Writing Successes: I didn't do a darn thing in writing. Except the blog. It counts, it was nearly 2k.

Music Playing: KINK's Light's Out. It's over, however, so I think I'll pop in the Doors here. LA Woman, in fact. I'm in a Doors kind of mood.

In fact, the mood is so strong, the movie's in the video player, the music's on the radio, and the lyric book is under my elbow. Jadea posts lyrics quite frequently in her blog, and I felt like sharing some myself. I enjoy Morrison's work because its non-linear. It has to be absorbed, not understood. I like that in my poetry and in my music.

From: Texas Radio and the Big Beat #2 (From "The Doors: In Concert", the Celebration of the Lizard set) exerpt only

Children
The river contains specimens
THe voices of singing women call us on the far shore
And they are saying:
Forget the night
Live with us in forests of azure

Meager food for souls forgot

I'll tell you this . . .
No eternal reward will forgive us now
For wasting the dawn

Which about sums up my mood this evening. Hey, at least I'm not hostile. I'm kind of on a higher level than that now. I've moved beyond, past, risen above, and am lost in the heavens somewhere. Least for right now. I'm sure I'll be fine once I sleep.

That all said and done, here's the "ew" I wrote for yesterday's Sunday Brunch prompts. Just don't ask to see what I've done for my article. I think I wrote a title...

Write about something that happened to you, from someone else’s perspective. 10 min

She was so sad, he thought.

They sat in the darkness, the music playing the same slow music over and over. It was one of her favorites, a melancholy tune about the strength of love and the loss of it. He’d never really paid attention to it before.

He heard her sniffling. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her cry before. It was disturbing. She was usually stronger than this.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t find her,” he said as the music wafted away on a final note.

“It’s not your fault,” she replied, her voice raw with tears both shed and unshed. He saw her replace the needle on the record again, replaying the same song. “I just need to have my moment. I call it, living through the blues. You let yourself go through and then you come out the other side.”

He nodded, but doubted she could see that. “C’mere,” he said. He rolled a little closer on the carpet, gathering her into his arms. She snuggled down against his chest, her hair under his chin.

He felt her shake a little as she allowed a few more tears to escape her. “It’s okay,” he said. “Go ahead.”

She pushed away just a little and looked up. Her brown eyes were wet pools in the unlit room, full of the pain of loss.

Then something shifted. He felt something change inside himself just for a moment. A yearning for something he hadn’t realized he wanted. The music egged him on and he leaned toward her.

She leaned toward him ever so slightly in return, responding in kind to this unexpected pull. Her eyes lowered and closed.

Describe an everyday scene or event in an interesting way. 10 min

She picked up another paintbrush. It was wider than the one before, it would make bolder strokes. She pulled it across the canvas and watched as orange and blue and green melted like a cheese sandwich in a hot frying pan.

She smiled. This was getting good.

She changed the color on her palette. She went with a red, but a blood red. A bold red would be the perfect shade to swirl into this painting of a sunset.

The brush slathered the dark color into the picture, and the sky came alive with color. She added another few strokes, the brush shifting in her hand, creating different lengths and shapes of colors.

Too much! She thought in a panic. She switched to an off white and changed her brush to a flat and wide one, much smaller than the bold brush.

She created clouds of white to hide the bold of the red.

Describe the scene or setting for one of the two prompts above. 10 min

The long living room was empty, except for the stereo. The couch and chairs were in the family room in the back of the house, with the television and her mother. He could just hear the sound of the TV chattering above the music.

The darkness hid the dingy walls and the ancient pile carpeting they lay on. It was an old house, in need of much repair and renewing. But they were a poor family, struggling to get along on a weak divorce settlement and a paltry child support check.

He didn’t mind. It was part of her appeal, this money shortage. She was too proud to ask him for anything, but she accepted everything he had to give. And he loved to give.

The speakers loomed in the dark room, one on each side of the low, hand-made, wooden coffee table. The stereo system was at odds with the shabbiness of the room, being new and shiny, a bright spot in the dinginess of the room. It had been a new purchase of her father’s, a trophy for her mother.

A light flared on in the kitchen, the yellow glare making him blink and turn away. It illuminated the stairwell to his friend’s floor, a steep set of poorly carpeted stairs leading to two rooms and a bath.

End
Hope you enjoyed. But hey, you can comment that you hated it, too. I think the last two sucked. And thanks so much to Kou for the reminder that got me going for the first one there. LOL.