The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #32


The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #32

One Picture

One Element

One Emotion

200 Words

A woman bouncing on an exercise ball in the road

The Need to Tell a Secret

Just Brewed Coffee

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15 thoughts on “The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #32

  1. Promises

    Miranda stuffed her cell phone in her pocket, pretending there was no text from her partner. “Going to the gym?”
    Christ! Like the gym was so tempting to a sixty-pound-over-ideal-weight forty something. She snatched at her travel mug, nearly upsetting the therapeutic brew snuggled inside. Freshly-brewed coffee…that would help.
    Actually a damn spice donut would help, but no, not today. The Fat Ass 5K was only sixteen weeks away, and Miranda had promised her partner she would “run” the race this year.
    That regrettable promise morphed into a barrage of unexpected surprises– alternating weight training and cardio, weekly long-distance power walking, incessant nagging about carbs, sodium, and protein.
    The only thing Miranda didn’t regret was the bi-weekly bouncy-ball class at the local YMCA. She delighted in watching the butt-floss women off-balance on the stability balls, aggravating updates of the giant-handled pogo ball she’d had when she was thirteen, slimmer, and slightly less worried about whether or not she’d survive a 5K.
    She truly needed to tell Jean how much she regretted her frivolous commitment to running anything. She truly needed…
    Miranda exhaled, unaware she’d been holding her breath, slung the gym bag on her shoulder, and plodded to the door.

  2. My mind geared up with the freshly brewed morning coffee as I realised the quietness in the house. Deathly quiet.
    I told her the secret last night. I had to, she bullied it out of me with her pleading and whining. John had left for the airport a day before and Pappy lived over ten kilometres away, so I had no worries she would tell. Or did I?
    An empty house. So, she’d gone to tell Pappy. But how? Her punctured bike lay in the garage and she hated walking. One look around and I realised she’d taken…the space hopper.
    I climbed into the car and sped down the road towards Pappy’s. Over ten kilometres on a space hopper? I passed by a few cars going the other way until I spotted something ahead. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Some way in front, a long-haired Maddy bounded along on a red sphere of rubber.
    I stopped the car on the hard shoulder and watched her go, making distance along the almost empty highway wearing only her morning tights and slippers, the urge to tell stronger than the need to dress. I gave up the chase, she deserved it.

  3. The gallery was filled to the brim this evening. A new piece by the gallery’s most famed artist was to be revealed tonight. Her art had put the gallery on the map and her pieces sold for thousands at auction. The event drew quite the crowd of connoisseurs and other high-society types.

    A caterer put on a fresh pot of coffee by the refreshments stand and watched as a crowd gathered at the main display.

    At the stroke of midnight the curtain fell away from a large piece under spotlights. Seen was a sepia-tone image of a road, a small car, and a girl bouncing up the road on a ball. The crowd murmured with delight. Conversations about the meaning, the majesty, and the significance of the piece flowed from every mouth.

    Back at the refreshments stand a woman walked up to the caterer and asked for a cup of coffee.

    “You are missing the main event lady.”

    “Yeah? Let me let you in on a secret.”

    “What’s that?”

    “I took that picture with my iphone, super-imposed the girl there, and blew it up at Kinkos. It has absolutely no meaning.”

    “So then…”

    “Those idiots are what’s really on display.”

  4. It wasn’t that I ran away; I hopped away.

    My mother had gone mental about 1) allowing me to listen to Elvis at a proper volume, 2) insisting lights-out was 9:30, 3) saying I couldn’t shop downtown with my friends (instead of her) on Saturdays and, the final straw: 4) making me take back the girdle. I was the only girl in the world who kept up stockings (lisle, not nylon!!!) with an old-fashioned garter-belt.

    Parents don’t realise that nowadays thirteen is grown up. Nowadays? in Medieval times, I’d be married already. Not that I want to be married. Not yet. Besides, I’m going to be a brain surgeon. Or maybe a hairdresser.

    I rushed outside after screaming at my mother that she could take that girdle back if she insisted, but I bloody wasn’t going to. ‘Bloody’? Oh, boy. I had to disappear like fast.

    I grabbed my brother’s moon-hopper and off I went.

    I actually got as far as the next town. I went into a café there and the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit me. The smell of home.

    Dad came to get me.

    I’ve got to tell you (but don’t you dare tell Mum), the girdle was hot and horribly tight. Good riddance.

    • The voice on the protagonist here is spot on–and the framing with the girdle (given the hemming nature of girdles anyway) a delicious irony.

  5. The Office Party.

    Jenny wrapped her hands around the mug of hot coffee; it’s steam caressing her face with the smell.
    How was she going to tell Frank?
    How could she burst the bubble of twenty years of marriage? Tell him that she had been unfaithful? That she had had sex with the delicious Don, fifteen years her junior, last night, up against a brick wall, in the alley behind the venue for the office party. She had been just a little too drunk!
    She was just going to have to tell him, before it destroyed her!
    Frank bounced into the kitchen, hair spiky from sleep.
    “Guess what?” he enthused. “I had a great dream last night!”
    “Mmmm?” She took a sip of the coffee.
    Frank was beaming.
    “I saw you, – on a ball, bouncing down the road like a kangaroo! What fun! I was driving the car coming in the opposite direction – I just HAD to stop!” He came over and wrapped his arms about her still body.
    “God! I love you,” he gushed into her hair.
    Jenny pushed the coffee out of the way as he pulled her to her feet and led her back to the bedroom.
    The secret would have to wait.

  6. Special guests

    Well, now most folk don’t know what I’m fixin’ to tell you, but I’m just bustin’ a gut to tell you what happened AFTER Dorothy returned home from the land of Oz.

    For months after Dorothy showed up back home, she was all depressed and moping around, and I can’t say as I blame her much. After being exposed to such a fantastical place as Oz, who would be happy back in plain old drab Kansas?

    Well, it’d been a few months, and then, one day who do you reckon showed up on our doorstep but Glenda, the good witch of the East; and she had some luggage in tow.

    She commences to tellin’ us about how things had changed back in Oz, and how Dorothy had told her, “If ya ever need a place to stay … any time”
    So, we took her in.

    Oh it’s been a riot having her in the house with us. That woman can cook … Oh I’m sorry. Where’s my manners? Here, now, have cup of fresh brewed coffee. What? We’re out of creamer? Dorothy, run on over to the store and fetch some creamer. Yea sure, Glenda’ll take ya.”

    Like I was sayin’ …

  7. Next time, Choose Truth
    Danielle Lee Zwissler
    Carrie and Alisha were sitting on her bed cross-legged. “Truth or Dare?” Carrie asked, grinning from ear-to-ear.
    Carrie’s smile widened if possible. “Okay, did you kiss Sam Grendale?”
    Alisha’s eyes bugged out. “Um,”
    “You have to tell the truth,” Carrie reminded her.
    “Yes. But it was just a little peck and it was on the cheek not the lips like he is telling everyone.”
    Carrie laughed. “I can’t believe you did that! How was it?”
    “You better use that for your next truth question,” Alisha said, laughing. “Okay, truth or dare?”
    “Okay, I dare you to go outside on the bouncy ball and bounce naked down the road for thirty seconds.”
    “What? No way! I can’t do that.”
    “You said dare, and you have to do it, unless you want an even harder truth.”
    Carrie thought about it, and she knew Alisha could be just wicked with her truth questions, that’s why she said dare in the first place.” Carrie took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll do it.” She stood up, checked the living room to see if her parents were still sleeping, and then grabbed the bouncy. “My mom will shit if she sees me doing this.”
    “Who’s going to see it’s so dark out there.”
    Carrie rolled her eyes and made her way outside, Alisha followed. Carrie stripped down to her birthday suit and then hurried up and got the ball. Alisha was laughing so hard, her counting was shaky at best.
    Just then, when Carrie was about halfway to her destination, a car with its lights on full blast came right toward her, illuminating Carrie and her shiny butt the entire way to her house!
    “Holy shit! I think it’s…it’s your mom!”
    Carrie took the ball and her naked self through the back yard as Alisha let her in her bedroom window. “Hurry!” she said, giggling.
    Carrie’s eyes widened as she realized her clothes were still outside. “I left my clothes!”
    Alisha was nearly rolling on the floor by this time.
    “It’s not funny!”
    “Oh yes it is!”
    The next morning, Carrie and Alisha went out to the kitchen, following the scent of freshly brewed coffee. Carrie’s Dad was reading the newspaper, and her mom was at the counter, holding Carrie’s underwear in her hand with a smirk on her face.
    “Lose something?”

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