Moxie Monday: You Are Ready
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
Fiction Friday: [All Beth Could Do]
[Today's Fiction Friday was a fun exercise I found via Writer's Digest Magazine. The prompt involved writing a story where each sentence begins with the next letter of the alphabet! Cool, right? Here's my go at it. Enjoy!]
Anger had her paralyzed and she knew she would have to fight her way out of the funk. Beth had never been one to shy away from controversy and today would be no different. Changes to the charter had sent a shockwave of anger throughout the women on campus. Declarations were to be formally made by the administration in the quad at three.
Everyone debated whether or not to boycott the mandatory meeting. For Beth, it was a no brainer. Going to the meeting and fighting to get her voice heard would be her chance to make a difference. Her only chance.
If they let them get away with this now, women would be relegated back to the Stone Age. Just meant to be seen and not heard. Kindred spirits would rally behind her, of that she was sure. Like-minded individuals not willing to allow the administration to fill classes based solely on gender. Men weren’t the only ones capable of solving complex scientific problems or performing complicated surgeries. Nothing they could say would justify their decision.
Oasis Corporation had recently become a huge benefactor of the university and it was no secret that their money was made off the misogynistic products they produced. Professors had been fired when they’d spoken out against allowing a company like theirs to sully the integrity of such a prestigious institution of higher education. Quite a few quit on their own when their objections proved useless.
Rallies popped up initially, but many were quickly sated by the upgrades and perks from the influx of money. So many had fallen under their spell then, but there was no way they would sit idly by with something as progress shattering as this. There was no way.
Unified they would not allow the women’s movement to be set back. Vetoing power would be wrested and placed in the students hands.
Walking toward the quad, Beth steeled her resolved, but as she looked around, she knew she wasn’t alone. Xeroxes of the meeting flyer were strewn all over the campus in ripped shreds. Yawping could already be heard from the meeting area, sending a jolt of pride through her body. Zigzagging through the crowd of both men and women, raising their voices in protest, Beth felt pretty confident about the future.
Moxie Monday: Dream Everyday
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
#RIPMayaAngelou
Fiction Friday: [In Defense of Kitten Mittens]
[This week's Fiction Friday is an exercise I've seen around the old internet. It involves writing a story using only dialogue. Nothing else. Just dialogue. Enjoy]
“I don’t get it. Why would you want to put socks on the cat?”
“Not socks…mittens.”
“Because that makes it better?”
“No…ahhh…you just don’t understand. You have to watch the episode of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Charlie makes a commercial for Kitten Mittens…”
“Okay…literally the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“No…it’s hilarious. Anyway, he puts them on the kitten and it tries to walk, but it’s like it forgot how to use its paws or something. It’s seriously one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen.”
“So, what you’re really saying is that you want to make Mr. Binks look like an idiot.”
“No…you’re just not getting it.”
“Yeah, sorry. I don’t get why you want to torture my cat.”
“It’s not…ugh…look, we’ll just watch the episode and you’ll see.”
“I couldn’t be more excited.”
“Yeah, I can tell.”
“Anyway, I’m going to be late for work. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
“Oh, and you better leave my cat alone…I’m serious. Don’t traumatize my cat.”
“Alright, alright…geez.”
“Psst, psssssst...here Mr. Binks…come see what I have for you…”
[For those that have yet to behold the amazingness that is Kitten Mittens (or Mittons, as Charlie spells it), click the cat: 😺]
Moxie Monday: Choose Wisely
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
Fiction Friday: [The Last First Date]
Mired in the most awkward silence of my life, I regret not concocting some sort of contingency plan. I wanted to. I really did, but my friend, Michelle, talked me out of it by telling me how ridiculous I was being. It’ll be interesting to see if we’re still friends by the end of the night.
After clearing his throat, in the phlegmiest, most disgusting way, my date starts to tell me a story about the time he got struck by lightning. How had he not led with that? In just a few sentences, the question’s answered. For the love of God…how does he make getting struck by lightning sound boring? I feel bad for a second, wondering if the jolt of electricity was what zapped his personality.
Tuning him out, I think about how I should have trusted my instincts and stuck to my ‘no blind dates’ rule. Then, I start to wonder how often LoveMatch gets sued for their misleading commercials. The ones that supposedly feature actual members of their site. This date is the polar opposite of the happy, beautiful people they feature. The ones that lean in toward one another while laughing at each other’s jokes. That stare at each other with googly eyes. Blech. There will most definitely not be a moment where I use any excuse to reach over and touch him.
The only thing getting me through is constantly reminding myself that, this isn’t just my first blind date, it’ll also be my last.
Ugh, I suppose I should try and pay attention…
“…so they said I was lucky to be alive and I told them to go get struck by lightning and then tell me how lucky they feel.”
No one’s more surprised than I am when I laugh. And, despite the fact that I know he hadn’t meant to be funny, he laughs, too. Then, after taking a considerable gulp of wine, he looks directly at me for the first time all night.
Wait, what’s happening?
Staring into his eyes, I have to admit that they’re beautiful. The nervousness they reflect is actually endearing. I catch a hint of a sparkle as his smile grows. Maybe the commercials were more accurate than I gave them credit for. Maybe it’s just been my bad attitude ruining the date.
Looks like Michelle and I can still be friends.
Then, he clears his throat again.
Nope, friendship’s over.
Moxie Monday: Shout!
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
Fiction Friday: [Victim | Killer]
I dig my nails deeper and rake them across the skin. These are my last moments. I have to make them count.
I’m placing a lot of faith in the procedural dramas I love to watch. Loved to watch? Whatever. They’ll do it. They’ll scrape under my nails and I know they’ll find you.
So I dig. And I claw. And I pack as much DNA into my nail beds as I can.
My lungs start to burn from neglect. My eyes bulge in their sockets and I struggle to blink. My heartbeat has grown so weak, I can’t even feel the thump of it in my chest.
I want to be proud of staying clearheaded enough to ensure that you’ll be caught. But, as coal colored circles make their way toward my pupils, it isn’t pride I feel. It’s complete and utter sadness for the life I won’t have the chance to live.
Damn, I think.
Then the darkness overtakes me.
She digs her nails even deeper into my arms. The burning is going to go away, but I doubt the scars ever will.
Choking wasn’t the best choice, but it wasn’t like I’d planned it out. This was a long time coming, so when the opportunity presented itself, I had to take it.
Ugh, she won’t stop digging. I wish she would die already.
Her perfect face is flushed in various shades of red. It’s pointless for her mouth to be open so wide. She can’t scream…or breathe. I swear I can see the light dimming in her eyes.
This is her fault. She ruined our relationship. She’d been my perfect little baby. I raised her alone and we’d been so close. Then, she became a woman, became my competition. Men used to look at me the way they look at her. I…I think she’s gone.
Damn, I think.
This doesn’t feel as good as I thought it would.
