Monday Musings: Chary's thoughts on A-Z 2013 Challenge

I'm really excited about this A-Z Challenge.  I attempted them in the past and never really pulled through to the end.  Okay, I abysmally failed after the first week.  Like a paradigm shift, I realized where I went wrong- I didn't PLAN AHEAD.  I don't have an explanation why nor do I even understand how this incredibly essential component of a month-long bloghop eluded me for so long. 

However, this has been remedied.  So far, I have decided on the theme, drabbles and photographs.  By doing this now, there will be more time for me to visit blogs in April.  



Drabble- n. story told in exactly 100 words.
Word-count Tool


I will be participating on the A-Z 2013 Challenge on Bronx Tales & Inner Musings.  Come and join the fun!  For more information, please click here.

Take care,
Chary

Free For All Fridays: Attraction and Compliments

The Old, Old Story
by John William Godward
Image attribution



"Hello, awe-inspiring, rising sun," croons the well-groomed young gentleman.

"Is that your absolute best use of flattery?  I have heard better," replies the alluring young woman. 

"You have not given me a chance fair princess." assures the gentleman.

"I am no princess.  I'm an educated young maiden who would be most pleased if you would remove yourself from her presence.  And yes, I am speaking a bit discourteously but it is simply because you have vexed me on this early morning," she exclaims with mild annoyance.

"My apologies.  I didn't mean to offend," he states, leaving her with a flower.



Word-count Tool
Drabble- n. a story written in exactly 100 words.

Advent Calendar

That time of the year, when that already scarce quantity becomes even more scarce. You know what I am talking about- TIME. The holidays just soak up so much of your time, you are forced to put everything except the absolute essentials in the backburner. When you don't have time to do anything, least of all put your feet up, and READ!

But this being Reading Monday, we are honour bound to give you a bunch of reading recommendations. And we shall not disappoint. However busy you are, however very, very, very busy, surely you have one minute to spare? Yes, just one teeny weeny minute. Of course you do. If nothing else, you can make those 60 seconds between sips of your chai, coffee, latte, vodka.......

Click across to The Burrow, and enjoy one drabble a day, everyday in the month of December, as we count down to the New Year. There are drabbles that will make you laugh, drabbles that will make you cry. Drabbles that would make you sneer, drabbles that would make you cheer. There are even drabbles that will stay with you all day, forcing you to think. But every single one of those drabbles will be exactly 100 words long, and none of them will take up more than 60 seconds of your reading time.

So what are you waiting for? Click on ahead!!!

Topical Tuesday: Nighthawks and Winners

Lisa reaches over the counter for her coffee.  She looks earnestly at Robert and asks,"Will we ever get out of this mess?"

"I don't know.  It's been a long time since I've found work.  I'm too old to join the war."  Robert sighs heavily and looks into his cup for answers.

"I can always take an extra shift at the factory or put in a good word with the boss for you.  Maybe he'll take you on," Lisa looks at Robert with hope.

"Yeah, maybe," he replies dejectedly.

Sixty odd years later, and our financial woes are still the same.




Drabble- a story told in exactly 100 words.
Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons, Nighthawks by Edward Hopper (1942).


December Drabble Dare Results
The following are the drabble authors included in the Burrow's December project, Advent Calendar:

December 8th- Abigail Reed
December 16- Anonymous (Don't be shy and tell us who you are!)
December 24th- Tamika Perez
December 30th- Marian Youngblood

Congrats to all the drabble writers!  Be sure to visit us at The Burrow beginning on December 1st.  No peeking!  :D

Writing Wednesday: December Drabble Contest

That's right, people.  It is that time of year again!

December means so many different things to people around the world. It could mean Winter Solstice, Christmas, Winter Wonderland, New Years' and everything else we can think of.  To most, it is "The Holidays."

In December, The Burrow will be hosting our annual Advent Calendar.

All you have to do is to write a drabble in exactly 100 words based on any/all of these photographs, and email it to 'theburrow360@gmail.com' by November 26, 2011. The winning entries for each of the images will be featured in the December feature.


So here are the images to choose from:

Poinsettias

Peace Tower at Christmas

Winter Wonderland

Advent Wreath

And just for fun- Snowhenge

Good luck and happy writing!



All images are courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Topical Tuesday: Light up the Darkness

Light up the Darkness

When I was a little girl, the world seemed bright with endless possibilities. I didn't comprehend the magnitude of living in the 1980's South Bronx .  Then during my teen years, the storm clouds rolled in, the days turned to gray and the nights became tumultuous.  From my father's drug abuse to my mother's mental illness, the uncertainty of my future was unbearable.  Living in poverty did not help much either.  However, it allowed me to keep in perspective what I value most: love from family, friends, a role model who cared and most of all, learning to love myself unconditionally.   






Drabble- a story told in exactly 100 words.
The image above can be found at Wikimedia Commons.

Lessons from the A to Z blogging Challenge

On Arithmetic

A lot of you probably know that I run (and those of you who don't - now you do). Unlike my fellow running burrowers (Hart and Leanne), however, I started running only when I was well into my late 30s. Though I love running, I am not particularly fast, even after making allowances for my age and the fact that I started late. But what I lack in speed, I make up in tenacity - if I start something, I finish it, somehow.

Which was what I did during my first (and only) full marathon. Less than six months before the race, my hypothyroidism had been diagnosed, and I had subsequently gone through a hysterectomy. A couple of weeks before the race, I had fallen ill again, and was struggling to even climb stairs. And yet, come race day, I pinned up my bib, laced up my running shoes, and lined up with three thousand others at the start line. Less than mid-way into the race, I realised I could either keep running, or finish the race - I couldn't do both. I chose to start walking. Two-thirds into the race, the road was thrown open to traffic, and I got off the road and onto the pavement. People all around me dropped out, but my feet took on a life of their own and refused to stop till I crossed the finish line.

On Bucket lists

This year's A to Z Challenge was no different from my first full marathon. My life was spiraling out of control when I signed up for it, but I hoped I would get some order into it by April. In the second half of March, I was thinking of taking a sabbatical from blogdom, because I could just not manage all the things that I was required to do. But before I could formally announce by break, April was upon me, and I decided to write a drabble "On Arithmetic", and take every day as it came. On April 2, I had no idea what I was going to write about, and wasn't even planning to push myself to think of an appropriate B post- but out of nowhere, a drabble "On Bucket lists" floated into my brain, and almost wrote itself.

The rest of the month was no different. On most days, till lunch-time I would not have any idea what I was going to write about, but by evening, an idea would germinate, and the drabble would get written. Twenty-six non-Sunday days, twenty-six drabbles. None pre-scheduled. All posted before dinnertime. Almost all of them exactly 100 words on first attempt.

On Zero

It was only when I reflected on it after the month was over that I realised the magnitude of what I had accomplished. For no reason other than sheer necessity, I had converted myself into a reliable drabble machine. Whether it was an internal editor at work, or a writer who had exactly understood her brief, it was almost incredible that the first draft was always between 97 and 106 words long, and those few words took only a minute or two to get added or subtracted (or both simultaneously).

Which only goes to show that writing is a skill like any other, and practice does make you get better and better at it. If I could do it for the A to Z Challenge, I wonder why I can't do it otherwise. Maybe I just have to force myself into a chair for half an hour a day, Everyday!

The Burrow Advent Calendar - 2010

Two years back, the Burrow mounted the "Advent Calendar" for the first time. An interactive feature, you could click on a drabble a day, everyday, leading upto Christmas. We hosted the project again, with a new set of drabbles last year.

This year, however, we are breaking tradition slightly- in our Advent Calendar we are counting down, not to Christmas, but to the New Year.

In addition to the Burrowers, most of whom you know intimately from this blog, Jan Morrison has contributed two drabbles, both accompanied by her stunning photographs. We also have the four drabbles that were chosen as the winners of the Drabble Dare # 11, one of which has already been revealed.

Do check out the Project, and be sure to book-mark the page so you can get your drabble a day, everyday.

Happy Reading.

Shameless Plugging

Life is about choices. There are times when you will have to make a decision, no matter how hard you try to avoid it, or how difficult the choice might be. Sometimes the path you choose will be littered with heartache; sometimes the path will bring infinite joy. There's even the path that leads to happiness, but not without a few bumps along the way.

The question is, what should we choose? Should we pick the easy path, or the harder route? Is happiness sweeter if we have struggled for it? Maybe, maybe not.

Either way, the choice is yours.

Huh? What's this? Well, this is a drabble that I wrote for The Burrow's Prismatic Feature for October, but it ended up being surplus to requirements. Today the last drabble will be available for viewing, and will bring the total number of drabbles to thirty-one for the month of October (one for every day, aren't we good?). The feature will be on our home page for all of November, so please visit if you haven't done so already. I'm sure there's something to suit everyone's tastes, with the added advantage of being able to view any and all at your leisure.


See you tomorrow, which is the start of a new month, and also the start of a slightly different Burrowers, Books & Balderdash!

The Burrowers' Prismatic Feature

At the Burrow, we are featuring a lovely and vibrant myriad of color images accompanied by drabbles. Here is a little glimpse from our resident Burrower who will not hesitate to peel off layers and proclaim from the mountaintops that nudity allows a freedom beyond all transcendence. She is truly a free spirit.

Skips a Generation

I was a purple freak as a kid, but I adored my grandpa. The facts about my grandpa were clear: his favorite food was cheese, he fell asleep in the recliner after dinner (and three Manhattans), he drove my grandma crazy, and he LOVED RED. For his twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, he got a ruby ring as a reward for not taking off that pesky wedding ring in all those years.

Ten years ago my son took up a fixation with Po—the red Teletubby. His wardrobe has been filled with red ever since. I think he comes by it naturally.

The next insightful literary work is done by a Burrower who is master of many talents - writer, runner, mother, gardener, photographer and so much more. She devotes her time to all these aspects and still has time to be a profit sector professional. She is amazing.

The Impetuousness of Youth. The Belief that Violence could Right a Wrong. I Picked up a Gun. Shot down Innocents in a Random Act of Violence. Witnesses Swore I was Elsewhere. The Law could pin Nothing on Me. I am Free. Free to Do Whatever I Choose.
She will Not Leave Me. Her Eyes Follow me Everywhere. Pleading with Me to Save her Child. Burning in Anger after I Gunned Him Down. From Her, there is No Escape.
She is my Jailer. I am Stuck in a Prison Cell of my own Making. Forever Looking Out. Forever Hoping for Redemption.

The next drabble is written by our Taffy resident Burrower who incorporates humor, empathy, zaniness and honesty into all of her work.

In Your Shoes

Like all little girls, I used to love playing dress-up. I had a box filled with old clothes, scraps of fabric, and a few hats. Everything you needed to play pretend. The only things missing were the shoes, which I’d have to sneak from my mother’s closet. Pointy toes, shiny shoes, high heels, strappy sandals, sparkly shoes; all found their way to my feet at some point, and I’d teeter and totter all over the place. Thirty years later, you can still find me balancing in inappropriate footwear. Some things you never grow out of. And really... who wants to?

The last glimpse is from our philosophical resident Burrower. He is witty and a comedic genius who is also thoroughly creative and analytical when it comes to writing. Here is one of his wonderful contributions . . .

No, there's nothing in my hands. Still.

Oh, you remember last time you asked? I explained that it was an exercise to develop the power for crushing my enemies.

"Tiny enemies," ha ha. Very funny. The exercise is not physical, but rather intended to fine-tune the necessary mental state.

What's that? You don't understand the necessity, because you don't see any of these "alleged" foes? You're laughing, aren't you?

Actually, you're right. I'm not doing that exercise because I haven't seen any such enemies for quite a while. Right now, I'm massaging my calloused palms.

And I'm laughing, too.

So check us out at The Burrow Home.

Take care,

Chary

Drabbles

A Story told in Two Words

If you have been a regular of this blog, you would know exactly what a drabble is. Wikipedia defines a drabble as "an extremely short work of fiction exactly one hundred words in length", and goes on to specify that "the purpose of the drabble is brevity, testing the author's ability to express interesting and meaningful ideas in an extremely confined space."

The term apparently comes from Monty Python's 1971 Big Red Book, where "Drabble" was a word game where the first participant to write a novel wins. In order to make the game possible in the real world, it was agreed that 100 words would suffice to tell a story.

Purists have questioned it. According to them, a story can be called a story only if it has detailed plots, meaningful character development, and an easily identifiable beginning, middle and end. I am no expert on what constitutes or doesn't constitute a story, but take a look at this one-

High school sweethearts, we drifted apart. Corporate lawyers need trophy wives, not gynecologist-wives on call twenty-four hours. Neither noticed when we stopped exchanging X-mas cards. Keeping in touch was tough before e-mail.

You found me on Facebook. I accepted your friend request. We had grown as people, but the old spark was still alive. You wrangled a trip to the Continent, I drove down to Paris. We were lovers again, though never to be re-united.

Your wife is Catholic, she will not let you go. My husband has Alzheimer's, I cannot leave him. Only in Paris can we be Us.

Plot? I can think of dozens of published books where the plot is not very much more complicated than this.

Character sketch

Characters? The drabble may not go into the nuances of the personality of the characters, but there is enough in the sketch for us to fill in the details.

Beginning, Middle and End? Maybe not. The middle ages have merely been indicated, but is that central to the story? Had, for instance, Eric Segal had written the story, over half the book would have been devoted to the lives that the main characters led when they were separated from each other. A literary writer may have written it from the standpoint of the lady dealing with her husband's Alzheimer's. Chick lit would have contrived a happy ending somehow. But, no matter how you choose to deal with the topic, the story told in 100 words, does tell a story.

Or take a look at this one-

I found out all about her. She had grown up in this village. Left in disgrace after being impregnated by an infidel. She returned with her gypsy lover– she flaunted him.

She was everything I hated. I denounced her from the pulpit. Predicted eternal hell for her offspring.

She said love was not a sin, hate was. She remained unrepentant; she continued to attend my church.

She asked for me before she died.

"Father", she confessed. "You are my first-born child."

She died. I have to go on living. How?

People who live in glass houses... should not throw stones.

I had just finished reading Joanne Harris' Chocolat when I wrote this, and everytime I read the drabble, I am taken back to the other book. The details are merely indicated, but any reader can fill them in. It can easily be expanded into an entire novel, without needing to add anything.

A hundred words can never convey as much as a 75,000 word novel, not is it expected to. One is an oil painting, the other is a pencil sketch- the two cannot be compared.

Write EVERYDAY

Why go into all this? Because I do think that writing a drabble is one of the best writing exercises there can be. Any writer will tell you that the key to writing is to write everyday. But there are days when real life catches up with you to such an extent, you just cannot find the time to write. Drabbles are ideal for those days.

You can think about the drabble while your hands are otherwise employed. You can play it out in your mind, to determine what is absolutely essential and what can be taken out. The physical act of writing down the drabble need not take more than 15 minutes. Add another 15 minutes to edit, add, chop, and change to make it 100 words, and you have a drabble. While a self-imposed discipline of 1,000 words a day may take you closer to having the first draft of your manuscript in three months, writing a drabble a day gives you as much writing practice as writing ten times as many words.

Try it. It can be addictive.


And to get you started, do check out some of the drabbles on our home website- the Burrow

Drabble Dare # 8

It is Sunday, and by now our Sunday posts should be a familiar drill. But just in case you're joining the party late, or perhaps you're just slow on the intake (not that any of our readers would be that, of course...) I have composed a quick exercise routine to remind y'all what you're here for today:

What do we want?

Your drabble (make sure it is exactly 100 words long)!

When do we want it?

By the end of Thursday, September (I can't believe it's September already!) 2nd!

How do we want it?

By email (theburrow360 at gmail.com), tagged with "Drabble Dare" in the subject field (and we won't shoot you if you also include you name/pen name, in case that isn't entirely obvious from your email address)!

Why do we want it?

Ah.... Now is not the time for existential questions...

What image do we want your drabble to be inspired by?

This one:

"Girl with parrot"from the Tuti-Nâma-Manuscript, 1585, Chester Beatty Library.

So, everyone, say it with me:

Send your drabble to theburrow360 at gmail.com by Thursday, midnight, GMT (you know, when Tursday turns into Friday in Britain)!!!



The winner will be announced at Saturday

Now stretch...

(Just don't do this...)

Nowhere Man

When I was young, I had a ruler which had the image of a hilly landscape in broad daylight. If you tilted the ruler slightly, the image was replaced by another of the same landscape at night. I still do not know what those multiple images are called, but I remember spending many hours holding the card up at various angles to determine if I could find a third image hidden somewhere.

When I grew a little older, I overheard Atticus Finch tell his kids- "You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view - until you climb into his skin and walk around in it." After I digested that, things were never the same again. Trying to see things from the point of view of the other person helped me understand why they did what they did- I may not have found it in me to love them despite what they did, but it definitely helped me accept things.

Naturally, therefore, when I started writing, and discovered my fondness for the short story, I automatically gravitated towards multiple PoVs (Points of View).

"Taxi!" I yelled with my arm raised high. Hailing a cab in Midtown during rush hour is definitely ill-advised. I walked to the next corner. It begins to rain. I mumble about meteorologists and faulty forecasts and it dawned on me that I forgot the holy grail in business- my flashdrive with the PowerPoint presentation needed for the meeting. Thank God for cell phones.
"Mandy, bring my flash drive to 39th and Park. I don't care how you do it. . . Yes, I know the meeting is in fifteen minutes. Just get it to me. Now!" Time for a new assistant.

Chary Johnson

I should have been indulging in some retail therapy at Barneys. Instead I am stuck in this stupid midtown rush.
I deserved the morning off. Was in office till midnight formatting graphs, standardising the presentation. "See you in office at eight", she said stepping into her cab as I legged it to the subway station.
Couldn't she have gone directly to the client's office? Can't she forgo the coffee from the office vending machine even once?
"Bring my flash drive to...", she trilled just as I was stepping out. Inconsiderate, forgetful bitch.
Time to look for a new job.

Rayna M. Iyer

With two people, the equation was simple -
2 people x 1 incident = 2 stories

It was when you increased the number of characters that the equations started to get more complicated -

3 people x 1 incident = 6 stories
4 people x 1 incident - 12 stories

..

..

..

..

..

n people x 1 incident = n x (n-1) stories

A loves B, B loves C, A and C are friends.

Regardless of the ultimate conclusion, this, the most formulaistic story ever written, would be totally different depending on whether it was told from the PoV of A, B, C, or a fourth character outside the main triangle.

Iain Pears used multiple PoVs to good effect in his 1998 historical mystery, An Instance of the Fingerpost, where the story unfolds through the contradictory narrative of four unreliable witnesses.

Would To Kill a Mockingbird have been as effective a story, had Harper Lee chosen not to tell the story from the PoV of a child?

To me, one of the most fun parts of planning a story is deciding which PoV to use. What about you- which PoV do you use? To you tell a story from the PoV of any of the protagonists, or do you choose someone watching from the fringes?

----

Painting - Midtown Rush, Paul Kenton- courtesy Washington Green

Title taken from the song of the same name by The Beatles- "...doesn't have a point of view, knows not where he's going to..."

Both stories are drabbles - an extremely short story told in exactly 100 words.

The Drabble Tradition

Hello, and welcome to YOUR INTRODUCTION to a little Burrow Tradition.

First though, I'm supposed to do a little weekly summary, so here goes... YOU GUYS ROCK!  Each of us Burrowers has linked and invited, so ALL of you are probably a follower of ONE of us, but I've noted a pattern for those of you who followed someone over, to check out some others of us, too... I was just SO DARNED impressed with the initial outpour of fabulousness from all of you – 32 followers in one day had us feeling like rock stars, and things have kept trickling up since then (from 19 countries, too – nice start!)  I have tried to check out followers, but am sure I've missed a few (I am easily distracted)... if you are a commenter though, I will get there... I was distressed to see that every new blog I followed, Mari had gotten there FIRST.  I suppose that means she is more on the ball than me, but as she GREW UP with computers, and I had to adapt as a fully formed adult, I will take that excuse...  Anyway, we THANK YOU sincerely for being here!

Now back to your regularly scheduled blog...

We've mentioned Drabbles, but do you know what one is? It is a Monty Python term (a bonus) which means a STORY told in EXACTLY 100 words – a writing challenge if you will. It requires the writer to be concise to get the point across, flexible to tweak it to fit, and creative as to what might really BE a story that can be told that briefly.

Historically we've written Drabbles to IMAGES and we thought we would introduce YOU to the exercise, as it is a fun one when you want to keep nimble but don't have a ton of time. So TODAY, we will show an example of a single image with Drabbles several of US wrote to. Then TOMORROW we will post an image and ask YOU to write – you have until Thursday, and then starting NEXT Saturday, we will post the 'best'* of the Drabbles generated from reader responses (* best being a subjective term determined by the Burrow member scheduled for that weekend). It's a ton of fun, and we find, a GREAT writing exercise.

So without further ado... the image, followed by our Drabbles...  The particular series was part of our project for February 2009.

“Coffee”

Steve Evans

~~~~~

We met over a cup of coffee, can you remember? I was supping a creamy cappuccino, while you knocked back your espresso. The coffees matched us somehow; you, who are full of energy and are apt to be continually on the move, whereas I am usually lingering over anything and everything, eager to savor every last drop.

Of course, I cannot stand coffee at the moment. But that is alright; the reason my stomach heaves is because the fruit of our meeting nestles safely inside it.

But soon I will love coffee again, almost as much as I love you.

-Tara Smith

~~~~~

Every morning I cheat on my husband. I have tried to resist the temptation. I only end up with a pounding migraine headache.

I suffer from the absolute need for the delectable, awe-inspiring and indefinable quality of perfection you possess. No matter where I go, you are there. Every bodega, deli, diner and shop is stocked up with your warm, fragrant goodness.

I cannot be without you. Even while pregnant, I ran back to you. My husband cannot comprehend the magnitude of my desire for you.

I am forever enslaved to this legally addictive stimulant. I want you even now."

- Shaharizan Perez

~~~~~

"So, did you do it?"
"Do I look like I did?"
"But you're sure that you want him?"
"I've never been so smitten with anyone before."
"Then do it today. You can't delay much longer, anyway. Milk?"
"Thanks..."
"Hey, listen! It's Valentine's! You knock and put it across with a present, and that's it!"
"No!"
"It's not like showing up half naked!"
"I did last time!"
"That was about something completely different."
"Really, I can't!"
"A chickenshit, you of all people! Honestly, no one I know has ever made such a fuss about returning an iron... Waitress! More milk, please!"

- S. T. Grahamer

~~~~~

"Mamma, why is he biting her?", the three-year old's voice cut through the chatter at the café.
"He is not biting, stupid. He is kissing her", declared the five-year old.
"Nobody kisses like that. Mamma, isn't he biting her?"
"They are kissing, baby", I whispered, embarrassed.

"But why is he eating her mouth?"
"Because he loves her!" When had my son become such a Know-it-all?
"I love you, Mamma, can I eat your mouth?"

People didn't even pretend not to stare as I dragged the kids away.

I am never, NEVER,
N-E-V-E-R taking them to a café on Valentine's Day.

- Rayna M. Iyer

~~~~~

"Low-fat latte. For here," she added, to her surprise. Normally, she'd take it to go. But the snow made it difficult to read the papers she had to go through. Ten minutes at the café was tempting.
The barista smiled, and handed her a cup. She picked up a spoon, about to stir the coffee before she'd even sat down. Then she noticed. In the middle of her coffee, a foam heart. She caught the eye of the barista. He smiled again, then blushed.

The following morning she looked into her cup before she lidded it. This time she blushed.

- Mari Salberg

~~~~~

I miss my friend. Standing in line at Starbucks, watching the barista making my macchiato, I recall messing around in the café at work, inventing new drinks and caffeinating ourselves beyond sanity. My phone beeps with a text message, and guess who it's from? "I did it - successfully ended things with Faith", it says. "Good on you!" I reply as I reach for my coffee. There's a quote printed on the side; I idly read the beginning and nearly choke on my first sip. "I have faith." it says. Whoever the coffee god is, I like his sense of humour.

- Leanne Rabesa

~~~~~

You really must add some sugar. Let me explain:

Steve said he loved me, and I believed him. He said he couldn't live without me! I roused him every morning and sustained him late at night while he studied for exams. My effort put the man through medical school. It was draining, true, but I knew we'd be together forever.

Then came Julie the nutritionist. Cold as ice, and a hussy to boot, she convinced Steve I was somehow bad for him. They got married and I was dumped like a quart of used motor oil.

You'd be bitter, too.

- Jason Drake

~~~~~

Books in bag, I descend the stairs quietly, my friends still asleep. It's Sunday after all, our earned lie-in. But, I tell myself, I have studying to do, reading for a test, a writing project.

I head to the coffee house; the Sunday morning man is there, the one who plays guitar and sings like Paul Simon, happy, yet mellow enough to read by. I order my latte and sit, pretending to read, not reading, listening.

I've chosen my table well, just one stir through my beverage and you come through the door, matching perfectly the froth in my cup.

- Hart Johnson

~~~~~

Smooth, rich, dark, desirable... comfortable.
Friends come and go, family let you down, men...
Don't get me started on men!
But coffee... coffee is always there to pick me up
When I am sinking.
I know you understand- you look like
A person of uncommon insight. Share a cup with me?
How do you take it? No sugar and a little cream-
Yes that is how I like mine too.
You want my phone number?
Oh...
You are daring.
I see you drink Columbian:
Have you tried the new bean from Ecuador?
Yes I love it- quite bold.
Like you.

- Aleatha Ingleton

So we invite all of you back tomorrow for an image to give it a shot for yourselves!  And if you CAN'T come back tomorrow... just remember to check the day's blog... you have until Thursday. (posted by the Tart... just so you aren't totally disoriented... but FOR the Burrow)