I looked around at all your tiny drawings. Nothing jumped out at me, initially. Then, I saw them. The conversation came to life immediately. It's so simple and matter of fact. The words are spoken most every day. "What's for dinner?"
Charlie was so excited about his new bike that he almost forgot about his mom standing behind him. He twisted the rubber grips around the handlebars as he pedaled hard. A bike could move him faster than he could run. It was a new world of speed, but he was dragging anchor.
(Right lower corner reader, and engrossed reader— the same guy)
He had been looking forward to the new book for some time; by chance he had the afternoon off and was anticipating the start of his newest adventure. But both roommates were playing music too loudly, so loudly that he could not hear his inner voice as he cracked the spine and read the Introduction. Luckily it was a beautiful summer day. He grabbed his new hat and took off for the park just a block away. The first open grass beckoned him and he eagerly laid down to open Chapter 1. It was at the end of the first paragraph that he realized the cold, wet, sticky sensation on his belly. Sitting up, he heard a little boy crying nearby, pointing in his direction. Only then did he realize that the partially melted orange popsickle the boy had dropped was sticking to his white shirt and shorts. Chagrined, he returned home, quickly cleaned up, and changed out of the soiled garments. It was then he thought to grab the unused yoga mat to cushion his repose and protect his clothes. He practically ran back to the park, new hat askance, and laid down on the mat to immediately became engrossed in the newest release of his favorite author. It wasn’t until sometime later, back home after dinner, that he realized just how sunburned his neck had become. And being a bit naive, from the Pacific Northwest, he finally realized the origins of that word in the title: Redneck. But it was worth it; he was already halfway done— with the book, that is…..
Right half of the image, the backside of the two women talking, one holding a bottle:
L: “Thanks for meeting me.”
W: “Like I had a choice.”
L: “Of course you had a choice.”
W: “Assume positive intent. That’s what your husband taught me. So, no, I didn’t have a choice.”
L: “He was a wise, thoughtful man.”
W: “Yes, my brother was very kind. And now he’s gone. You drove a wedge between us and now he’s fucking gone!”
L: “I never said he couldn’t talk to you.”
W: “You didn’t have to!! You bullied him and you bullied me, getting involved in business that wasn’t yours to get into. Of course he was going to side with you.”
L: “He was a loyal husband.”
W: “And you were a jealous wife. Plutonic jealousy. The worst kind. I was about to get married for Christ sake! “
L: “I’m sorry. I…”
W: “Sorry? For what? Not being able to handle the connection we had? For cutting off a relationship where I understood things about him you couldn’t? For taking away the person who understood me in ways no one else ever has?”
L: “I…”
W: “Would you have acted this way if we had been blood family? True brother-and-sister? Or was our relationship unacceptable and intolerable because it was by choice?”
<*silence>*
W: “What do you want? Why are we here? You don’t even like wine.”
L: “He did. This was the last bottle he bought. I thought you should have it. And I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”
W: “Freakshow red blend. How fitting. He always liked Freakshow.”
On a beach towel the Underwood's keys hot on her fingertips, the writer typed out her anxieties, piling sheets of vellum on the sand. Later at the bonfire she watched while the stack of paper burned, her anxieties diminishing to tiny sparks until they vanished into the stillness of the night.
Well, I finally did it. Drug my pasty parts out to the park, without my phone. Been a while. Like almost never. Glad I brought the towel. Wish it was bigger. So many dogs…yeah, don’t think about that. Ok, so let’s try this book thing. It’s kinda heavy but I promised myself I’d try. You swore I’d never read a ‘real book.’ Well, just watch me. Hmm, hard to get comfortable. My arms are kinda feeling numb. I think there’s a rock under here. How am I supposed to read with that sun in my face. Is that my skin burning! Knew I shouldn’t have worn shorts. Whose idea was this? I’ve got to roll over. Like right, urg, now. How long do in have to do this for it to count?
Woman: You have to stop letting him pull you like that.
Man, yanks leash: Max, heel!
The dog, either obstinate or deaf, does not heel. The dog, Max, is utterly lost in the cloud of scents distracting him from all composure.
Woman: I cannot relax with that dog behaving like an idiot. He’s making a scene! Get control of him, will ya?
Man, whistling, coaxing Max with a half-eaten PayDay pulled from his front pocket.
Max is unfazed. The warm, slippery smell of salami is on the air. Max keeps pulling, his short neck straining like a pointer’s, his back legs hopping in unison to haul the man forward, forward!
The woman, disgusted by the man’s lack and the dog’s insistence, quickens her pace to leave them behind.
Dog
“When we first agreed to foster Diesel, I wasn’t too sure.”
“And now?”
“He’s kinda grown on me.”
She looked surprised. “You were nervous.”
“Yeah, but now we have our park routine.”
“Does this mean…?”
“Yes.”
Awww such a great story! ❤️
Two Hats on a Blanket
"What should we do for dinner tonight?"
"Hmm. We could eat out."
"Yeah. We could. But, we've got the seafood soup you made the other day. It's sooo good. I don't want it going to waste."
He sighed lightly and squinted. "True. Would you be willing to make one of your yummy salads? I think we've still got ingredients in the fridge."
Grinning with a slight nod, "Absolutely. Plus, we can toast the stale bread and use up that open Chardonnay, too."
He replied, energized and gushing, "Leftovers are the best. With you."
Sweet! This was the couple drawing together that day. The story fits them so well. :)
I looked around at all your tiny drawings. Nothing jumped out at me, initially. Then, I saw them. The conversation came to life immediately. It's so simple and matter of fact. The words are spoken most every day. "What's for dinner?"
I can imagine this. Beautifully rendered
Thank you. ❤️ Hasn't this been a fun assignment? 🤗
Teaching Learning
Charlie was so excited about his new bike that he almost forgot about his mom standing behind him. He twisted the rubber grips around the handlebars as he pedaled hard. A bike could move him faster than he could run. It was a new world of speed, but he was dragging anchor.
“Mom! I got it!”
“I know, sweetie,” she said grabbing tighter.
Ohh well done! Such a rich tale in few words. 🥰
(Right lower corner reader, and engrossed reader— the same guy)
He had been looking forward to the new book for some time; by chance he had the afternoon off and was anticipating the start of his newest adventure. But both roommates were playing music too loudly, so loudly that he could not hear his inner voice as he cracked the spine and read the Introduction. Luckily it was a beautiful summer day. He grabbed his new hat and took off for the park just a block away. The first open grass beckoned him and he eagerly laid down to open Chapter 1. It was at the end of the first paragraph that he realized the cold, wet, sticky sensation on his belly. Sitting up, he heard a little boy crying nearby, pointing in his direction. Only then did he realize that the partially melted orange popsickle the boy had dropped was sticking to his white shirt and shorts. Chagrined, he returned home, quickly cleaned up, and changed out of the soiled garments. It was then he thought to grab the unused yoga mat to cushion his repose and protect his clothes. He practically ran back to the park, new hat askance, and laid down on the mat to immediately became engrossed in the newest release of his favorite author. It wasn’t until sometime later, back home after dinner, that he realized just how sunburned his neck had become. And being a bit naive, from the Pacific Northwest, he finally realized the origins of that word in the title: Redneck. But it was worth it; he was already halfway done— with the book, that is…..
Oh what a lovely story, now I’m thinking of the last book I read with this kind of energy.
Right half of the image, the backside of the two women talking, one holding a bottle:
L: “Thanks for meeting me.”
W: “Like I had a choice.”
L: “Of course you had a choice.”
W: “Assume positive intent. That’s what your husband taught me. So, no, I didn’t have a choice.”
L: “He was a wise, thoughtful man.”
W: “Yes, my brother was very kind. And now he’s gone. You drove a wedge between us and now he’s fucking gone!”
L: “I never said he couldn’t talk to you.”
W: “You didn’t have to!! You bullied him and you bullied me, getting involved in business that wasn’t yours to get into. Of course he was going to side with you.”
L: “He was a loyal husband.”
W: “And you were a jealous wife. Plutonic jealousy. The worst kind. I was about to get married for Christ sake! “
L: “I’m sorry. I…”
W: “Sorry? For what? Not being able to handle the connection we had? For cutting off a relationship where I understood things about him you couldn’t? For taking away the person who understood me in ways no one else ever has?”
L: “I…”
W: “Would you have acted this way if we had been blood family? True brother-and-sister? Or was our relationship unacceptable and intolerable because it was by choice?”
<*silence>*
W: “What do you want? Why are we here? You don’t even like wine.”
L: “He did. This was the last bottle he bought. I thought you should have it. And I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”
W: “Freakshow red blend. How fitting. He always liked Freakshow.”
L: “Yes, yes he did.”
Oh how dramatic! But I hope the wine helped smooth things over. 🍷
Great example of creating conflict through dialogue
Type, Type, Type
the inspiration hits I can't
wait to get back home alone
there is a calm that I will
own and then convert to this
a poem forms is borne
as inspiration warms in sun
I have only just begun...
Only just begun! I know the feeling when inspiration hits and we frantically try to bottle it until the best time for it to release.
Type type type
On a beach towel the Underwood's keys hot on her fingertips, the writer typed out her anxieties, piling sheets of vellum on the sand. Later at the bonfire she watched while the stack of paper burned, her anxieties diminishing to tiny sparks until they vanished into the stillness of the night.
Detox!
Whoa...
Well, I finally did it. Drug my pasty parts out to the park, without my phone. Been a while. Like almost never. Glad I brought the towel. Wish it was bigger. So many dogs…yeah, don’t think about that. Ok, so let’s try this book thing. It’s kinda heavy but I promised myself I’d try. You swore I’d never read a ‘real book.’ Well, just watch me. Hmm, hard to get comfortable. My arms are kinda feeling numb. I think there’s a rock under here. How am I supposed to read with that sun in my face. Is that my skin burning! Knew I shouldn’t have worn shorts. Whose idea was this? I’ve got to roll over. Like right, urg, now. How long do in have to do this for it to count?
There certainly were too many dogs for comfortable reading. One came and pooped right in front of a reader while I was there!
Man and Woman Walking Dog, right page
Woman: You have to stop letting him pull you like that.
Man, yanks leash: Max, heel!
The dog, either obstinate or deaf, does not heel. The dog, Max, is utterly lost in the cloud of scents distracting him from all composure.
Woman: I cannot relax with that dog behaving like an idiot. He’s making a scene! Get control of him, will ya?
Man, whistling, coaxing Max with a half-eaten PayDay pulled from his front pocket.
Max is unfazed. The warm, slippery smell of salami is on the air. Max keeps pulling, his short neck straining like a pointer’s, his back legs hopping in unison to haul the man forward, forward!
The woman, disgusted by the man’s lack and the dog’s insistence, quickens her pace to leave them behind.
Oh I love this little slice of a complicated life. And Max utterly oblivious to human concerns. 🙌
Awaiting further instructions
Guy standing: "hey let's go to the sea!"
Girl: "give me a moment..."
Hmm, I can't reach the back. Shall I ask for his help with the lotion?
Guy: "how long do u need?"
Wow, the sea looks gorgeous. I want to get in there now.
Girl: Hmm he looks impatient. Maybe I'll figure it out myself.
Stretttchhhh to the back.
Guy: "you look like you're struggling. Do u need help?"
Girl: "ugh, no. You go on ahead."
Guy: "alright see u in a bit! Come quickly!"
(👆 a typical story when we don't communicate our true thoughts)
So relatable!
Waiting
He told me he'd be here at 5 o'clock. It's now 2 minutes after. Darn him, he's always late. I'm going to really let him have it this time.
Ring. Hello. Oh, you mean the park on 48th Street. Well, I'm, I'm right there by the oak tree. Don't you see me.
Oh I've done that before! 😅 I mean ... I've had that happen to me before! 🫣🫣
Teaching/Learning
“The grass is harder to ride on, Mom”
“But it’s softer if you fall”
“Can I just pedal myself?”
“Let me just push you a little more.”
Holding on/letting go 🥲