Rune

Thanks again, Nylecoj for choosing me!

Word count this time is a strict 105.

Mundane
Ambivalent
Plethora
Spoon
Quack
Tremble
Pamphlet
Again
Yesterday
Cuddl e

Can't wait to see what you all come up with.

midnightpoet

Oh, my goodness. I sign out Rune's name and sign in mine, and then post something and it goes back to Rune...sorry again, that's me...

Arw65

it does that when i'm at my mothers too!- i found that if i open a different kind of browser it works- mom is usually logged in through Internet Explorer, so i just open MozillaFirefox and it works.

Arw65

Stroke

Squeezing the pamphlet into a crumpled wad I broke down again, memories flooding back.

“Stop being so ambivalent! Tell me what you want!”
“I don’t know”
Travis was trembling.
“I want another mundane day, to cuddle” I whispered
I thought he was angry or upset. Then he dropped the spoon, and collapsed, the tremble gave way to spasms, then stillness.

Yesterday Dr Rush, the Quack man had me come in to discuss my options.

“You have a plethora of choices, but having Travis stay in the hospital…, your insurance won’t cover him anymore and nursing homes can give the care he needs without the cost.”

Arw65

wow, it's hard to do one with so few words... oh well i hope you enjoy it.

midnightpoet

Arw, I love it...there's so much left untold, but the situation is so clear, and so sad.

midnightpoet

"On the Edge"

All my life, I've been ambivalent.

Now, I stand here on the edge of this cliff, trembling as I contemplate ending my mundane life.

They gave me a pamphlet. It mentioned numbers to call. But I know all those shrinks are quacks. They tried to lock me up yesterday.

I have a plethora of reasons to do it, and many reasons not to.

I wonder if I should gouge my eyeballs out with a spoon, so I can't see the ground rushing towards me.

I take a step closer, and suddenly you're there, pulling me close to cuddle.

Thank you for saving my life, again.

jarchica4

Wow..... Arw that was really good for just 105 words... A very short but accurate look into the dificulty in saying good-bye...

Midnight.... I love the ending... It's amazing how much we impact each other's lives without even knowing it.

midnightpoet

Her voice trembled as she said “I do.”

Yesterday she was just a Miss, and now she was his Mrs. Her future was secured and unsure, but she was not ambivalent.

He carried her into their hotel room after the plethora of guests had received their goodbyes. On the end table was a pamphlet about birth control. Her mother had obviously dropped by.

He kissed her nose and she giggled. She felt like it was their first time again. Hopefully, he wouldn't quack at her this time.

That night, they only ended up cuddling, their bodies spooned together, but it was far from mundane.

giraffe

105 without title

Rotting Plague

The pamphlet read "Jones is a quack". I was handed it a week ago and then again yesterday. The first time I considered it an ambivolent piece of propoganda. There's been a plethora recently.

This time it made my hand tremble when he handed it to me on that street corner. Dr. Jones was the one who spoon fed me medicine and even cuddled me when I was a sickly child.

Now that my illness was worsening, I didn't consider it mundane. The firey feeling in my spine was getting worse and I was about to transform into a monster again.

God help us all.

giraffe

65, Midnight, This is a real hard one. Good work.

giraffe

105 without title

THE DIVORCE

Yesterday he wanted to cuddle with me and I acted ambivolent. Again this mundane relationship has made me tremble with boredom. His plethora of glamorous friends is really making me yawn.

Everyone knows me as a very strong woman - one who won't 'quack on demand' or shut up when ordered to. It's his insisting, insulting presence that forced me to take this action.

"I found the pamphlet, Bob!!" I screamed. "The one about venerial disease!! Who've you been playing spoons with??!!"

He just looked at me with such a smug grin that I pulled out a knife and killed him.

"Don't mess with your bitch."

matthew

Jesi,

I wish to employ your help... I plan to do an extensive monologue at church this Christmas... Only problem is, I have yet to write it... With your writing & thespian skills, I was hoping you might enjoy helping me since I am currently working a ridiculous amount of hours...

The rough outline of the story will be based on an angel telling the story of the happenings surrounding the time of Christ from conception to birth. Doing so from an eye witness point of view & touching on the old testament prophecies that were fulfilled with each happening...

Jeannie is going to gather the cross reference chapter & verse info so you would need to work with her if you accept this mission...

This message will self destruct in... ***POOF***

matthew

The monologues I've done in the past have been tear jerkers. I want this angel to have a "normal guy" type of personality with a little mix of humor... He can even have one of the angel roles spoken of. IE: the angel that visited Mary or Joseph or shepherds and still have watched as the other happenings transpired...

I can bounce ideas around with you, but would love you to be the author...

giraffe

Hey, Matty. How bout the guy who cleans up the poop in the barn? Most manger scenes have the donkey and other critters.

matthew

Funny...good idea... the wife and I were just discussing how the manger of Christ's birth must have smelled! However, a shepherd or stablehand would not have first-person accounts of other events... thus an angel persona has been chosen to deliver the monologue.

midnightpoet

Daddy, I would love to help you...I'm honored that you asked...you know how to get a hold of me and we can bounce ideas back and forth and I can start coming up with something.

Nylecoj

105, without the title

Hidden Tears

She wasn't going to cry. Any mundane person would cry, but not her, not in front of her friends, even if they were quacks, fakes, empty as pamphlets that had been left to fade in the rain. They all said she was wishy washy, but she was not ambivalent about this. They could spoon a plethora of insults, however subtle, at her all day, but she would not cry. Trembling, she sat smiling, hiding the pain. All she wanted was someone to cuddle, to cry with, but there was no one there. It happened yesterday, it happened today, and it would happen again tomorrow.

Nylecoj

and another 105, without title

Goodbye

He spooned earth into the hole, the grave. A plethora of memories flooded his mind, he remembered them like they had happened yesterday, everything from the most mundane look, to the fantastic cuddles and kisses.
Slowly he pulled out a pamphlet. It was an add for a cruise some quack had sent him on for a disease that didn't exist, but on that cruise they had met. He held it out in a trembling hand, ambivalent he finally dropped it. It fluttered down into the grave, what did it matter? The memories only hurt. Tears sprang to his eyes, he would never see her again.

giraffe

Jozz. Very cool stories. It looks like we're all writing two in a row without sequels. It's a good challenge.

Matty, I was joking about the pooper scooper guy but it was funny, eh? Good luck on your project.