Trifecta Challenge

Survive
3: to continue to function or prosper despite : withstand

“She’s just a puppy, just a puppy,” I mutter under my breath, this New Year’s mantra.
A Jekyll and Hyde puppy I think to myself.
Her list of offenses is long; potty on the rug, eats hats and gloves, snacks on used tissues, whines in the night, runs through the house like a deranged hyena on speed, barks at blenders and pendulum clocks, and on and on and on.
She is cute though, with her pretty face and “Bunny” nickname.  She is getting good at leash walking and lets us grab her toys from her mouth and her bowl from her while she eats.
“Drop it!” I yell, as I open her mouth and remove my shiny new black patent leather high heal.
“She’s just a puppy,” I mutter yet again, “I will survive the puppy years,” I say, still muttering and tossing my shoe in the trash, “even if my shoes don’t.”

Death

Trifecta Challenge

This week's word is:

DEATH
1a : a permanent cessation of all vital functions : the end of life
  b : an instance of dying
2a : the cause or occasion of loss of life
  b : a cause of ruin
3 capitalized : the destroyer of life represented usually as a skeleton with a scythe

Mwahahaha.  Have fun.

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.




Death rolled over in his coffin, stretched and glanced at his alarm clock.  In a second he was yelling, “Damn death touch, killed the battery in my alarm clock again!  Now I’m late and Satan is going to be pissed!  Ugh.”
He threw on his cloak and took a quick swig of mouth wash.  Death was swishing it around in his mouth as he flew down the stairs.  In the kitchen he spit it out, hoping that it at least took the edge off his morning death breath.
On his way out to his car, Death grabbed a banana, he wanted coffee, but when he made the coffee the night before his touch had rendered the machine dead and useless.  As he juggled the banana from hand to hand, reaching for his car keys, it crumbled to dust and blew away.
Cursing under his breath, Death got into his car.
“I just have to get to the office before Satan does his rounds and pick up my list,” he muttered to himself, “I can’t be late again or I’ll get the ax.”
He turned the key and nothing.
“Argh!” Death yelled, “stupid touch of death, now the car battery is dead, damn it, damn it, damn it!”
Death stormed back into the house, just in time to hear the phone ringing.  He used his scythe to flip the receiver off and push the speaker button.
“What?” Death growled.
“Seriously Death, you’re not here again?  This is a simple job.  Pick up the list and kill the people by the end of the day.  You have had too many chances already.  You’re fired,” said Satan.
“But Satan, sir, I can explain,” begged Death.
“No.  You’re dead to me,” declared Satan and he hung up.

Uneasy

Trifecta Challenge

UNEASY
1: causing physical or mental discomfort
2: not easy : difficult
3: marked by lack of ease : awkward, embarrassed

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.

Have fun!

This week's word is uneasy.

For days in her mind, she played the moment.  Beverly knew it was coming.  It was only a matter of time before their paths crossed again and she wanted to be ready, or at least as ready as she could be.

Stanly had come crawling back to her, all shame filled and teary, after he thought he had been caught.  Beverly really hadn't caught him at anything, but his guilt was enough to push him over into confession. 

“It’s over.  I swear.  I’ll never see Charlene again.  I promise.  Please, please forgive me,” he pleaded pathetically.

Beverly turned away and waved her hand loosely at him, signaling that things would be okay.  He followed her across the room and sat silently in her chair.  She wrapped the paper around his neck, then fastened the cape.  Stanley was her last cut of the day.  

Just as she was trimming him at the base of his head, Charlene came in and began prepping her station.  She had been hired away from the competition a few days ago and given the chair next to Beverly.

The women exchanged a cold hello, while Stanley looked from Beverly to Charlene and back again in uneasy desperation.

He suddenly rose from the chair and pulled the cape off before Beverly could even finish.  He started mumbling and stammering and throwing down cash.  Stanley turned and looked at them both once more before bolting out the door.

As the chimes rang from the closing door, Beverly divided the money between herself and Charlene and said with an evil laugh, “Nice cut.”

While they were laughing, the bells rang again; together they looked up to see their next cut.

Blind Spot

...Trifecta Challenge

She flew out the front door, shrieking and arms flailing.  Inside her car, flying through the burbs, she was still screaming out her blind rage.  They should just listen to her and do what she tells them to do.
She never saw the cement truck.
Lying, silenced by tubes, in a hospital bed, she was alone.  There was nothing for her to do, but think over the tumult of her life, steadily cultivating a bitter gnawing anger.
By the time the tubes were coming out, she was on a steady diet of hate.  She had lists of how and why she loathed each and every person in her life.
There were the casual acquaintances that had somehow slighted her with words or actions.  She had her husband that failed moment after moment to rise up to her unspoken whims.  There were those she once called friends but they had let her down when they failed her drama demands.  Churches just simply never came close to measuring up.  The children’s teachers and coaches were unorganized incompetents.  The children themselves gave her nothing but fleeting seconds of near pleasure or happiness.  Her office simply couldn’t function if she wasn’t there.
Able to sit up now, she flipped through the paper, reeling at all the stupid people and their bad behavior.  Tossing it down on the bed, she noticed the date.
According to the paper, she had been lying in this bed for weeks, not hours.
No one had been to see her or called to get the schedules and instructions from her to keep her life running. How could they possibly know what to do or where to go without her?
This was a classic example of how they couldn’t do anything without her, she thought, growling and dialing her office, and where was that damn doctor, he had only just shook his head at her when she demanded to be released.

Jasmine

In response to the Trifecta challenge:

The evening mist wrapped a damp chill around her as she strode across the parking lot.  An inky sky lay heavy on the cars waiting under the low lights.  She held the key tight in her fingers and fought the shiver building in the pit of her stomach.  Jasmine concentrated on getting to her car without looking either way and pushed the thoughts from her head. 

The only safe way to get past them was to walk steadily, driven and mechanical to her car and get in.  It wasn’t that long ago she made the mistake of glancing sideways and once she dared to look at the sky, but never, never again.  The price was too high.

Fingers clenched around the key, she unlocked the door.  In a single swift motion the door was open and Jasmine was inside with the door closed and locked again.  It was only then that she let her breath out.  She had the car in drive before she even had her seatbelt on.  Once she was driving on the road, she felt safer, but the thoughts began to crowd her mind again.

Why?  Why had she worn this stupid dress today?  Jasmine loved and hated how she looked in it and early this morning had left the complex wearing it with a certain scent of despair.  She knew that in days gone by, a life she could barely remember, she would have reveled in wearing this dress.  The simple color and style, the way it snugged close against her ample curves made men turn their heads and women glance under their lashes.  She knew.  She felt it.

Now it was different though.  It was scandalous.  The fact that she still even possessed a throwback could have easily cost her the safety she was allowed as one of the precious few. 

It was over for her now.  She knew the moment she saw the car behind her.  Not even being one of the precious few would save her.

Discovery

I've been dragging along today, scratching around trying to find where all my words and thoughts and ambition have gone, when I came across this: Trifecta.

I do believe I'll be giving this a go-round or three just because I can.

They have some get to know you questions as a lead in and they are good questions so I'll go ahead and leave them here for you today.  Look for the challenge piece in the next day or so.

1. What is your name (real or otherwise)? In real life I am known as Jen.  Online I am often known as HeyMom.
2. Describe your writing style in three words. Challenged.  Eclectic.  Spontaneous. 
3. How long have you been writing online? I've been online in one blog or another since the early to mid-90's.
4. Which, if any, other writing challenges do you participate in? I like to do the NaNoBloMo for the discipline of daily writing and I have done the NaNoWriMo for the last 2 years.
5. Describe one way in which you could improve your writing. Don't stop at a first draft and walk away.  Almost everything I put down is instantaneous with little or no editing or revision.
6. What is the best writing advice you’ve ever been given? Don't stop.
7. Who is your favorite author? Just one?  There are so many for so many different reasons.  Lessing.  Cornwell.  Rushdi.  Follett.  Kingsolver.  Woolf. 
8. How do you make time to write? I let the laundry and dishes pile up.  I ignore all the phone calls and paperwork I should be doing and sit face to screen, fingers on keys.
9. Give us one word we should consider using as a prompt. Remember--it must have a third definition.  Authentic
10. Direct us to one blog post of yours that we shouldn't miss reading.  Again with the just one, huh? These aren't pretty stories, but they are slices of my real life and some of my better words in the last few months.  Dear Educator , Go Ahead, Make Sense Out Of This, and My Dreams.

In the end, here, I've "broken" the rules.  I've gone ahead and written what I wrote my way.  I've stumbled back through this blog to see some of the life I've written about.  Maybe all I've learned in all the years I've been writing is that if you aren't living a life, there isn't any thing to write about.