Ordinary Life

To my right: an accordion (& trumpet...& cow bells!).  To my left: a young man with autism named Odin.  The seating was communal, the meal was German. Odin and his mom were about the business of building happy memories in the wake of deep and recent loss. Odin said to us “Something terrible happened to my grandpa- he passed away.”  With Odin there was no pretense, when he needed salt, that’s all he needed and he sought it out with determination. When he thought the candles would be fun to blow out, he blew them out. We smiled and wished we could be that free, too. Sharing a meal with O was an extra scoop of joy.  Odin’s mom is made of strong stuff, yet she remains uncalloused. She leaves any excuse to be overwhelmed on the table and instead invests in the lives of her son and many others.  Jannik was our golden waiter. From a foreign land and eager to fill our cups, he was more than hospitable, he was truly kind. Employing Odin as his sidekick in the que...

The assignment: Personify a color, make hefty use of a thesaurus. What I turned in: I chose to write about one of my favorite colors. You can only see it for about ten minutes in the morning and maybe five on certain evenings and then, only on days with proper conditions. It really doesn't have a name (that I am aware of) but if it were a crayon, perhaps they'd call it Herald.  I am a color, not yet named.  Though a body could be lain to rest never having seen me (if that body were given to much sleep or staying indoors) I assure you that I am.  I ride the rim of the rising sun and throw back the shades of last night's sky. With a blast of golden trumpet, I herald the coming of a newborn day. I bathe the infant in splashes of light and wrap her in blankets of pink and glowing orange. I have written her name in the clouds with lifting birds, she will be called Possibilty. I tip-toe from the room, leaving her to d...

The assignment was to choose one of the provided prompts and complete it- with as much of a twist as we could muster. I chose the prompt: "Looking at Paris in this light..."  Looking at Paris in this light , Adkins could almost forgive the rookie his dumb mistake. Almost.  Like the flashes of amber waxing and waning over them from atop the ambulance, Lieutenant Michael Adkins alternated between looking at the shape of his mangled partner on the stretcher and out into the fog-drenched darkness of Seabridge Avenue. Too terrible to look at and too terrible to ignore, Mike's reflexes kept snapping his attention to Jimmy's face and just as quickly away.  On the stretcher, Officer James 'Paris' Frenchy, lay unconcious and bleeding. His badge dangled from his uniform and his left eye socket was empty.   Adkins sighed heavily into the thick night air. Tonight's shift already felt a year and a half long and he hadn't even begun the paperwork. So much paper...