Today's OneWord: Witch

"She's a witch! A witch! Burn her!"

"Shut up, Chad," snapped Alex, before she cast a coy glance at Tiffany. Tiffany cradled the game controller in her hands like it belonged there. "So, not too bad at Smash, are ya?"

Tiffany smiled beneath her blonde braid. "I mopped the floor with you, hon."

"I'll let you mop the floor with me any day," Alex replied, winking as she lifted her baseball cap from her eyes.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Tonight's Poet Corner: Introspection

Image
Wow. It is the first day of school at my new job on Monday. I will be working with over 120 students this year, teaching four sections of English Language Arts 10 and, of course, one section of Yearbook. I have used so much paper printing out syllabus after syllabus, class contracts, and first week assignments. I have structured my English curriculum for the first semester and begun designing skill-building sessions for Yearbook. I have even started tidying up my classroom (though I'm definitely going to get my students to help "create the space" - totally not just a cop-out for me doing it). I am taking a no-nonsense, yet loving, approach to my Yearbook class, and while I will certainly include some of that in English, I will also have to be mindful of the many sophomores who have IEPs and Section 504s in my classes. I am so anxious that this first week will turn out to be difficult, dramatic, and out of control. But I am also so, so excited. Again, I have a ci...
Read more

Tonight's Poet Corner: Attention Seeker

Attention Seeker by Belinda Roddie The boy eats all of his grandfather's rainbow medication, to see if he can grow wings of wax, ascend like Icarus, and touch the color spectrum without burning his fingers on the sun. There are no negative side effects to the pill consumption, but his mother insists on taking him to the hospital, and his father has one hand on his hip as he slowly and deliberately undoes his belt buckle so he can leave a pretty welt on the obvious attention seeker's face. His grandfather, out of everyone, minds the least, and he asks to see the boy's tongue - but it's pink, not blue or red or green like the mosaic of tablets swallowed in the fantasy assembly line. And he smiles and says, "This lad will grow wings some day," before taking his cane and using the tip to poke into the father's leg as a warning toward further violence. The boy goes to his room. He sleeps soundly. He dreams rambunctiously. All car...
Read more

Saturday's Storyteller: "Your kidneys have, for some reason, turned into cans of kidney beans."

by Belinda Roddie "Your kidneys have, for some reason, turned into cans of kidney beans." The response was nothing but the high-pitched hum of the machines flatlining. Doctor Randall Hemingstein paused. "Ma'am?" He prodded at the IV in the patient's wrist. "Ma'am?" His companion doctor, Patricia Wendt, looked ready to punch a nearby nurse in the gut. "Damn it, Randall!" she barked. "She's dead! Dead! Just like your last victim of renal failure!" "But I didn't do anything this time!" "That may be so, but..." Patricia frowned. She looked over the now cooling corpse of the patient before turning to the screen where two cans of kidney beans could be plainly seen. "Er...well..." "What?" She pursed her lips. "Yes, this is not as bad as your kidney speakers dilemma. But. We might find sometihng beneficial out of this." "Which is...?" Ran...
Read more