Blowing Bubbles

/>Write at the Merge, Week 11
Two photos this week for you to reflect upon:(I chose this one.)



Trifecta Challenge; Week Sixty-eight

Congratulations to the weekend's winners, and on to the weekly prompt.
TIME (noun)

1a : the measured or measurable period during which an action, process, or condition exists or continues : duration
 b : a nonspatial continuum that is measured in terms of events which succeed one another from past through present to future
 c : leisure <time for reading>
2: the point or period when something occurs : occasion
3a : an appointed, fixed, or customary moment or hour for something to happen, begin, or end <arrived ahead of time>
b : an opportune or suitable moment <decided it was time to retire> —often used in the phrase about time <about time for a change>

Please 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. 

The children squealed in delight.  Bubbles!   Hundreds of bubbles.  Iridescent globes, dancing through the forest on the whim of gust and breeze.

They chased the fragile spheres, shrieking in glee.  Bubbles hung from branches, flashing with reflections of leaf and bough.  They caught in the undergrowth, where little hands tried to capture them whole.

At the far side of the forest, the ground rose through gentle foothills to the mountains beyond. She perched on a sunny outcrop watching the forest edge, puffs of smoke curling from her nostrils with each breath. Her wings folded in readiness against golden scales. 

"Is it time for lunch yet, Mama?"

She flicked her gaze toward her dragonet, still marvelling at the strange emissions flowing from her tiny throat.

"Not yet, Baby, let them get clear of the trees."

All That Glitters...

Trifecta: Week Sixty-one
This week's word is:

BITCH (noun)

1: the female of the dog or some other carnivorous mammals
2 a : a lewd or immoral woman
   b : a malicious, spiteful, or overbearing woman —sometimes used as a generalized term of abuse
3: something that is extremely difficult, objectionable, or unpleasant

Please 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. 

"What in the name of God have you done?"

My sister, Abby, and I jumped at Aunt Lyds' screech, sending a cloud of pink and purple sparkles shimmering into the air.

"Shit," I muttered as I tried to contain the iridescent dust settling over the table.

"What just came out of your mouth, Christine Diane!"  Great Aunt Lyds screeched again. 

"Nothing, Aunt Lyds."  I rolled my eyes, hoping she didn't catch that.  "I'm just helping Abby decorate some Valentine's card with glitter."

"Glitter?"  She sneered.  "Demon spawn!  That's what it is!"

"Wha..." Thankfully, Mom came to see what the ruckus was.

"Lydia, what are you doing our of your room?  Stop scaring the girls with your nonsense."  Mom took her Aunt's arm and gently led her back to her room.  "Christine, you girls clean up now.  It's almost dinner time."  She called over her shoulder.

Abby and I got busy brushing the stray glitter into the trash can.  I knew what Aunt Lyds meant, getting all that stuff cleaned up was a bitch.

At least I thought I knew.  

Aunt Lyds stopped coming out of her room a few days later.

"I warned you!" She hollered almost hourly in her usual screech, "Demon spawn!"

That's when I started to notice.  First, a small winking pink line began to creep out of the seam where the halves of the dining table met.

Then, a pink sparkle oozed from between the couch cushions.

One morning, Abby started screaming hysterically at breakfast.  Her oaten O's were dotted in glitter.  At that moment, the cat raced by yowling in panic.  A stream of glowing purple dust trailing behind her.

"Mom? Mom!  I think we have a problem!"

"What problem, honey?" she called from the kitchen.

"The glitter, Mom, it's everywhere!"

"Don't be silly, honey," She came up behind me as I turned and watched her pink glittered nails fussing with her purple glittered hair. "It's only glitter."  She smiled through shiny, glittery teeth.