Weekend Writing Warriors Blog Hop 07/13/14

Weekend Writing Warriors / #8sunday / 07/13/14
www.wewriwa.com

A weekly festival of writers sharing excerpts from their work.  

Many different genres; something for everybody. 

     Here is a passage from my unpublished young adult manuscript called BEING BENITO CARLEFFA. 

Ben was recently told that his mother had died.

∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫

I clenched Mom’s pin in my pocket––twisted, turned, and squeezed it tight enough to tear it in two, until the point jabbed my pinky. “No!” Yanking my hand out of my jeans, I sucked my stinging finger and gave it a rapid shake. Next, my hands covered my face and then worked their way to the top of my head where I clutched my hair in a firm grip. My heart pounded in my ears as I rocked forward and back continuously. “You’re lying.” I grit my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut to keep my tears inside. “Dammit!” I punched the door. “Why won’t you tell me the truth?” 

 ∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫∫

Yours: That's Succinctly Yours - The Old Chair

Grandma Goulash's Weekend Writer's Retreat

I've been challenged to write about this chair. Well, okay. I've written about sea shells, dragons, and dandruff, so surely I can come up with a word or two about a chair--from the chair's point of view. Why not?

What are you looking at? Oh, yeah. I forgot that I have gorgeous scenery out my window. Not that I ever get to look at it. Behind is my magic word. The sea is behind me. You think I ever get to hear the movement of the water or feel the wind against my velvet. All I get is a smelly behind on top of me, and these people aren't lightweights either. In fact, my velvet used to be yellow but I became so flustered from the fat gal, that I turned as orange as an Oompa Loompa. Yet I'm supposed to look pretty and pretend that I don't have the worst job in the house. 


Flush! Err, uh, correction--the second worst job in the house.

 

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