Results of U-Write-It Week 286
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Jennifer began pedaling furiously, trying to ignore the terrible...
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...hissing and squawking punctuating Bach's fugue. Brown bags crackled rudely, whispers pierced her eardrums. With her back to the audience, no one could see her scarlet face.
Lunchtime concerts were her only opportunity to play the massive Hook and Hastings organ. Jennifer was in love with its history, its grandeur, its deep rumbling vibrato. Unfortunately, as with all grand dames, the organ was getting "of a certain age" and beginning to show her wrinkles and warts.
Like the invisible flaws one sees in a magnifying mirror, sitting on the bench offered more than Jennifer's ear really wanted to hear. However, shutting out the minutiae of unnecessary sounds, she immersed herself in the swell of Bach's genius.
Too soon, the final notes vibrated into stillness. Absolute silence.
Jennifer sighed, rose, and turned toward her audience.
No one was there.
Gleaming through the rippled window glass, the setting sun winked goodnight.
by Daphne Rice, Portland, OR
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...stench of dead fish floating on the brackish water.
"Some picnic," sniffed Alfred. "I hope this putridity doesn't permeate my clothing."
"Less puffery, more pedaling!" Jennifer snarled at him.
Gently rocking back and forth, the pedalo picked up speed as both cousins pedaled more rapidly across the lake.
Flouncing out of the boathouse, Jennifer glared back at Alfred. "Bring the picnic basket!" Disgusted with his lunchtime comments, she would have nothing to do with him for the remainder of his stay.
Alfred wrinkled his nose as he looked around at the rundown fishing resort where Jennifer's family now lived.
Hesitating only a moment, he pitched the still-laden basket into the festering lake. "Gahhh! And she had to make sandwiches out of nasty old tuna!"
by Ric Hardson, USA
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...storm rolling in from above the teal-colored waves. The light sprays of ocean mist danced across her face, the humidity saturated her hair, causing it to wave and curl. At 12, Jennifer was old enough to care about her appearance, but too young to negotiate the innumerable products that could salvage this coiffure.
As she pedaled, Jennifer continued looking back toward the sound, watching the charcoal clouds intimidate even the most dedicated beach-goers. As the first rumblings of thunder raised the final alarm that the storm was insisting it infiltrate, more bikers joined Jennifer in the departure.
The wind picked up, wreaking havoc on fragile tree limbs and empty trash cans, a terrible symphony of threat and power. Jennifer struggled with the screen door to her parents house, taking care to latch it securely as she passed through. The Carolina winds could cure any home of its doors.
by Elizabeth Greenlea, WC, PA
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...crashing noise behind her as the yacht, pieces of it spinning into the air, flipped and rolled its way down the hill,
She knew she would not outrun the doomed craft, but could only hope it would take a weird bounce and either go over her head, or change course drastically and roll away to either side.
I hope it rolls over Ricardo, she thought, pedaling even faster. Him and his stupid gravity-will-hold-it-on-the-trailer theory!
by Phillip Lynne, Knoxville, TN
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