This week’s word prompt: green.

Please post your 200 words (no more!) by clicking the comments link at the bottom of this post, keeping in mind The Rules.  Next Sunday evening 7/14/13, last week’s winner John Dutterer will read the entries and select a winner.

[Click the comments link below to read entries and discussion.]


12 thoughts on “green

  1. The First Month

    In the circus of her face, a smile juggled down to me, down here in the crib, in the affectionate canyons of blankets, under the room-temperature arctic whiteness of ceilings, within the sounds of domestic machinery lulling my body, permeated by salty odors, my skin still electric with the beautiful trauma of being born
    The light descending through the windows is itself green with all the branches extending from me, outward in the direction of a lifetime

  2. Two weeks in the desert had swallowed us. We lived by the dull pulse of our horses’ plodding, silent sway over ground that went on and on. We covered no distance, only time. Time in this deathless and unending, yet still lifeless eternity of dry camps, without water. Of course, we’d nearly forgotten what water was. Dust, grit and seared air, all faded – no, perhaps none of this had ever possessed color.
    Coming through the pass through those miserable hills, rounding the last boulders, suddenly everything shifted. Nothing moved but us, but everything changed in some way so vibrant, so puissant that the difference could only be a shift, an alteration that encompassed movement. Everything was green. The air was vitality soaked green; the grass, trees, water – yes, water – everything had vibrancy that simply radiated living.
    That old preacher man, years back, had mentioned something about a new heavens and a new earth. Maybe he meant something akin to this. It was like leaving death and entering life. The dust suddenly stopped lurking. The bronze misery of the last hour vanished. We found blessed coolness and vigor so fresh that even breathing suddenly held a rapturous fascination.

  3. These entries are both so lovely! I do not envy John Dutterer the task of judging them, but to make it easier on him, I plan to submit my own inferior entry. I’m still ruminating though, casting about for a concept.

  4. In California, they say, it never rains; but when it rains, it pours! Not quite true. We get maybe two or three good downpours a year, along with maybe 10-20 days of drizzle, all confined to a few-month “rainy season” from Dec to Feb. Another saying goes “April showers bring May flowers.” But around here, it’s more like “February rain brings March green.”

    Hiking or biking in San Diego in March is beautiful. Winding through craggy canyons dripping and lush, you could convince yourself you were in Ireland. Or wide flat swaths of high grass could be the African veldt, where antelopes and lions hide from each other in their continual deadly dance.

    But it doesn’t last long; like the changing of the leaves in the Northeast, blink your eyes and it’s gone, the green life having given way to fuzzy tan hills, pimpled with boulders.

  5. I enjoyed the vivid imagery of Elihu’s “The First Month” and RubeRad’s spot-on reminiscences of San Diego, a place I love very much. The winner, however, is Pooka. His piece emanates the most “green” for me. Go on, Pooka, pick a word!

    1. WOOT! I can’t take all the credit. I was writing about the greatest parts of Creation for me. I love the desert and especially the bridge between. So it was almost easy to craft this one up. Thank you, Mr. Dutterer.

      So I’ll take one right from there. Vital. Write on that one, friends!

  6. The Quest

    It was an unfamiliar grocery store, my first visit there, in fact. The time was 10 PM; possibly I was the only one shopping at that hour. Looking back, I cannot recall what I had gone there for, but it definitely wasn’t apples. That’s where I wound up, all the same. The usual red, robust apples were on sale, but then there were the tart green ones and the somewhat mealy yellow ones as well. Somehow I began to sense that this was important, perhaps it was even a vital decision for me. Getting some of each was never a consideration, it was about selecting the crucial apple, the One. And maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that I did.
    The dark red apple in my hand had a fingernail indentation in it, obviously female. This was an outrage against decency. No I did not put it back, it was imperative that I buy this one. But make no mistake, I would travel anywhere I needed to, I would find this woman, and perhaps there would be vengeance, or else there might be love. That is precisely what I mean to find out.

    1. Green AND Vital! I want to read the rest of this story!

      And I want to know what has happened to our fearless leader; I poked him with an email on Sunday and have not heard back…

Post a 200-Word Entry, or Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s