THINKing

askew, bullyrag, chicken snake, crosse, despot, distention

subject word – moleskin

Jamie picked up his moleskin cap from the hook in the mudroom as he headed out the back door.  It was early, but he had to collect the eggs and milk the cow before he met his friends for practice.  He trudged through the wet grass to the coop, grabbing his crosse from the dooryard where he’d left it the day before.  As he neared the gate of chicken wire he head the hens clucking uneasily.  Where was the rooster?  He was usually strutting around by now, pecking at the weeds for his breakfast.  Jamie unhooked the latch and made his way across the pen and into the coop.  The clucking was louder and more frantic now.  Stepping in, he saw the cause of the fuss.  A large, black chicken snake was bullyragging the hens, even though his belly was already distended, Jamie guessed, with the rooster.

The snake had curled up in a corner when he came in, so Jamie decided to ignore it and collect the eggs, trying to calm the hens as he went.  He placed the eggs carefully in the head of his crosse.  As he neared the end of the coop where the snake lay, he gave it a kick.  It reared up and hissed at him like a threatened despot, his gut too full with the rooster to allow his swift escape.  Jamie, not willing to leave the snake in the house with the hens, prodded him again, this time with the stick end of his crosse, careful not to dislodge any eggs.  The snake struck, and Jamie jumped back.  In the space he had left the snake slithered slowly out the door.  Jamie straightened his moleskin cap, knocked askew in the skirmish, and hurried to the house, one chore finished.

The Maturation of Amazon Dolphins

The community of Amazon Dolphins off the coast of
Argentina was astir. They swam
gracefully through the water, playing and calling to each other, full of life.
They were not predated upon; they were undisturbed, safe, and happy. The Amazon
Dolphins were beloved to the human residing on the beautiful Argentinean coast.
The Amazon Dolphins were important to the tourism industry, for cruises were
run hourly into the places where the most active dolphins could be seen. And
all was well. However, in Brazil, there was a chemical plant that manufactured
products for science laboratories. In this plant, barbituric acid was made. Barbituric acid is a white, odorless
powder that is soluble in water and highly dangerous to dolphins. This chemical
plant had produced too much of the acid and they were not aware of the dangers
it posed to dolphins. Rashly, they poured two tons of barbituric acid into the
Atlantic Ocean, directly into the area most densely populated by dolphins.

            The
barbituric acid was not dangerous in a typical way. It was not life
threatening; it didn’t seem to physically affect the dolphins at all. However,
when they ingested the powder, the normally happy and playful dolphins became bloodthirsty brats. They fought,
refused to perform their tricks in front of humans, and, as they matured, they
became downright barbaric, slaughtering their young or refusing to nurse and
protect the vulnerable youth. The tourism industry that had been built upon the
existence of the dolphins was wrecked, for the dolphins’ erratic behavior was traumatizing
to young children. An industry that had been building and growing rapidly was
no longer buildable, due to
unhealthy levels of barbituric acid and an irresponsible chemical plant

Oh yes, subject was longing.

Subject: Brass

Snow, shifting, parity, justification, scatter, loan

“You gamblers hate snow,”
Publius said. He rocked forward, shifting
his weight to pull a bearskin tighter around his shoulders. “It creates parity in otherwise lopsided battles. A nimble runt can pick a
hulking warrior like Decimus here apart.”

“Then Decimus hates the snow even more than we gamblers,” Quintus
chortled. Decimus stood in the corner of the room. His bare chest and arms
rippled and shined, glazed with drying blood – some his, mostly others’.

“Indeed, Decimus hates,” Publius said, his black crow-footed eyes fixed
into Quintus’. “His hate is justification
for his existence; the foundation of all of his proficiencies.” Quintus’ breath
cracked into a cough, causing spittle and steam to scatter.

Publius wiped his cheek, “Today, Quintus, being both a gambler and a
fool, you bet on the snow.”

“As you said, a quick man – “

“But all the quick men in your town’s stable lie in a smoldering, dismembered
heap.”

Quintus swallowed deeply, composing himself. “I have two daughters. One is
a child, but they will both serve you. Their value is beyond my debt.”

“I have a beautiful young bride in Rome who shames both of those pigs.
Why do you think I’m so anxious to get home? There will be no barter, no loan. You will give me your brass, or
Decimus will push his through your heart.”

Decimus grinned and Quintus shuddered. He had spent all of his coin buying
the gladiators now burning on a pyre.

“The daughters are yours,” Publius told Decimus.

          Most curious thing about antiquary was that it wasn’t cheap.
Alice didn’t know why she went into the store if all she had was a few pennies
in her pocket. The store looked awfully blockish
and not very antique-like from the outside, but as she took steps into it she
found the fragrant smell of old wood comfortable. She passed by a picture of a
a few men playing baseball. The batter was obviously getting a bean-ball, an intentional pitch to the
head. Alice found the pitcher, who was not included in the picture, quite rude.

          Many antiques stood on the old wooden
tables, none of which Alice could afford. Alice began to call up the pennies from her left pocket again; only six pennies.
Beautiful old Chinese vases stood on
the shelves by the window, and old sketches using centavos littered the ground
by the shelves. Centavo, a momentary
unit in Brazil, Mexico, and Portugal equal to one hundredth of the basic unit.
Alice got a dictionary for Christmas last year and was reading up. Centavos
weren’t very interesting.

          “Excuse me, can I help you?” a voice
boomed from behind Alice startling her.

          “Oh no sir, I don’t have any money
except these few pennies,” Alice said holding out the six pennies in her hand
to show the old man.

          “Dear child, this is a store for pennyworth
antiques,” the old main said smiling. “Each of those pennies can get you an
antique.” Alice’s face lit up.

          “Thank you!”

Little over 250 words and not sure if everythings completly right but oh well  I tried.

Subject:Juvenile Delinquent
words: Behold, Innocent, Appointment, Collective, Game, Swap.

The door clicks open. Announcing that
my appointment is here. Behold her long blonde curls as she enters
the room. As she slips into her seat I take her in. Her porcelain
skin, fragile frame and big blue eyes all translate to one thing,
innocent. But I know she is anything but.

Her delicate hands twirl a ring through
her fingers. The same hands used to take a life. To draw the last
heart beat from someone’s body. Without remorse. She glides through
my questions with polite smiles and detailed answers. The door clicks
open. Summoning her to leave. As I watch the last glimpse of blonde
curls, I am speechless.

This girl, this innocent girl. Now
crowds my fears. Everything about her sits in my collective of notes
untouched on my desk. Unneeded to be re-read as every detail is
already etched in my brain. Because to this girl murder is not a
vicious act. But a mere game. A game in which a life is swapped for
the thrill of watching someone’s last breath escape. A game this girl
invented to win.

“The punishment best suited for this
offender is death by lethal injection, when she is of age.” My
voice falters. Her blue eyes staring up at mine as I sign away her
life. Piercing my thoughts. As we watch each other a slight smile
creeps across her face. A smile I do not understand. A smile of
pride.

As I leave the room she grabs my arm.
Locking me. Her soft lips grace my ears as she gently whispers in my
ear. I only just catch her words as she is whisked away. Only I wish
I hadn’t, as now I can never let them go.

“You won the game.”
 

Subject word: Medalist
application, bumptious, chip in, darn, disquiet, east

It seemed like only yesterday I was filling out the
application to try out for the team, and today I was standing on the podium, a
medalist in my first meet of the season. My coach seemed surprised, since I
never really tried at practices. He had made a deal that if I placed, he’d chip
in for the fees of the next meet, which I gladly took him up on. Of course,
there was the bumptious boy whose name I could never remember that was in my
division as well, and he was poised to win. His overaggressive attitude could
disquiet anyone, and in all honesty I was scared to beat him for fear of his
reaction. But things worked out in my favor; he tore his uniform just before
the race, and his mother offered to darn it, but that left him without a
uniform and out of the race. So he was forced to sit in the stands east of the
track and watch as I sprinted circles around the competition, breaking his
record for fastest time and earning a gold medal and however much Coach was
willing to pay for my first semester’s college tuition in the fall. It was a
victory that I wouldn’t soon forget. And I definitely wasn’t going to let that
boy live it down until the day we graduated.

Wow, finally a use for our paper dictionary (rather than just using Google).

“Man, this sun is brutal, but it still is a very wonderful
day. Don’t ya think Dave?” she questioned lightly as the waves rolled onto the beach behind us. It had been a full day
of work building this dream beach house for some rich banker or something. The rest
of the crew had this crestfallen air
about them, but not her. Even after the endless tiling and placing of Clapboards she was still chipper and
rearing to go.

“Oh yes, beautiful. That ocean breeze is helping keep me
cool though.” I replied only after being entranced by the perfection with which
she ensconced the siding on the
house. Even though her scars were catching the light I could see the beauty
beneath. The beauty was spellbinding and I knew that despite all the other guys
whispering and gabbing away at how
she was so ugly and unfortunate due to the scars, that she was the one I
wanted.

“Yes it’s rather refreshing.” She said as she brushed her
hair behind her ear and wiped the sweat from her brow. I could see the stains
forming on her tight fitting
t-shirt, showing me just how hard working this woman was. Sure she swore like
an angry biker and drank more beer then a wealthy redneck, but the scars and
the swearing and the drinking only made her more perfect to me.

Taylor, thanks so much for your kind words. The continued response to this post has floored me.  

to rob, overload, schedule of repayment, gaelic, maladjusted, precisely (from French dictionary)

semantic

“never heard of overload in meaning?” the guy in the audience seemed angry. roxy was unsure of how to interpret this response to her poem. she had put her entire power of words into these two paragraphs she just read out. maybe she had wanted too much. now it seemed like a retarded idea to set up a whole fictitious image of a new shooting star of literature on facebook and make a stand-up performance here instead of just robbing one old lady and finally get back with her schedule of repayment for her mother’s loans.

fuck, she hated meaning. even as a kid she was entirely maladjusted to the demands of her parents and teachers to learn english, not to mention gaelic. she liked to eat, drink, walk, live, dance. screw the grammar police that precisely got her into this dilemma in the first place. all she needed to do was turn off the computer, get up and run away.