Copyright Julia Bydulia.
Word Count: 97
Title: Red-Orange Phone
---
Where is the line crossed between a late night and insomnia? I’m sitting in front of the telephone, caught up in a staring contest and the feel of cracking my knuckles, my neck, my toes, my back… The phone used to be red. It’s faded since I bought it, so it looks orange now. My gray eyes are drying out, turning white through and through. I pick it up, press the button with the big white 4 on it. With my thumb poised over the 7, I hit myself and put the phone down, assuming staring position.
Showing posts with label blurb. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blurb. Show all posts
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Blurb #5
Copyright Julia Bydulia
Word Count: 99
Title: 11 Different Ways
---
I wish you would stop popping up in my life in the most stupid, aggravating ways. Walking down the street, I’m reminded of you eleven different ways. I pull my scarf tighter around my neck and try to strangle you out of me, but, I can’t even strangle out the cold. The wind whips me left to right and back again. I stare at my shoes, the sidewalk; nothing helps. I wish you could have the decency to leave me alone, but, I should know better than to even think it, shouldn’t I? You and decency never got along.
Word Count: 99
Title: 11 Different Ways
---
I wish you would stop popping up in my life in the most stupid, aggravating ways. Walking down the street, I’m reminded of you eleven different ways. I pull my scarf tighter around my neck and try to strangle you out of me, but, I can’t even strangle out the cold. The wind whips me left to right and back again. I stare at my shoes, the sidewalk; nothing helps. I wish you could have the decency to leave me alone, but, I should know better than to even think it, shouldn’t I? You and decency never got along.
Blurb #4
Copyright Julia Bydulia.
I know it's technically Wednesday. Sorry about that.
Word Count:100
Title: Red
---
I kept the piece of fabric that got caught on the emergency ladder. I know you probably didn’t expect me to. That would fall under the column of me “not caring.” But, it was a violent red against the wet metal and pavement of the alley. I picked it up and tucked it in my pocket as I stood there, alone, and hoped you would come back. I know that being drunk is no excuse, so I won’t use it. Her lips were so cherry red and begging for a kiss. Begging the way you hadn’t in months. I’m sorry.
I know it's technically Wednesday. Sorry about that.
Word Count:100
Title: Red
---
I kept the piece of fabric that got caught on the emergency ladder. I know you probably didn’t expect me to. That would fall under the column of me “not caring.” But, it was a violent red against the wet metal and pavement of the alley. I picked it up and tucked it in my pocket as I stood there, alone, and hoped you would come back. I know that being drunk is no excuse, so I won’t use it. Her lips were so cherry red and begging for a kiss. Begging the way you hadn’t in months. I’m sorry.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Blurb #3
Copyright Julia Bydulia.
Word Count: 99
Title: The Blushing Bride
---
The air was sweet and full of the scent of the flowers that the bride had chosen herself. The grass was perfectly green, the chairs were in perfect rows, the temperature outside was not too warm or too cold. Max was standing at the altar in his tux, waiting for the blushing bride with the rest of the crowd. As the music started, everyone turned around to see her arrive on the arm of her father. "I love weddings," I whispered to my date. Then, I turned my head to look at him and realized the seat was empty.
Word Count: 99
Title: The Blushing Bride
---
The air was sweet and full of the scent of the flowers that the bride had chosen herself. The grass was perfectly green, the chairs were in perfect rows, the temperature outside was not too warm or too cold. Max was standing at the altar in his tux, waiting for the blushing bride with the rest of the crowd. As the music started, everyone turned around to see her arrive on the arm of her father. "I love weddings," I whispered to my date. Then, I turned my head to look at him and realized the seat was empty.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Blurb #2
Copyright Julia Bydulia.
Word Count: 93
Title: Road Trip
---
I pressed my forehead against the window and felt the cold jolt through my skull. “Are we almost there?” I asked, not feeling very optimistic about the answer. “No.” The word was like a popped balloon: you knew it wouldn’t last forever, but, you were hoping it would last a lot longer than it did. Then, in the end, all you’re left with is some brightly colored rubber and a very long drive home. I kept my head on the glass and closed my eyes. The world was more colorful behind my eyelids.
Word Count: 93
Title: Road Trip
---
I pressed my forehead against the window and felt the cold jolt through my skull. “Are we almost there?” I asked, not feeling very optimistic about the answer. “No.” The word was like a popped balloon: you knew it wouldn’t last forever, but, you were hoping it would last a lot longer than it did. Then, in the end, all you’re left with is some brightly colored rubber and a very long drive home. I kept my head on the glass and closed my eyes. The world was more colorful behind my eyelids.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Blurb #1
Copyright Julia Bydulia.
I used to keep a journal just for 100 word pieces of prose (blurbs). In order to keep me writing regularly, for this week I am going to post at least a blurb a day. That's up to and including next Saturday.
I'm going to be posting them on my tumblr, as well.
Word Count: 100
Title: Sweaty, Stuck, and Miserable
---
The floor was scratchy against my back. I regretted taking off my shirt, despite the crippling heat. Through the window, the stars were winking at me. I did my best not to scream. At the stars, at the heat, at myself. At him. There was no way around it, no way over it, and no way under it. I was sweaty, stuck, and miserable with no sign of any of it letting up. That, and the night seemed unwilling to break into day. I prayed for all of it to stop. But with my luck, prayer doesn’t do much good.
I used to keep a journal just for 100 word pieces of prose (blurbs). In order to keep me writing regularly, for this week I am going to post at least a blurb a day. That's up to and including next Saturday.
I'm going to be posting them on my tumblr, as well.
Word Count: 100
Title: Sweaty, Stuck, and Miserable
---
The floor was scratchy against my back. I regretted taking off my shirt, despite the crippling heat. Through the window, the stars were winking at me. I did my best not to scream. At the stars, at the heat, at myself. At him. There was no way around it, no way over it, and no way under it. I was sweaty, stuck, and miserable with no sign of any of it letting up. That, and the night seemed unwilling to break into day. I prayed for all of it to stop. But with my luck, prayer doesn’t do much good.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)