This was how he envisioned their meeting, their two worlds colliding and entwining, and his imagination took him to a more perfect beginning.
A smooth, unruffled shower of words issued from Claudio’s mouth. His voice rose and fell like a song, and Bett followed the rhythm of sound as Claudio elaborated with gestures like a bird caught in a storm, arms whirling and frantic. Surrounded by the din of a café full of afternoon patrons with school satchels and brief cases, Bett beamed an enthusiastic smile, and Claudio continued his one-sided conversation. Bett failed to understand what Claudio said. She only understood a few of the words he spoke, and his anger and urgency confused her. He wanted her to do something, but what she could only guess.
Claudio’s hand slammed down on the café table rattling the small spoons nestled against tiny cups and saucers like dollhouse china. Bett startled then quickly folded her hands in prayer and bowed her head in confusion. Claudio drew in a long breath, clearly exhausted from his exertions and reached for Bett’s folded hands. Resting his hand upon hers in a show of goodwill, Bett understood he had reach an ending to a tirade she could not comprehend. But the silence eroded good will, and Claudio withdrew his hand and began anew in a low monotone voice, pedantic, deliberate and drained of passion. But Bett still did not understand, and she shook her head back and forth, shrugging her shoulders. Claudio sighed and fell silent once more.
With resignation, Claudio gathered his brief case and overcoat. He stood looking down at Bett when she reached out for Claudio’s with both her hands and pulled him toward her. Bett stood close enough for Claudio to hear say, “Yes.” Bett did not know what she said yes to, but it made Claudio happy.
Mona’s fingers curved around the stone, a pestle ground smooth from another time and other uses. Substantial is what Mark would have said. Freighted with history, the weight of the stone surprised her.
If my mother thought about a third child before I was born, it wasn’t me she thought about. She liked to reminded me of this point in her less than beautiful moments as she slouched in her recliner, gathering the front of her bathrobe while taking a long draw on her cigarette. Ash peppered the front of her robe like tiny flecks of star-dust.
I knew the drill, so I waited for her to exhale like a dragon, smoke curling out of her nose and mouth, and I braced myself.
“You,” she shouted. “You girl, you.” I stood before her in my school uniform waiting. “You’re nothing but a product of your father’s drunken folly and my tortured indiscretion.” Then she would swing her arms around like a whirl-a-gig, wobbling a bit before falling back into the recliner, “God help me,” she would whisper. That was my cue to head for the kitchen to find some food. With three kids in four years, it was an uneven number for an uneven time in my mother’s life.
My mother was a widow less than six months to a husband nobody ever found on a military exercise still closed to the public before she mixed it up with my dad. Once, out of curiosity, my brother did a freedom of information act on his father only to receive a report in the mail with all the information he wanted to read blacked out. We don’t dwell on the topic for my mother’s sake. Nor do we talk about my father. We don’t talk anymore. Not now.
Doctor Brothers suggested I keep a journal to pass the time before my trial begins. I think it’s a good idea.
Sometimes I think I’d like to grow a garden. It’s the most beautiful thing you can do. I would take my daughter there and show her how to blow on a globe of dandelion seeds and together we would watch the seed sail away.
Week 64–The Trifecta challenge~The word this week is DWELL: a: to keep the attention directed —used with on or upon<tried not to dwell on my fears> b: to speak or write insistently —used with on or upon<reporters dwelling on the recent scandal> LINK UP HERE
The challenge from Trifecta this weekend, find a 33 word quote from your favorite piece(s) of literature, lends itself to an easy trolling for quotes without ever having read the author from whence the quote originated, so I picked an author whose quotes I’ve carried with me through out life, and whose books I’ve read and reread over the years. Unfortunately, my favorite quote did not meet the challenge rules.
My daughter and I are reading about the Civil War, and we just finished reading the Gettysburg Address ( A fine piece of writing.), so I offer the quote below because it goes with my thinking for the day.
“Because no battle is ever won,” he said. “They are not even fought. The field only reveals to man his own folly and despair, and victory is an illusion of philosophers and fools.”
-William Faulkner The Sound and the Fury
The Trifextra challenge this weekend is not so a much writing challenge; it’s more of a reading challenge. Scour your favorite pieces of literature and find 33 of the best words you can find and link up here.
Some quick guidelines to help with the task:
The writing you choose should not be your own.
The 33 words should be lifted directly from another source (i.e. don’t take 33 random words from Macbeth and shake them into a poem of your own (though that would be an awesome idea for another challenge) and don’t take a sentence from the beginning of a book and another from the end–keep the original order).
Credit your sources.
You can’t use the same 33 words as anyone else in the linkz. Skim through before posting your own. You can use the same author and even the same title, just not the exact same words.