dog snuffling below as she flipped the lights on and descended the wooden steps.  when she reached the floor, she saw Duke had made himself comfortable on an old blanket laying next to John's work table.

"You spent a lot of time down here with him, didn't you, boy."  Mary began sorting through the bits and pieces littering the table.  John had loved his model planes.  There were wings, wheels, and tiny rudders.  his tools had been miniature versions of  everyday tools.

From the floor beams that made up the ceiling hung dozens of completed models.  She gently tapped a propeller and set it spinning.

John had brought his son from his first marriage down here every other weekend until the boy had grown into a young man.  They'd spend hours together, John, the boy, and the dog.  Mary smiled sadly at the memory.  She knew she couldn't just throw everything out, John had taken such care with his hobby.

She pulled her cell phone from her back pocket, quickly tapping through her contacts, she hit dial.  John Junior's wife answered, Mary took a breath, "Hi, Elise?  This is Mary, John's step..."

"Mary!  Oh my gosh, how are you?  It's so good to hear from you!" Elise gushed, then Mary heard her muffled voice as she covered the phone, "Johnny, John!  It's Mary...yes, Mary!"

"Mary?  It's John, how are you doing?  I'm so sorry I haven't stopped by, I just..."

Mary finally spoke, "I'm doing okay, John.  And I understand, I never expected a visit."  She took a breath, "But, I could really use a favor right now."

"Of course, Mary, how can I help?"

"Well, I'm trying to clean up the cellar, and I honestly don't know what to do with your Dad's planes."  Mary continued, "I don't want to throw them out.  Are you interested in them, or know someone?"

"Wow, Dad's planes."  Johnny hesitated, "I would love to have them, but, Mary?"

She waited for the rebuff, "It's okay, if..."

"Mary, could Elise and the boys and I, if it's okay, all come over and help you with them?  The boys always loved playing with Duke.  He's doing okay, isn't he?"

Mary laughed, the first good laugh in more than a year. "Duke is doing great, and I would love for all of you to come by.  Any time."

Duke lay on the floor at her feet, one ear cocked, his tail thumping as though giving his approval.

Sacrificial Dance

Write at the Merge Week 8

This week’s prompt combines an Ayn Rand quote with an image of one of Edgar Degas’ famous ballerinas.

Remember, you can use either — or both — portions of the prompt in your response and your word limit is 500. Once you link up, check back Thursday to see what other members of the community submitted.

the quote:

It stands to reason that where there’s sacrifice, there’s someone collecting sacrificial offerings. Where there’s service, there’s someone being served. The man who speaks to you of sacrifice, speaks of slaves and masters. And intends to be the master.

—Ayn Rand

How bad is it that a ballerina led me to an entirely different kind of "dance"?  I don't know, but it did.  As for the quote, I think it's in there...



Jimmy laid forty dollars on the table in front of him. That's all he'd spend tonight. He hadn't planned on going, but it was payday and his buddies practically dragged him along.

"C'mon, dude!  You worked hard for that scratch, you gotta right to enjoy it."

"Yeah, but I promised Sheila, no more titty bars.  We need the cash for bills 'n food."

"You needa get some balls, Jimbo.  Tell 'Shrilla' get off her dead ass 'n get a job."

"Well, maybe for one beer."  He didn't bother explaining how hard Sheila worked at home.  Cleaning up after two kids running wild all day.  And trying to have supper ready for him when he came home.  

Besides, what could be wrong with having one beer with his friends.

A couple of shots of Jack later, and well into the second pitcher of Miller's, Jimmy decided, not for the first time, he agreed wholeheartedly with his "buds".

He pulled a fourth twenty from his pay envelope and caught the closest waitress to change it for ones.  He'd tucked more than he remembered into one or another g-string.  And the show wasn't over yet.  Maybe that hot bitch with the shiny, black hair down to her ass would be back.


It was after midnight when he lurched to his car. Somewhere in his stupor he knew he'd blown half his check on booze and lap dances.  Sheila would be pissed. They'd have another fight, the kids would wake up crying. 
"Shit." He rubbed his hands over his face, then started the fuzzy ride home.

The house was dark, Sheila must've given up waiting for him and gone to bed. That meant the argument would start first thing in the morning. "Shit."

He fumbled his key into the lock and shuffled as quietly as possible to the kitchen.  Maybe, she'd left a plate for him in the fridge.

The back door popped open and the kitchen light blazed, causing him to whack his head inside the refrigerator.
He swung around to see his wife standing just inside the door.

"What the hell, Sheil! I thought you were in bed."

"Yeah?  And I thought you were gonna give up titty bars. Guess we were both wrong, huh."

"So, where the hell you been?  Where're the kids?"

"Kids are at my mom's.  I got a job."

"What job got you workin' this late? I don't want you workin' some gas station!  It ain't safe!"

"Oh, no, not a gas station."  She pulled several rolls of ones out of her purse.  "Look familiar, Jimbo?"

Jimmy's eyes flickered between anger and shame.  "Where..."

Sheila smirked as she stuffed the bills back into her purse.  "You won't bring home your money, I will."

"And, here, brush this out for me, will ya."  She tossed a long haired, black wig over his shoulder. "I know you like it."

Beneath the Surface

 Jumping feet first into my first Trifextra Weekend Challenge



Upon digging through the shuffle of excuses for why not

Delving under the sludge of more important things to do

At the center lay the truth of inaction by procrastination

Fear of imperfection




The weekend challenge.  As you'll recall from your elementary science class days, the structure of the earth can be divided most simply into three sections: core, mantle, crust.  Here's a diagram.
Give us 33 words from it.  Interpret the prompt however you wish--literal, metaphorical, or somewhere in between

Image courtesy of Danilo Rizzuti / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

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