Davina, over at Shades of Crimson recently posted a creative writing challenge in which she suggested taking a list of 9 words to incorporate into a story/poem/whatever.  I’m a little late to the game and I went well over the one hundred word suggestion.  So, I can’t really consider this for submission.  Nevertheless, I had fun.

Below is a little ditty I threw together, with an alternate ending.  The words in bold were on the list.

Divergence

“We have to adjust,” he said from behind his morning newspaper.  “We have to move on.”

“How about pumpkin curry lentil soup tonight?” she said, ignoring him.

“It was a mistake.”

She glanced at him and opened the spice cabinet.

“Now where is that turmeric?”

“How long is this going to go on?” He lowered his paper and watched her.

A spider crawled along the floorboard near her foot.

Her ears were ringing. God she wanted a smoke.

“It’s like a life sentence here, babe.”

“Oh, here it is.” She swiped the spice bottle off the shelf.

“You couldn’t possibly think I meant to do it.” His voice was getting more intense, frantic.
She stared at the spider.

“Great, now we’ve got an audience,” she thought.

She crushed the spider with her bare foot and turned toward the far counter. The turmeric bottle slipped from her hand, breaking on the tile floor.  Tears welled up in her eyes as she grabbed the dish towel and bent to scoop up the mess.

“Hon, let me help you.” He was crouching near her, hand on her back.

She recoiled, pushing back against the cabinets. Weeping, she sat, pulling her knees to her chest, staring at the floor.  The beige floor.  Beige tiles.  Beige wallpaper.  Beige ceiling. Who the hell put all this beige in here?  It’s so damned…beige.

He finished wiping up the mess and tossed the dishrag into the washroom.  Turning to the breakfast table, he lit the candle.  She used to love candles.

She watched him blow out the match.  A tear ran down his cheek.

But, she didn’t care anymore.

He had killed her baby.

Alternate Ending:

He finished wiping up the mess and tossed the dishrag into the washroom.

Suddenly she farted loudly. I mean, amazingly so.  He lit a match and they both had a big laugh and made dinner together.

So, I had this blog going once.

Then stuff happened. Life stuff.

And I stopped writing.

Other stuff happened.

I lost my nuggets.  Well, in a manner of speaking.

Months went by.  All the other writers kept writing.  I watched.  From behind.

Even more stuff happened.

An identity crisis was really in full swing.

But, my ideas about what to write have not changed! Ugh.

And I must write.

All the “experts” say to find a narrow focus and write to that. The problem is there is so much I want to say…and I can’t decide what to focus on!

Stuff keeps happening.  It’s the way it is.

So, I will write. About all kinds of stuff.

Over time a picture will emerge from the fragments, from the sometimes painful transparency, from whatever else occurs here.

Hopefully it is a picture that speaks to someone.

photo credit: Harry Willis