1.2 – Or Buckle the Shoe


Hello again, dear reader! Still here? Well, here’s day two’s prompt and challenge:

Mind control
The ability to control someone else’s mind
A character is manipulated into doing something against their will/better judgment.
How might a character try resisting being controlled?

Murray slammed the hood of the car, wincing as he narrowly missed sandwiching his finger.

He should have suspected that Jinelle was up to something when she offered to go up to the attic for him if he went into the basement. The offer was too easy, too convenient – the whole nonsense that ‘Ms. Mountain Climber’ would do better climbing down with boxes than he would coming up with his was just… wrong. (He continued to curse Nioma for the stupid task of sorting the stuff for the various charities, but he’d wait until the globetrotting friend returned to let her have it.)

Turning the key in the ignition, Murray hoped that he fixed the engine properly. He hated the feeling of dread that Jinelle was holding out on him and that Cole Portewr wandered into something he shouldn’t have; something Murray should have been aware of sooner than now.

It was that guy, ‘Dublin’s’ fault. If Jinelle hadn’t brought ‘Mr. Intrigue’ over to distract Yvonne, then none of this would have happened. The stupid game of trivia didn’t help, either, with a hidden theme of questions and answers that wove this web trapping Murray’s friend.

No, it was Nioma’s fault. She left. She set Cole Porter up for cat-wrangling and house sitting. She was the one to mail the postcards, then letters, then that forsaken package…

The engine turned as if to shut Murray’s racing thoughts down once and for all.



1.1 – Or ‘It’s Begun’ (again)


The ‘Stare Down.’

So, I failed miserably to keep fellow NaNoWriMo’s (and readers) up to date on this past November’s project. I even failed to make it to 80% of the gatherings close by. And, for the first time ever, failed to make it to “Writing on the Road” (our region’s version of the big S.F. California deal)…

So, thanks to an awesome friend and ML, going to play with the writing prompts that were part of a game at the gathering. A different prompt for a different day of the month (until I run out of prompts and/or the motivating ML pal supplies me with something else).

Prepare yourself, dear reader, for a cobbled collection of ‘prompts meet NaNo projects – regular and camp variety.’ No planning, just rambling…

1.1 –

The ability to turn invisible/to disappear
Someone so quiet and unnoticed that they may as well be invisible.
Something has vanished as if into nothing.

Cole Porter Lipton wondered if the idea of invisibility ever occurred to Murray. Was his best friend always so social, so chameleon-like, or was this the result of a broken shell shaped in youth?

He found the exit to his left and turned to escape, only to have fingernails dig into his forearm.

“And just where do you think you’re going? If I have to pay, you have to pay.”

Cole Porter sighed. “Nioma, you know I hate these things – people milling about with a wine glass in one hand and an untouched fried brie roll or bacon-wrapped scallop on a plate in the other. The food just gets pushed around while the empty glasses get replaced faster than you can say-.”

“Oh shut up and dance with me, then. No way to hold food or liquor.” She added softly, “Not that some of these folks here look like they can do either, let alone balance, much longer.”

In the corner of the room, just short of the patio door, was a sound Cole Porter was all too familiar with. He had that same reaction, in the boy’s restroom, just before he had to give a speech in class.

Nioma put a finger to Cole Porter’s lips. “Oh, shut up and dance with me…anywhere but here.”

With a smile, he gathered their belongings and they slipped from the party without anyone else’s notice.

Proper Beginning! (Maybe)


Elemental Visions

‘They’re angels,’ she said. ‘They’ll love you and be perfectly harmless,’ she said. ‘They’d be proper practice for you as a possible, perfectly patient parent…’ Cole Porter Lipton cursed the foul charges as he juggled the phone in one hand and the can of tuna fish in the other as both villainous felines dug their claws into his shins.

“Nioma,” he said through his gritted smile, “Remember the deal of you bringing me back some proper Paris or London tea? Make it German beer and we’ll call it even.”

Meandering Minglings

Cool View J2.JPG

(Or what happens when you mix Merriam Webster’s word of the day with A Story A Day’s challenge, and pasting the last thing you (don’t remember that you) copied and complete, utter nonsense.

An Invisible Thread

Blame it on the state Mom was in, or the frame of mind brought on by the holiday. (Scrooge could look downright cheerful in this relay race of misery). Either way, Forest ignored the complaints, instead, adjusting the invisible thread tied about at the waist, meant to help with the pail full of water and pebbles. The puppy was going to gain up on them, so Forest had to raise the pails higher.

It was all Forest could do to not toss either pail at the mayor, who had to ramble on and on about the airplane he was going to purchase, if any of the tax payers’ money might remain. The baleful look in those beady little eyes made Forest squirm, wishing more and more that Forest could turn the Mayor into a worm!


Who Knew the New Year…?


The last thing she wanted to do was to have to take care of a dog. She hated them – dogs, cats, birds, any animals, really. And yet, the happy brown puppy found its way into her garage, again.

Grumbling, she put on her snow boots, then gloves, coat, scarf, and hat. Maybe, just maybe, as she shoved the path from the garage to the mailbox, the dog might find a car to chase after and a new family to call ‘home.’

For every shovel-full of snow she tossed to the side, the puppy jumped in an attempt to eat half of it. She smiled, despite herself. Hints of her baby brother, Benny, could be seen as white powdered the brown. Always jumping up for the unnecessary, the silly, the pure joy.

“Keep it up, you won’t have no room for steak and eggs when we get back, Mutt.” She didn’t plan on having steak and eggs for breakfast, content with the usual bowl of oatmeal. But the morning seemed to warrant a change, and not because of the year on the calendar.

Who knew the new year would bring a four-footed friend she’d admit to claiming as family.


Day Three, Or….


Day three and I finally crossed the 4-digit word count mark! (and the word count goal of day one, with a few words to spare…1670).

Like a fellow NaNoRhino in our region, I may have ended up with a second ‘First Lines‘ bit…. However, this is the first line of a story(book) within the story, so it isn’t exactly cheating because…. Well, since this project’s still plotless, that’s why!

“I lied, to keep you from dying that day; and that may have been the worst mistake of my life.”

How is your NaNo project progressing?