tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post233427288015701438..comments2024-01-22T07:38:36.759-05:00Comments on Musings of Alissa Leonard: FINISH THAT THOUGHT #2-34lissajeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10530061516614280887noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-10441917532210569162015-02-26T09:23:39.901-05:002015-02-26T09:23:39.901-05:00lol great stuff xlol great stuff xSusanhttp://buddyor.tumblr.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-48004084896296975122015-02-26T09:22:05.211-05:002015-02-26T09:22:05.211-05:00great write xgreat write xSusanhttp://buddyor.tumblr.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-35349406790655064492015-02-26T09:20:33.290-05:002015-02-26T09:20:33.290-05:00lol foy true glad u liked xlol foy true glad u liked xSusanhttp://buddyor.tumblr.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-50194819287239142352015-02-25T19:25:14.143-05:002015-02-25T19:25:14.143-05:00Thank you, ladies! I appreciate that. I don't ...Thank you, ladies! I appreciate that. I don't usually pull off funny so I've decided to try and hone that area. :) Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-89418559804793657452015-02-25T19:22:51.574-05:002015-02-25T19:22:51.574-05:00Love this take! Who would seriously want to take l...Love this take! Who would seriously want to take lessons from their mother in pole dancing?? Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-25626022732422467242015-02-25T19:21:20.089-05:002015-02-25T19:21:20.089-05:00Clowns are the absolute worst!!! Creepy, creepy, c...Clowns are the absolute worst!!! Creepy, creepy, creepy! Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-60166726645811708032015-02-25T12:51:28.017-05:002015-02-25T12:51:28.017-05:00This one is a riot. Her internal dialogue is hilar...This one is a riot. Her internal dialogue is hilarious. I absolutely adore the figurative language this MC uses. I could read a whole novel in her voice.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04424693764769875196noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-56059077801287818742015-02-25T10:17:50.735-05:002015-02-25T10:17:50.735-05:00Hi Lauren glad you laughed cheers xHi Lauren glad you laughed cheers xSusanhttp://buddyor.tumblr.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-91629037301790489792015-02-25T09:01:48.417-05:002015-02-25T09:01:48.417-05:00"I can almost taste the cheese." So grea..."I can almost taste the cheese." So great!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-47596747551372110922015-02-25T09:00:53.980-05:002015-02-25T09:00:53.980-05:00Love this. l laughed so hard at the end!Love this. l laughed so hard at the end!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-79446761740619023092015-02-25T08:59:51.165-05:002015-02-25T08:59:51.165-05:00Thanks y'all! This is another one I may take f...Thanks y'all! This is another one I may take further. Had fun crafting it. Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-57560744450812843672015-02-25T08:34:33.414-05:002015-02-25T08:34:33.414-05:00lol very good much enjoyed xlol very good much enjoyed xSusanhttp://buddyor.tumblr.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-50592586152757250672015-02-25T07:41:54.222-05:002015-02-25T07:41:54.222-05:00Hi @susanoreilly3 (just so you know who i am becau...Hi @susanoreilly3 (just so you know who i am because my url? won't work lol great story xAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-64477192096613045782015-02-25T07:34:29.772-05:002015-02-25T07:34:29.772-05:00A "virgin desk plant." I love this. Terr...A "virgin desk plant." I love this. Terrific use of the prompt!Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17184492488741171810noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-61345466451724640752015-02-25T07:32:27.580-05:002015-02-25T07:32:27.580-05:00Love this. The sibling interaction is great!Love this. The sibling interaction is great!Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17184492488741171810noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-63101863780584095342015-02-25T06:59:42.690-05:002015-02-25T06:59:42.690-05:00Stella lovely write cheesy moon lol much enjoyed s...Stella lovely write cheesy moon lol much enjoyed still won't let me put in a url I'm such a technophobe Susan xAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-30873149077209088122015-02-25T06:47:43.754-05:002015-02-25T06:47:43.754-05:00Don't know how to put in my url Stella sorry b...Don't know how to put in my url Stella sorry but its Susan I'm glad it made you smile and thanks for reading xAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-50675480345809041452015-02-24T23:55:11.433-05:002015-02-24T23:55:11.433-05:00Foy
@db_foy
WC: 499
All challenges accepted. :)
...Foy<br />@db_foy<br /> WC: 499<br />All challenges accepted. :) <br /><br /><br />Bold Ergonomics<br /><br />- Excuse me, but what on earth are you doing up that thought-stream at this stage of the acquaintance?<br />- What? He’s got a nice butt, is all I’m saying.<br /><br />I watch as Mr. New-To-Office-Suite-354 bends over the parts and pieces that will soon be my replacement chair. Just a little strategy and a throw-on frazzled grin, and I’d reeled him in. <br /><br />- Well, you shouldn’t be. He seems like a nice man. Don’t objectify him.<br />- Maybe he’d like being objectified…”<br /><br />My inner ought to’ve-been-librarian won’t shut up. It’s like she wants to be a virgin desk plant for the rest of our spreadsheet and workbook days.<br /> <br />- He’s your coworker. It’s against the rules. <br />- It’s not like he’s going to know what I’m thinking. Damn…his arms look even better with the sleeves rolled up. Is it hot in here? <br /><br />Clark Kent glasses and legs long as winter nights by a fire with cocoa. He probably enjoys poetry and Chevre and wouldn’t mind sharing my one bedroom flat with three territorial cats and a snake. His eyebrows, tastefully bushy but not monstrous, push into a frown of concentration. The arm-thingy and back frame don’t appear to fit as well as we would strolling by a lake in Fall. <br /><br />“Here are the instructions if you’d like them…” I say offering a square of folded paper from my pocket right on cue. All eight languages might as well have been written in Klingon but when it had fallen from the packaging, I’d snatched it up. His fingers look like they could shame silk and when he brushes my hand, thanking me, I can hear the jealous screams of a thousand eclipsed silk worms echoing through my eardrums. He turns back to the plastic puzzle. <br /><br />- Stop it! You’re ogling him! <br />- He’s not even looking this way.<br /><br />“It’s so lucky you came by,” I say, leaning across my desk and hoping I’m pulling off a “Marilyn Monroe sprawled over a baby grand” look. A bit of my leg flashes white hot from under my skirt and I abandon the desk pose. Forgot to shave and none of my hose were clean this morning. I’ll have to try something else.<br /><br />- He probably has a wife and kids and a mortgage. Do you want to be a home wrecker?<br />- We don’t know that. Besides he smells like warm skin and cuddling.<br /> <br />The chair is coming together, a black phoenix rising from the ash of bubble wrap and cardboard box. Stupid phoenix. Couldn’t your rebirth take a little longer? The taste of our shared Chevre is dying before it can even materialize.<br /> <br />- Serves you right. Putting yourself out there like a hussy. He’s almost done. <br />- That’s it. No more from you. <br /><br />“I think that’s it.” He comments cheerfully and slides the chair under my desk. “Fits perfectly. Anything else I can help you with?” He turns and those summer blue eyes melt my insides. <br /><br /> “Go out with me?” <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-19928161044660607052015-02-24T23:29:39.324-05:002015-02-24T23:29:39.324-05:00Nighttime Troubles
“Excuse me, but what on Earth ...Nighttime Troubles<br /><br />“Excuse me, but what on Earth are you doing up that ceiling at this time of night?!”<br /><br />Peter froze, unable to move for a moment. He slowly turned his head to see his older sister, Jane, staring at him in disbelief. He blinked, wetting his lips nervously, trying to come up with a reply. The fact that she didn’t seem put off by the fact that he was, indeed, on the ceiling was a bit surprising. He would’ve thought that would be the first question to be asked. At least, that’s what he would have done, had the situation been reversed.<br /><br />“Peter, I asked you a question! Now answer me, or I’m telling Mom that you were up there tracking dirt all over the ceiling.” Jane stamped a foot impatiently.<br /><br />Peter sighed. How best to explain this to his sister? He’d merely been sitting in the office chair at the desk, playing a computer game since he couldn’t sleep and the next thing he knew he was just sort of…on the ceiling. This kind of thing didn’t normally happen to your average 8 year old on a regular basis, but for some reason, it did tend to happen to him far more often than he would like. Normally, it wasn’t quite this drastic, and could be glossed over, but when your 10 year old sister finds you hanging on the ceiling like a spider at 3 a.m., well it’s hard just pass it off. It wasn’t like the time he’d developed the eyesight of an eagle for about 24 hours, or experienced the hearing of a bat, or even like the time he’d had the ability to distinguish scent like a wolf. He had no idea why this had happened, but it had.<br /><br />“That’s it, I’m getting Mom!” Jane started for the door, but Peter called to her and she stopped, waiting.<br /><br />“The thing is, Janie….” He paused, unsure of himself, then continued. “The thing is, you’re sleepwalking again. Go back to bed. This is all a dream.” He waved his hands around as he’d seen a magician on television do once, then waited to see if he’d believe her. She squinted at him suspiciously, chewing her bottom lip. She was considering what he said. <br /><br />“Well…..alright,” she said drowsily “But if Mom catches you up there, you’re gonna get it.” With that, she turned on her heel and marched off. He heard her climbing the stairs back to her room and heaved a sigh of relief. Now to figure out how to get down AND why this was happening to him!<br /><br />433 Words {including title}<br />@Angelique_RiderRobinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10280447515916547772noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-47837537062195737262015-02-24T23:07:44.668-05:002015-02-24T23:07:44.668-05:00Awesome as always my friend!Awesome as always my friend!Robinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10280447515916547772noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-18712523651207667412015-02-24T23:06:58.433-05:002015-02-24T23:06:58.433-05:00I love this bit! Awesome!I love this bit! Awesome!Robinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10280447515916547772noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-87098311879880283952015-02-24T23:05:36.398-05:002015-02-24T23:05:36.398-05:00Ohhhh, that's just freaking creepy!!! Awesome...Ohhhh, that's just freaking creepy!!! Awesome read!!Robinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10280447515916547772noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-27364575054825706932015-02-24T23:02:35.109-05:002015-02-24T23:02:35.109-05:00Erg, this blog does not seem to like my WP account...Erg, this blog does not seem to like my WP account.<br /><br />Anyone obnoxious enough to write a note like that for someone else *almost* deserves whatever fate befalls them. That is some sinister fun, right there!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-17579038392189217522015-02-24T22:59:40.326-05:002015-02-24T22:59:40.326-05:00“Excuse me, but what on earth are you doing up tha...“Excuse me, but what on earth are you doing up that tree at this stupid hour?”<br /><br />It occurred to me I should make some type of response. Of course, how should a grown man, sitting on a tree branch 30 feet above the ground at three AM respond? I was of the opinion there was no good response to make.<br /><br />“Um. Reliving my childhood?”<br /><br />I knew from her facial expression, my wife was not happy with that answer, and I should give her a better answer before she took a saw to the tree trunk.<br /><br />“I needed to get outside.”<br /><br />“Like when you walk?”<br /><br />“I don’t really know, I just…” Sometimes it was hard to explain why I did anything I did. “I had to get outside. I couldn’t stay inside.”<br /><br />“You couldn’t take a walk? You’ve taken them before. At this time of day.”<br /><br />That was true. I’d left the house at three AM more than a few times in the past eight weeks. I’d taken walks that lasted two hours or more.<br /><br />“I didn’t want to scare you any more.”<br /><br />That was the truth, really. I knew she worried about me walking, especially before dawn. She worried if I’d come back, or if I’d end up dead by the side of the road somewhere, or mugged, and beaten, and left to die.<br /><br />“I figured if I stayed in the yard, you wouldn’t worry so much.”<br /><br />What else could I say? I knew it was nuts, sitting in a tree at 3 AM. Normal people didn’t do that. Normal people got up at five or six, then got ready for work. Normal people got in their cars, and drove to work. Normal people sat at their desks, or in their office cubes, and worked all day long.<br /><br />For eight weeks, I’d watched them. Every morning. I’d watched them drive to work. I’d watched her drive to work. And then I sat at home, feeling like everything was wrong and broken. Like I was. Broken.<br /><br />When I did things at stupid times, no one could see me. No one could watch. Everyone was asleep, and wouldn’t be thinking, “What’s he doing? Why isn’t he at work?”<br /><br />“So, you think climbing a tree at this time of day means I won’t worry?”<br /><br />“I’ll come down.”<br /><br />She shook her head. “No. Stay up there. Just let me know when you have to climb a tree.”<br /><br />“I’m OK. You know that. I’m OK.”<br /><br />“I know.” She waved at me, then went back inside.<br /><br />I’d have cried, really, I would have. But after eight weeks, I didn’t have any more tears. I knew she’d go back to bed, but she wouldn’t sleep. She’d worry about me. Even though I’d told her I was OK.<br /><br />I wanted to tell her I would be OK. But in that tree, 30 feet off the ground, at three AM, I knew I couldn’t, because I honestly wasn’t sure I’d ever would be.<br /><br />490 Words<br />@LurchMunsterAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2996679476368835656.post-27229987075769327442015-02-24T22:46:48.667-05:002015-02-24T22:46:48.667-05:00Shuddering over here! I don't have coulrophobi...Shuddering over here! I don't have coulrophobia, but I might have to reconsider after reading this. You sure do ramp up the creepiness. I like how the sense of smell calls into question the easy explanation of him just dreaming.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07053202834059395665noreply@blogger.com