Sometimes, when words are hard to find, my writing group plays a little game. We spin for prompts, which are just words or phrases that have been plucked from various sources and added to a numbered list, and then see what we can write that includes one or all of the prompts.
Occasionally, the resulting scene is actually relevant to the work-in-progress; other times it just serves to open the floodgates and remind you that you can still write.
Regardless of outcome, the games are always fun. And writing is supposed to be that, isn’t it!
This Sunday is Easter. So I was looking for Easter hats for Rose. [As an aside, don’t you wish hats would come back in vogue? All those frilly Easter hats, especially from the 40s, look like so much fun.]
But, back to the matter at hand… As I was saying, I was looking for Easter hats, perusing the Sears Catalog when a phrase I saw as I whizzed through pages stopped me in my tracks. Continue reading
Description Charming face looks its best under the chic silhouetted lines of this model. Suave lines copied from a high-priced import, in a pleasingly soft, good quality wool felt. Shaped in low helmet fashion at sides; close-cropped at back for utmost coat-collar ease. The soft-rolling, graduated brim is clipped in two-tab effect at side and edged with finely plaited grosgrain ribbon matching the band with cut loop ends. Double-ended rhinestone pins flash from tabs.
This lovely Lido¹ hat was Continue reading
Charlie let the silk float over his fingertips, trying not to imagine the contours of Rose’s leg as the stocking slid past calf and thigh. Damn! He was supposed to be helping Harold find a Christmas gift for Rose, not coveting the man’s wife.
Hanlon’s was a smallish store, but they offered a good variety of merchandise. Surely there was something less… personal…
“Did you find something, Charlie? What’s that?”
Charlie dropped the hosiery as if on fire. “Ahhh…” he stammered. “Just the perfect gift for a man to give his wife.” He pointed to the display, not daring to touch the elegant gossamer again lest Harold notice the wanton lust on his face.
Harold’s eyes, however, were riveted to the display ad. “‘Holeproof silk hose with Paris clox.’ A dollar ninety-five? Geez, Charlie, I can’t afford that.”
That didn’t stop him from exploring the silken heaven for himself, though, and Charlie watched as the look on Harold’s face changed from sensible farmer to starry-eyed husband.
If the man didn’t already have Rose, Charlie’d feel sorry for him.
Poor Harold. Continue reading