Week #11 Prompts

53. The things I see as I walk along the street--that's heaven to me. Or is it?
This small town is heaven to me, or is it really?

Heading up the hill to the post office, I take my time. The small bench off to one side of the sidewalk sits quietly in the shade. The paint is peeling on the bench and the flowers planted nearby have died from the heat. The sun is shining but the hill is steep, and the sidewalk is a path of cracks and mismatched pavement waiting for the unwary - to trip them or turn an ankle. Across the street the rumble of the moving truck catches my attention. The wheels carve into the grass from a careless turn of the steering wheel. At the post office I get my collection of junk mail and sale flyers, election notices and campaign promises. Wasteful and useless to clutter my home.

Regular problems, usual crap, no one notices or cares outside of their own little bubble. Is this little town really my own piece of heaven?

Heading out of the post office I notice the poster over the large recycling bin near the door. Thousands of pounds of paper recycled and reused instead of rotting in a land fill last year, I add my donation to the pile. Looking down the street I see the moving van is now parked alongside the street, the new owners of the house talking to the driver about being more careful. The walk down the hill lets the light breeze push the hair out of my eyes to see the cracks in the sidewalk more clearly, easily avoided. Nearing home, my neighbor nods in my direction instead of waving. His hands are full, carrying a tray of bright flowers towards the shaded bench area.

I smile. I am happy here, this little town IS heaven to me.


54. Pick a prompt from http://onemillionfootnotes.blogspot.com/. Tell us what it is and run with it. - "He heard it in the music. "
Teenagers don't make any sense to me. My sixteen year old son is just as much a mystery as he was when he was first born. He has had opportunities that I never dreamed of, and gone on adventures that I could have only wished for him.

"Isn't it great that you are going to Costa Rica? Are you excited?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Or

"You leave for Germany tomorrow, are you nervous going by yourself?"

"Nah, not really. It'll be ok."

But when my son puts on his headphones, and starts up his iPod, his face transforms. Wonder, excitement, tension, and anticipation drift across his face as he stares at the blank wall.

All he was and wanted to be was there, in the music. He heard it all in the music


52. Find an ad, copy it so we know where you're starting, and speculate on the tale behind it--thinking as you write about meanings beyond the obvious.
Scanning down the pages of Uncle Henry's, I look for all the things that I need that I didn't know I needed until I saw them. Here and there I sketch a mental picture of the writer: happy and sad, young and old, starting new adventures or erasing memories of the past.

"Large 30 yr. collection of Pre 1964 silver coins. Mostly quarters and halves BO."

The older man, sitting in his living room glances over at the handmade bookshelves along the far wall. The books of coins, lonely without their former neighbors, standing tall and proud still. The packing boxes stacked along the walls holding only the important and necessary - which was all the new little apartment would hold. "If only.." drifted through his mind. If only she hadn't gotten sick and died, if only they had saved more just in case, if only they hadn't taken out the second mortgage instead of selling the house, if only...