Tyrants Are Not To Be Dissuaded

  So, Pussy Riot, gorgeous girls. Whenever I saw them, poor things, I would yell: “Fuck Putin!” Always, this Russian thug would appear, try to hop into my bed. Wouldn’t listen when I said that wasn’t what I meant.

33 words for , to precede the phrase "That wasn't what I meant".

The Name of the Game Is Resilience

This story was awarded bronze for Trifecta 112, so I decided to tart up the post a bit with the editors' glowing review here : ) Thanks again, Tri!

"Rounding out our top three is the ever fabulous Kymm in Barcelona who gave us The Name of the Game is Resilience.  In the comments, someone likened the piece to a Tarantino film, and that seems a pretty appropriate fit.  When a writer has such command of the language that she can take risks such as these, you tend to get a really good read."

Jeanine and her makeover walked into a bar. The door shushed behind her, propelled her across the entryway. Via the doorjamb, standing speaker, barstool and pillar, she felt her way to the first empty table, grabbed the back of a chair with both hands and held on. ‘Get your bearings, Jeanine,’ she heard Chrissie’s voice admonish, and Chrissie was right, of course. The chair Jeanine clutched was facing the wall. The wall would never delight in her low-cut blouse and expensive haircut. Jeanine sidled over to the next chair, using the backs as a safety rope. When she heard a chorus of laughter break out at the far end of the bar, she made sure to place her rump squarely in the seat before satisfying her curiosity. College kids. Oh! Callooh! Callay! In her direct line of vision, she now noticed the couple - clipped from a spread in a fashion magazine - who were utterly absorbed in chewing each others’ tongues off. Jeanine tried to look away, but there was that wall again.

‘Get up and go sit at the bar,’ Chrissie’s voice hollered.

‘I will not get up now that I’ve sat down,’ Jeanine thought petulantly. ‘Barkeep!’ she thought emphatically. She tried raising her finger, but the barista was directly behind the tongueboarding couple Jeanine found impossible to avoid. She knew, she just knew, at some point they would turn to stare at her with slack-jawed expressions and one of them would drawl: ‘You’re pathetic, Jeanine.’

Jeanine shook her head. She cut Chrissie off: ‘I know, I know, I’m projecting. If I’m ever to vanquish this funk, that attitude has got to go.’

The door opened and in walked a cowboy, a doctor and a millionaire. Jeanine straightened her necklace. He was surely none of those, yet his shaggy brown hair and bomber jacket were aiming directly for Jeanine’s table. Jeanine’s makeover smiled. Jeanine held her breath as he stopped, grasped one of the chairs and asked: ‘Is this seat taken?’

333 words for , including FUNK (noun) 3 :  SLUMP  an economic funk;  the team went into a funk

The Third Date

She languished in his arms, her eyes sparkling. With tender lips, whispered yearnings, he spoke her name. Her sighs choked to a gasp as he rose to leave. “My wife will be waiting.”

33 words for  about love gone wrong.  But none of them are: love, sad, tears, wept, heart or pain.

This weekend's challenge is community judged. For the 48 hours following the close of the challenge, voting will be enabled on links.  In order to vote, return to this post where stars will appear next to each link. To vote, simply click the star that corresponds with your favorite post. You can vote for your top three favorite posts. Voting is open to everyone.

The Workout

Under daylight so weak it was absorbed by the dull street lights, Sonia watched Tommy’s school bus pull away. Making a point of not slinking off the bench and back to bed, she stood tall. Her nose burned from the cold, astringent air as she strode off to the park, to the five laps she would conquer today. She preferred to think of the laps as miles, notwithstanding the difficulty of suspending that particular disbelief. Rather than calculate the distance, she concentrated instead on the number of laps. Time being her only constraint, she had twenty minutes to break her record. If only the Parks Services guys would leave her alone.

Arnold Gregory puffed his cigar, pacing the dog so they could reach the gate just as Sonia passed through. The curve of the pond would offer him a perfect view of her butt when the show started. He knew the parks guys timed it, though he was unsure how they were able to manipulate the settings to make the sprinkler go off just as she was waddle-jogging past.

Like clockwork, the sweat-suited lady clomped by Denny and Kurt on her first turn around the pond, her face a scowl aimed at them. As she overtook the old man and his ugly dog, she coughed loudly. “Leave the old fuck his cigar already,” said Kurt under his breath. Denny rolled his eyes. They swept their way under the stand of pine trees in order to see the lady trundle by on her second lap. Kurt marvelled at her inability to remember it was the G5 sprinkler that misfired when it went on. Both men were watching as it sputtered to life the instant the sweat-suited lady reached it. They both saw how the plastic catch flew off and hit her in the eye, releasing behind it the spray that toppled her into the pond. Kurt gasped and sprang into action. Denny threw down the rake. “I’m gonna lose my fucking job,” he said.

333 words for , including MANIPULATE (transitive verb) 3: to change by artful or unfair means so as to serve one's purpose : to doctor

This weekend's challenge is community judged. For the 48 hours following the close of the challenge, voting will be enabled on links.  In order to vote, return to this post where stars will appear next to each link. To vote, simply click the star that corresponds with your favorite post. You can vote for your top three favorite posts. Voting is open to everyone.