Monday Minute

bowl,threeThe Monday Minutes are going to be based on prompts from “The One-Minute Writer”

Today’s snippet is in response to: Today’s Writing Prompt: I Built That/Today write about something you made by hand.

(Crossing Seasons) Waves in Clay

Deborah Knoll set the last of the pieces on the windowsill, wondering if it was wise to fill them with herbs and petals from the gardens.

What if the guests didn’t like it? What if it caused an allergic reaction for someone? What if she was counting her hopes before the doors even opened? Each foolishly folly fell like clinks on a glass, just aiming for a breaking point.

Deborah didn’t realize Jacob was outside until he hollered for her. She tied back the curtains she had sewn only hours before, then pushed the windows outward to rest against the shutters.

Hands on his hips and oblivious to the streaks of dirt on his face, Jacob looked like the young man she struck with her car how many years ago?

“I remember when all I had to do was toss pebbles against your window to get your attention. Should I learn to make a rocket launcher next time?”

Deborah shook her head and smiled. “I still think we’re crazy, dear.”

“Well, too late to turn back now. Half of our savings is invested in the ground, the other half’s in the house. Relax. We can’t do any worse than, say, ‘Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House’.”

“What if our guests rate this along the lines of ‘Mr. Hobbs Takes a Vacation?’ Then what?”

“Save it for ‘The Philadelphia Story.’ Now get down here and help me with the salad pickings, will ya? Or I’ll probably have you yelling at me for us suffering fried green tomatoes.”

Deborah sighed. “You’ve yet to try that dish, you know.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to now. What do you say, Deb?”

From where she was, it didn’t seem so bad after all.


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