Egg Shells

Write at the Merge, Week 13
The prompt from Cam: Week 13 (my lucky number!)

So, today, we took our son to Boston’s Museum of Science. His favorite part of the museum is the audiokinetic sculpture (or as my son calls it, the ball tower) on the lower level of the atrium, a piece called Archimedean Excogitation, by George Rhoads.

For this week, take your inspiration from this video of the sculpture in motion and from the word WONDER:

Seven year old Bree was shooed outside after she'd completed the simple chores assigned to her.

 "Go play a while, child, enjoy your days now.  In another year it will be time to teach you to weave. Then your time will be less your own."  Mama's smile held a hint of regret. Her fingers cramped and her back ached from long hours sitting at the loom.  "Be home for  midday meal."

With a hug for Mama and a promise to be home on time, Bree scampered outside. Her home nestled within a corner of the King's forest.  The day was breezily warm, as spring days often are.  Wild flowers beckoned butterflies and bees.  And Bree.

She gathered the prettiest and sweetest smelling for Mama as she
made her way to her favorite place. A small glade, not too far from home, where the tallest tree Bree had ever seen stood proudly in the center.

She lay on her back at the edge of the clearing watching the antics of three squirrels as they raced up, down, and around the old trunk.  From her vantage point, she could see a nest near the top.  Occasional flashes of red could be seen coming and going.

One squirrel chose to investigate. Bree saw its bushy tail over the nest's edge, twitching impishly.  An angry squawk and belligerent chitter erupted from the canopy. The squirrel popped out, a shiny egg captured in his little paws.

As he scurried along the limbs, Bree saw the red flash careen across the squirrel's path. Unbalanced, he fumbled his loot.

Bree watched the egg spin unsteadily on the limb a few moments before it dropped over the side. It fell a short distance to a leafy branch that broke its fall.  The leaves quivered under the weight, bowing to shed the interloper.

The squirrel's playmates, having intently watched the altercation, raced for the egg.  The quicker of the pair snatched it from the shaking fronds.  The slower snatched at her partner's tail as he spiralled down the trunk.

Red wings spread wide, the hostile parent confronted the new possessor, who wheeled back, and slammed into his partner. The egg began a free fall to the ground below.

Bree jumped up, bouquet forgotten, and ran to the tree. There were no more leafy branches to interrupt the fall. Two squirrels watched the egg's descent with curiosity. The first used the distraction to return to the nest, followed closely by the raging red flash.

Bree held out her hands and willed herself to not clutch too tightly when she caught the fragile orb.  She heard a small crunch as the egg landed in her hands. She waited, eyes tightly shut, afraid to look.

Movement surprised her eyes open as the shell parted with a crack.  She breathed an "oh" of wonder as the tiny scarlet lizard shed the remaining shards and spread its brand new wings in the palm of her hand.

Some Days

Our opening sentence this week is from "Emma Donoghue’s “Room“ 

The first sentence is:   Today I’m five.

Today I am five.

I am five today because I want to sleep beyond four am.

I want to get up late and play with my toys.

I want to play with my toys and my friends and their toys.

I want to watch cartoons and laugh hysterically for no reason.

I want to stomp my foot when I don’t get my way.

I want to stomp both feet when no one listens to me.

I want to say what I want without a filter.

I want…I want to throw a tantrum.

So, today, I will be five!

Every Other Year

Week 2, hot air balloons and Nirvana...





Keb eyed his wife warily as they stood on the ridge watching the balloons begin their journey across the canyon. 

Keb and Fen had shared a heartfelt hug, but Jaya had just nervously patted the six year old boy's head as she loaded him and his belongings into the basket.

"You be good for your next mamma and pappa, Fen.  Just as you were for us."  Polite words.  

The boy smiled and waved, too excited about the balloon ride to notice Jaya's apathy. Fen turned to face his destination.  This third trek across the rift was just the next step of his growing up.

"Maybe, this time, Golda will come back to us."  Jaya strained to see the balloons that were floating their direction, children waving as they passed each other mid way.

"Jaya, you know it's unlikely, the..."

"But it could happen! It has before."  Jaya looked at him with desperate hope.

Keb kept his thoughts within. Their self-born daughter had left after her second birthday, just as she was meant to.  Jaya had grieved herself into depression, barely attending to the toddler boy they'd received later that day.

He'd prayed for a girl child two years later, in hopes that Jaya would come around. Four year old Fen had turned out to be a perfect fit for him. Jaya played her role, barely.

"Look! The balloons have landed, Keb!"  Jaya shook with anxiety. "Go see, Keb, see if it's her."

Keb followed the chart at the landing area.  With a smile and hug he collected his next cycle child. A six year old girl.

They returned together to Jaya's post. Keb's joy turned to despair at Jaya's crestfallen face.  She recovered enough to run one caramel colored hand through the girls curls.

"What pretty blond hair you have."

everybody knows

You were all mine once. There was none could come between us. My eyes were for you and yours for me. Smiles and tears were shared with each other.  Our lives intertwined, our hearts beat as one.

Until.

You leave me for another.  Denial overflows my eyes as I watch you go.  I keep my pain within my heart and wish you well because I know.

Everybody knows.

This day.

Your tiny feet fill grownup shoes. Your little hand outgrows my own and reaches for another.

Everybody knows you'll place your heart in that other's hand, and walk away together.

Ye Olde Shoppe

This week, I offer you this photo.(the photo is a sky full of red, yellow, and blue umbrellas)

Go where ever it leads.

You have a generous 500 words.

The showroom was eerily quiet. She preferred shopping early to avoid being rushed and distracted from her quest, but this emptiness was unsettling.

She'd found the shop while surfing the web. Her favorite dealer had closed its doors for good shortly after her last purchase.  She should have upgraded several years ago, but she hated buying from strangers.

She wandered haphazardly from one model to another. They were all fairly similar. The only difference she could discern was in color.  And only three colors seemed to be available.  Primary colors.

She sighed audibly and cast her eyes over the display one more time. The blue was not the right shade for her eyes.  The yellow would be impossible to keep clean.  The red, well the red was just too risque. After all, one must keep up appearances.

She clutched her bag a bit closer and brushed a speck of barely visible dust from her long skirt. Habit made her pat the hat atop her tightly coiffed hair. Just as she turned toward the exit a voice called out.

"I'm so sorry Miss, I'd no idea anyone was here this early."  The salesman looked genuinely apologetic, flashing a hopeful smile. "Please, may I show you the new options we offer in our most popular models?"

"Options?  Really all I require is a smooth ride and low maintenance." She took another step toward the door. "And I was specifically looking for something in a dark grey, or at least midnight blue."

"Oh. I'm afraid we don't have anything darker than the red."  The young man looked around the showroom dejectedly.  His shoulders slumped as his eyes reassured him there was no other color than the bright primaries.

She looked at him a little closer.  He was very young. Not much older than some of her charges.

"How long have you been employed here...Peter?" She looked back to his face from his name tag.

"This is my first week. It's been very slow.  Not many looking for these anymore I guess."  He shrugged sadly.

She chuckled, "No, not many. But enough.  Alright, young man, show me those options."

His delighted grin lifted her earlier unease, "Oh, yes!  Right this way Miss..."

"Poppins, Mary Poppins."  She followed him back to the display.  Maybe that red wasn't so bad after all.

Game

The Prompt: Olympic athletes are showcasing their talents on a global stage, and we’d like you to choose your best event for this Friday’s link up. Choose one of the following prompts and come back to link up on Friday.

The 100 Meter Sprint

100 words on a conflict, competition, or game.

The Road Race

300 words on a topic of your choice. The only catch? Your setting must be London, Beijing, or Rio de Janeiro.

Synchronized Diving

Partner up with another Write on Edge writer. You each have 450 words to write about a conflict between two characters; each writer should represent a single character’s point of view.(I chose the 100 meter sprint.)

"One, two, three, four, five, sixseveneightnineten!
Here I come!" 


"Oh no, you found me!"


I found you...I win!"


"Yes, you win."


"Let's race!  I'm racing!  Catch me!
Did I win?"


"You win."


"Yay!  I win!"


"Run with me!
Play with me!
Your'e it...close your eyes!
Count!"


"I am, I am!
One , two ,three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten...ready or not, here I come!"


"Do you see me?"


"Yes, boy, I see you.
Ah ha!  I found you!
We win again!"


"Come on, Gramma!"


"Wait for me..."


"I love you Gramma."


"I love you too, Kiddo..."

I Miss...

This week’s prompt is to use this image for your inspiration and begin your post with those words…”I miss my childhood…”





I miss my childhood.
I miss sultry summer days with nothing to do but soak up sunshine and fresh air.
I miss laughing hysterically for no reason.
I miss sleeping soundly all night and waking up with energy to spare.
I miss snow days that meant staying indoors snug in a blanket.
I miss bumps and bruises that went away overnight.
I miss when tomorrow seemed to take forever to come.

I miss whole days spent playing outdoors with no worry of being abducted.
I miss not knowing how hard it is to choose between wants and needs.
I miss being clueless about hunger and poverty.
I miss never hearing about the terrible things people do to each other.

I miss the ignorance of innocence.

We Used to Sing

This week's memoir prompt asked you to dig deep to find what, from your childhood, you still know from heart.


"Chickery chick, cha-la, cha-la
Check-a-la romey in a bananika
Bollika, wollika, can't you see
Chickery chick is me?"

"Mairzy doats and dozy doats
And liddle lamzy divey
A kiddley divey too,
Wouldn't you?"

"Down in the meadow in a little bitty pool
Swam three baby fishies and a mama fishie too
"Swim" said the mama fishie, "Swim if you can"
And they swam and they swam right over the dam
Boop boop dit-tem dat-tem what-tem Chu!
Boop boop dit-tem dat-tem what-tem Chu!
Boop boop dit-tem dat-tem what-tem Chu!
And they swam and they swam right over the dam"

"I went to the Animal Fair
The birds and the beasts were there
The big baboon by the light of the moon
Was combing his auburn hair"

"Wintee Wee was painted on a saucer,
Song Fong Lo was on a fan.
Song Fong Lo, he came across her
On a dressing stand. 

Wee, please come with me,
And we'll go back to dreamy lotus land. 

You step off your saucer, I'll climb off my fan
And we'll go back to dreamy lotus land..."

These are songs my grandmother and my mother sang to us as we were growing up. 
We'd sing in the car on long trips. 
We'd start singing while playing cards. 

My grandmother had a very expressive face. During different songs, she'd roll her eyes or grin maniacally. 

My mother's version always had a swing or Big Band edge to them. 

Either way, I remember the words to them all. 

Except the last one. The words defy me to find them all. It's a sad love lost song. For Winty
Wee is made of china. She slips and falls from the dressing stand. 
(we had it wrong. Lyrics found: I posted them on RandomRants. The button is on the right.