Drabble Roundup Post For 6/8/2010

[dien]

Daily Drabble Round-up for Day Nine of the 100 Drabbles Of Summer (6/8/2010)

All participants post your drabbles here as a comment!

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prompt for Summer Drabbles - 44- Baggage

[aoutlaw321]

Muse: Aidan Janson
Title: Baggage

~

“What are those?!” Aidan asks as he watches many men walk into his house with bags and luggage in tow.

K’tanya smiles sweetly at him, “Didn’t you hear? I’m moving in!”

“No. I didn't hear! What are you talking about?”

She looks at him in disbelief, “Didn’t Wes tell you? He hired a contractor to do the new addition to your house. That’s me!”

“No, no, no, Wes said that he met with a guy named Bill!”

“Yes, That’s me! I think you forget just how awesome I am, Aidan. Anyway, he signed a contract and I’m here to stay!”

Drabble 9, Picture 69 - Return to Sender

[island_juliet]

Juliet’s desk is filled with letters that never get sent. She started writing the day she decided she wasn’t leaving the island. She hasn’t stopped, and already one DHARMA issued notebook is traded for another. But she never shows James what she’s writing. He never asks, and he never snoops. He can’t help but watch her though.

"What?" she asks one day.

"What are you writin’ there, Blondie?"

"Letters."

"No shit?"

She looks up at him, silent for a minute as she holds his gaze. "To my sister."

His face softens and he nods, letting her get back to it.

66. picture of a red balloon (31 of 100)

[vavarner]

"Can I tie it to your wrist?" Grandma asks, but Valentine shakes his head no.

He runs ahead with his balloon, string precariously clutched in tiny hand, up the steep hill towards his grandparents house. Reaching the top he turns around, looks for grandma. She's leaning on a bench, hunched and huffing.

In his rush to get back to her, Valentine forgets to hold tight. The balloon floats free. Grandma gasps for air.

"Diti," she breathes. His grandfather's name.

Val darts back up the hill, fast as his small legs can, calling "Grandpa! Grandpa!"

The red balloon's lost to clouds.

72, picture of shells (32 of 100)

[mausferatu]

(same L, different character =))

Maus felt the shell before he saw it. Bleached white by the sun, shimmering ghostly in the moon. He bent to scoop it up, pale in his dark hand.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Devon asked.

Maus tilted his head, unsure of what he should be amazed about.

"The shell. You know, that's calcified. Older than dirt. Over a thousand years since the Lenni Lenape left it here."

"Ah," said Maus, and tucked it into his pocket.

"This whole island is a midden. We're standing on millennial garbage."

Fitting that the dead should walk over the bones of the past, Maus thought.

54. picture of broken clock (33 of 100)

[vavarner]

In his grandfather's will, there'd been a provision for Valentine to get the pocketwatch. Well-crafted, engraved with trains and his grandfather's retirement date.

Val'd collected the watch at the funeral, clipped the chain to his pocket. Kept it with him all day. He vowed to keep it forever. Take good care of it. That night, he was exhausted. Tired enough to unclip the watch and leave it on his dresser instead of taking the usual precautions he took with valuables.

In the morning, the watch was gone. So was she.

Three days later, momma returned. The watch never did.

22. Storm (34 of 100)

[vavarner]

The air is cooler now with the summer storm.

They lay, legs entwined together, on the treehouse bed. Sheets scent of Val's sweat from the earlier, warmer hours.

A book of poetry by Mister Langston Hughes lies open between them, white pages glowing yellow in the lantern light. They take turns reading to each other, interspersed with gentle touching - fingers stroking over throat, hair, or cheeks.

Val flips the pages to find a particular poem.

"Let the rain sing you a lullaby," he reads - but when Ellis reaches for him again sleep's the furthest thing from either of their minds.

#67 Palm Tree (pic)

[skyfallen_meli]

Snakes slithered their way up the Pegaeae. Rustling branches of palm hummed Apollo's song. She could hear her god plucking prophecy from the strings of his lyre. The Muses' melody harmonizing with the foretelling. She hung in the air, limbs dangling, back arched. Water poured from her fingertips as sight flowed into her mind. Serpent tongues flicked and hissed, winding their way around her suspended body. She silently mouthed paeans of love and worship. Her soul was fueled by his fire. Her heart sang out for Apollo's truths for lips of lower beings could not ask for gifts from gods.

#75 Kid in Pool (pic)

[skyfallen_meli]

Pools stank of chlorine and other chemicals. Amara refused to dip a single toe into one, but she did enjoy sitting on the sidelines, soaking up the sun. Families arriving, stumbling little children in tow. They would shriek, squeal, fuss endlessly. Jumping in, splashing water everywhere. Making games out of the simplest things. She laughed at their silliness. Felt for them when inevitably one would crash to the ground, skinning a knee, mom running to the rescue. She wondered what it was like. To be that carefree. To have the innocence of youth. To even have a childhood at all.

#56 Crossroads (pic)

[wild_bultungin]

Badru stood on the brink. Was at a crossroads so to speak. Beth was never part of the plan. He had intended for her to merely be a distraction. But emotions happen when you're human. Well, mostly human.

It was her confidence that had finally won him over. She had been the one to initiate everything. She loved him and he owed it to her to be honest. He knew she already felt there was something amiss.

He picked up the phone."Honey, it's me. Can you meet me for dinner tonight? I have something I want to tell you."

#16 Patience

[wild_bultungin]

Sun and Moon were slowly trading places. Badru's skin itched, his teeth pushed at his gums, driving him crazy. Most days he was even tempered, easy going. But on the day of the full moon Badru's patience ran thin. He had a tendency to lash out at anyone who annoyed him. Last time he'd become so frustrated he chucked the television out the window. It wasn't the first time he'd have to replace something. This time would be different. He'd promised himself he wouldn't get out of control again. Not until after the transformation. Badru paced anxiously across the apartment.

#13 Temperance

[wastedaysnights]

“No. He never punched me.” Amy averted her sister-in-law’s eyes. She couldn’t tell the whole truth. She couldn’t turn sister against brother. Amy knew that blood is thicker than water. Her in-laws would stand behind him, not her.

No, he wasn’t a hitter. He was a thrower. When his temper flared up he threw things - a book; a frying pan full of hot food; the phone; a Walkman. And when he threw things, he threw them at Amy. He had good aim and a strong arm. She wasn’t protecting him. Amy just couldn’t tell anyone that she hadn’t fallen again.