So I didn’t work on Abigail at all this week but when I was at The Last Word (a used bookstore around the corner from my house) I came up with this poem with refrigerated magnets. Anything that I think needs to be added will have [brackets] unless it’s punctuation, that will just be added. I may revisit this, I liked the idea of how it came about and I like the outcome (hope you do too). Enjoy and I promise to give a big Abigail piece, just give me a little time :)
Make this dream whisper rain
Time[’s] story has change[d]
Fresh green memor[ies] fall up
[The] sound where moon walkest
Beautiful [and] horrible he flew
From ocean[s] they cry [out]
“Read write world!
Toy for real want, friend.
Nice would cloud[s]
Had we but to like by which we love.
Good, cold boy.”
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Abigail (part two)
Sorry it’s a lot late-busy weekend and a fair few assignments. I'll try to post this weekend too.
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“Surprise!! Bahahaha!” started a voice from behind the pile of mystery novels that Abigail was shelving.
“Janie!” Abigail said, thrusting the books into the open space and rushing to hug her friend. “Oh it’s so good to see you! And look how big you’ve gotten!”
“Please, don’t remind me.” Janie said with a little flippant tone. “He’s getting so big-I have to pee every five minutes because he’s smooshed(sp) up against my bladder.”
Grabbing Janie’s hand Abigail leads them to her break room, away from the annoyed library goers. “You know you love it.” Abigail said after closing the door. “That’s why you and Ronald have Bree and Tinsley. Coffee?”
“Oh, no. Not with this little tyke bouncing around.” Janie said while sitting down. “So how are you and what’s-his-face doing? Still wonderfully non-exclusive?”
Sighing, Abigail poured herself a cup of coffee and added a little bit of cream, she was cutting her sugar intake so skipped her normal two spoonfuls of sugar. “Cliff has been riding my case about his abrasive mother coming to town. She hates me and makes my life as miserable as possible while she’s here and he does nothing to help me! It would be nice if he could just stand up for me just once-”
“I’ve told you to break up with him. That foul, pitiful excuse for a man. I don’t understand why you’re still dating him. You know you can do better-why not that Jason fellow? The one that would sneak an extra scone in your order at the Tea Pot? He’s so nice. You know he and Ronald have hung out a couple of times, Ronald really enjoys it.”
“I can’t,” Abigail said as she sat down across from her hugely pregnant friend.
“Yes you can! It really isn’t that hard.” Janie said, slamming her hands down on the table top. “You want to know what hard is? Heartburn radiating to my ankles and two three year olds who insist on watching Enchanted every waking hour! After the hundred and twentieth time even James Marsden’s smile and charming ways begin to grind on your nerves.”
Abigail snorted into her mug of coffee, getting the hot liquid up her nose a little. “You know you love some singing Scott Summers, Janie.” She said grabbing a napkin from the counter behind her to clean the coffee from her nose. “And that’s different. You love your girls so much that a talking chipmunk really doesn’t bother you-”
“That’s my point Abbey! I love my girls. And I know you don’t love Cliff. He’s a tool-you’ve said it before.”
“Abigail!!!” called out a voice from the other side of the break room door.
Abigail and Janie looked at one another, Janie rolled her eyes and Abigail chugged the rest of her bitter coffee. “Looks like you’ve got to run Abby. You really should get pregnant-not by Cliff though. Then you’ll get some time off and we can actually talk.”
“Thursday night, I’m free if you are.” Abigail said. “I’ll make your new favorite. Pulled pork drenched in vinegar.”
Janie laughed, getting up and buttoning her coat up, “Off course I’ll be there. Make sure you make some bangin’ coleslaw.”
“For your cravings, anything.”
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“Surprise!! Bahahaha!” started a voice from behind the pile of mystery novels that Abigail was shelving.
“Janie!” Abigail said, thrusting the books into the open space and rushing to hug her friend. “Oh it’s so good to see you! And look how big you’ve gotten!”
“Please, don’t remind me.” Janie said with a little flippant tone. “He’s getting so big-I have to pee every five minutes because he’s smooshed(sp) up against my bladder.”
Grabbing Janie’s hand Abigail leads them to her break room, away from the annoyed library goers. “You know you love it.” Abigail said after closing the door. “That’s why you and Ronald have Bree and Tinsley. Coffee?”
“Oh, no. Not with this little tyke bouncing around.” Janie said while sitting down. “So how are you and what’s-his-face doing? Still wonderfully non-exclusive?”
Sighing, Abigail poured herself a cup of coffee and added a little bit of cream, she was cutting her sugar intake so skipped her normal two spoonfuls of sugar. “Cliff has been riding my case about his abrasive mother coming to town. She hates me and makes my life as miserable as possible while she’s here and he does nothing to help me! It would be nice if he could just stand up for me just once-”
“I’ve told you to break up with him. That foul, pitiful excuse for a man. I don’t understand why you’re still dating him. You know you can do better-why not that Jason fellow? The one that would sneak an extra scone in your order at the Tea Pot? He’s so nice. You know he and Ronald have hung out a couple of times, Ronald really enjoys it.”
“I can’t,” Abigail said as she sat down across from her hugely pregnant friend.
“Yes you can! It really isn’t that hard.” Janie said, slamming her hands down on the table top. “You want to know what hard is? Heartburn radiating to my ankles and two three year olds who insist on watching Enchanted every waking hour! After the hundred and twentieth time even James Marsden’s smile and charming ways begin to grind on your nerves.”
Abigail snorted into her mug of coffee, getting the hot liquid up her nose a little. “You know you love some singing Scott Summers, Janie.” She said grabbing a napkin from the counter behind her to clean the coffee from her nose. “And that’s different. You love your girls so much that a talking chipmunk really doesn’t bother you-”
“That’s my point Abbey! I love my girls. And I know you don’t love Cliff. He’s a tool-you’ve said it before.”
“Abigail!!!” called out a voice from the other side of the break room door.
Abigail and Janie looked at one another, Janie rolled her eyes and Abigail chugged the rest of her bitter coffee. “Looks like you’ve got to run Abby. You really should get pregnant-not by Cliff though. Then you’ll get some time off and we can actually talk.”
“Thursday night, I’m free if you are.” Abigail said. “I’ll make your new favorite. Pulled pork drenched in vinegar.”
Janie laughed, getting up and buttoning her coat up, “Off course I’ll be there. Make sure you make some bangin’ coleslaw.”
“For your cravings, anything.”
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Frolicsome-it's the word of the day!
November-new month, new objective. Meet Abigail, we'll be following her for the next three weeks ;)
It's kind of embarrassing how I came up with her. I wanted to use the word of the day andI was listening to the Harry Potter Score for the latest movie (I'm a dork) and one song on it was light, bubbly, and very much like the word of the day-frolicsome! Hope you like it! Feel free to leave comments below.
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Have you had that naughty little feeling one gets when you know you’re doing something wrong but you don’t care because it’s so wonderfully frolicsome? Like terrifying the neighbors annoying four year old or jumping through knee-deep mud puddles just to get the gooiness in your shoes.
Little (well, not so little anymore) Abigail knew what these feelings felt like. Ever since Abigail moved in with her Aunt Trina when she was six that’s all she had ever been. Mischievous. She would do things like dig up the carrots in the garden so the bunnies could get to them better (Abigail didn’t think that the bunnies could squeeze their chubby bunny bottoms through the wire). Or like how she would paint the white fence a rainbow of colors, even if it was only watercolors that she painted with.
Abigail’s antics went so far as to the classroom causing her to be misunderstood by some of her classmates. One day in the first grade, during art class, Abigail and the other students were painting and Miss Prinkle told the class to “Paint their dreams.”
A little boy across from Abigail, Johnny Turner, told the small girl beside Abigail that her giraffe was wrong. The girl had created sloppy lines that ran onto the table in the form of a pink and watery green giraffe munching away on some blueberries. Without missing a beat Abigail said, “They’re her dreams. If Miss Prinkle wanted them to be like the giraffes at the zoo she would have said so!” That afternoon at recess Abigail and the small girl sat in the timeout corner because Johnny Turner was a tattle-tale and blamed both of them. Abigail felt like she hadn’t done anything wrong this time-it was so unfair.
“Thank you,” the small girl had said, handing Abigail the giraffe picture. “My name’s Janie.”
Ever since that day Abigail and Janie had been best friends. Abigail still had the picture of the giraffe in her keepsake box.
Days like Abigail’s childhood were over though; they had been for twenty-one years. So why did she all of a sudden have this feeling of impish playfulness while filing away books at the Rosemary Public Library?
It's kind of embarrassing how I came up with her. I wanted to use the word of the day andI was listening to the Harry Potter Score for the latest movie (I'm a dork) and one song on it was light, bubbly, and very much like the word of the day-frolicsome! Hope you like it! Feel free to leave comments below.
*************************************************************************
Have you had that naughty little feeling one gets when you know you’re doing something wrong but you don’t care because it’s so wonderfully frolicsome? Like terrifying the neighbors annoying four year old or jumping through knee-deep mud puddles just to get the gooiness in your shoes.
Little (well, not so little anymore) Abigail knew what these feelings felt like. Ever since Abigail moved in with her Aunt Trina when she was six that’s all she had ever been. Mischievous. She would do things like dig up the carrots in the garden so the bunnies could get to them better (Abigail didn’t think that the bunnies could squeeze their chubby bunny bottoms through the wire). Or like how she would paint the white fence a rainbow of colors, even if it was only watercolors that she painted with.
Abigail’s antics went so far as to the classroom causing her to be misunderstood by some of her classmates. One day in the first grade, during art class, Abigail and the other students were painting and Miss Prinkle told the class to “Paint their dreams.”
A little boy across from Abigail, Johnny Turner, told the small girl beside Abigail that her giraffe was wrong. The girl had created sloppy lines that ran onto the table in the form of a pink and watery green giraffe munching away on some blueberries. Without missing a beat Abigail said, “They’re her dreams. If Miss Prinkle wanted them to be like the giraffes at the zoo she would have said so!” That afternoon at recess Abigail and the small girl sat in the timeout corner because Johnny Turner was a tattle-tale and blamed both of them. Abigail felt like she hadn’t done anything wrong this time-it was so unfair.
“Thank you,” the small girl had said, handing Abigail the giraffe picture. “My name’s Janie.”
Ever since that day Abigail and Janie had been best friends. Abigail still had the picture of the giraffe in her keepsake box.
Days like Abigail’s childhood were over though; they had been for twenty-one years. So why did she all of a sudden have this feeling of impish playfulness while filing away books at the Rosemary Public Library?
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