Category: The Word

Tiffin

[ tif-in ]

Noun

A light meal, especially lunch.
A type of lunchbox.

Let’s Write…

** Either a story beginning, a story ending, a piece of flash fiction, a poem–inspired by the word, tiffin, where does it take me? Where does it take you?

“Arencha gonna eat, Ted?” said Barney, before he stuffed his sandwich into his mouth, biting off more than it could hold.

“Not hungry,” Ted said, watching Barney chomp away with his mouth open, bits falling to his plate. Ted looked down at his own sandwich, feeling nauseous.

“Whassa matter?” More bits of sandwich fell to Barney’s plate.

“Nothing,” Ted lied.

Barney didn’t question him further. He shrugged and swallowed the giant mass of partially chewed sandwich with an audible “gulp,” followed by a slurp of his beer.

Why did I even agree to this?–Ted thought…

… Far more urgent matters filled his mind, but he also knew the answer. Maintain appearances–he answered himself–business as usual.

Ted picked up his sandwich and took a small bite. The nausea was still there, but at least it gave him time to think. Barney was already chewing on another massive wad of bread and meat, his lunch almost gone.

“Hows Maar?” Barney asked, bread falling from his mouth.

“Mary’s fine…” Ted answered as casually as he could, yet his heart raced. Did Barney know something? No–he thought. It’s a perfectly normal question to ask about his wife. Barney’s eyes though–and was that a smirk he saw?

“Thas good ta hear.”

Ted saw it again. There was definitely a glint in Barney’s eyes like he was enjoying an inside joke. Could his blackmailer really be this buffoon? This jackass who he ate lunch with every day at work? Suddenly, a furious appetite stole over Ted, and he bit off a large chunk of his sandwich.

He was going to find out. He was going to turn the tides on his tormentor. Perhaps–he thought–I can shut Barney’s fat mouth once and for all. The thought made him smile.

Today was going to be a good day–he thought.

Notes/Thoughts/Ideas

The idea I started with was that Ted was being blackmailed and unknowingly eating lunch with his blackmailer.

I imagined a revelation at the end of this scene where Ted discovers this truth and is shocked by it. Afraid of the blackmailer. The blackmailer in full control, maybe even revealing himself to Ted to instill more fear.

Either way, I imagined it ending with Ted being in further desperation and fear. Yet, as I wrote Barney’s character, the strong desire to “shut his fat mouth,” stole over myself! Lol.

Writing his disgusting chewing, his accent, and picturing him in my mind. All of it made me want to give Ted some power. I liked how that came through gaining his appetite back. A simple visual of strength returning in himself. I thought that was nice and clean.

The story can go a lot of places. Maybe we want Ted to be victorious; perhaps what he’s being blackmailed for is actually really horrible, and we don’t want him to win; or, how does walking this dark path change him? Maybe this scene, this life event, is what turned Ted into a serial killer? It all depends on the story you want to write.

That’s enough from me, though…

What do you think of Tiffin?

Which direction would you like to see the story take? Did you also desire to shut Barney’s mouth? Lol.

Leave your thoughts, your own story beginning/ending, flash-fiction, or whatever in the comments! Where did tiffin or my story take you?

If you like a darker twist, check out The Devil’s Tri-Tone.

Today’s word is from Word Genius.

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Tags dark spin

The Word

Breviloquent

[ bre-vil-uh-kwuhnt ]

Adjective

Speaking or expressed in a concise or terse style.
Using brevity of speech.

Let’s Write…

** Either a story beginning, a story ending, a piece of flash fiction, a poem–inspired by the word, breviloquent, where does it take me? Where does it take you?

Georgia sat at her desk, straight like a board, with her gloved hands resting delicately on the table before her. Madam Tess stalked slowly up and down the rows of girls holding her thin, bamboo rod reciting the day’s lesson.

“Speak wisely, or not at all,” said Madam Tess.

A new girl, sitting just in front of Georgia, gazed out the window. Suddenly, yet not unexpected, a loud “crack!” filled the room as the bamboo rod came down upon the girl’s gloved hands. She screamed in pain, and Madam Tess said nothing, but just stared at the girl. The new girl put her hands back on the desk slowly, eyes fixed ahead, and Madam Tess continued.

“A woman is only ever a voice of reason.”

Georgia’s mind went to the new girl, but she didn’t glance over in case Madam Tess turned around. She remembered her own first days at the school and her naivety.

The leather gloves that all the girls wore was a well-known mark of someone who attended St. Margaret’s Academy. Rumor had it, they never took them off. Once a girl entered the school, she’d wear her gloves for the rest of her life.

That’s precisely why Georgia’s family sent her there. She could go to school, have friends, live her life, and no one would ever see her hands.

After her first day at the Academy, it became clear that the gloves were there to soften the blows of the rod, and to hide marks of broken fingers. Everyone held secrets apparently. It wasn’t just her.

Notes/Thoughts/Ideas

The idea here, I think, has awesome potential. A rough school where all the girls and future women wear gloves always. A perfect chance to instill a little mystery as to what Georgia is hiding.

She’s able to hide in plain sight, no one would question her for wearing gloves. But, of course, the gloves will have to come off at some point. When she embraces her identity as not a girl of this Academy, but something else entirely.

I imagine her hands hold some visible magical signs. Tattoos she was born with that move around. Or, maybe they glow. They’re green. It could be anything!

So, the mystery is first just what is she hiding under the gloves? There’s tension in the story as we know, at some point, the gloves will come off. What will that mean for Georgia? Then, there’s the mystery of what those glowing green hands mean? Is she a witch? A demon?

Easy to make a conflicted romance as a result too. Lots of cool places this can go, and when I started, I really didn’t love the idea. Now, I’m really into it!

What do you think of Breviloquent?

Does Georgia have a story to tell? Where would you take it?

Leave your thoughts, your own story beginning/ending, flash-fiction, or whatever in the comments! Where did breviloquent or my story take you?

If you want to read something with a little magic, check out my short story The Three-Legged Knight.

Today’s word is from Dictionary.com.

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The Word

Pellucid

[ puh-loo-sid ]

Adjective

Translucently clear.
(of music or other sound) clear and pure in tone.

Let’s Write…

** Either a story beginning, a story ending, a piece of flash fiction, a poem–inspired by the word, pellucid, where does it take me? Where does it take you?

Henry packed up his tent with little help from his five-year-old son, Lionel. That was expected, but the excitement in the air was so palpable that he didn’t care to turn it into a teaching moment.

“Today’s the day, Lionel!” Henry said as the line tightened closer now that everyone’s tents were away.

“Really, daddy?”

“Really.”

Henry looked behind him in awe at the endless curving chain of people, all waiting their turn. Soldiers, with their famous curved swords and plumed helmets, outlined the people like river banks. Surprisingly, Henry hadn’t witnessed any outbreaks of fighting in the entire week they’d been waiting.

“Breakfast!” came a voice a hundred yards up the line.

Various food carts and vendors paraded up the line selling their goods, and some even put on small performances of dancing or singing. Lionel loved those, but Henry’s eyes were now fixed ahead.

He could see it…

… They were only five people away from their chance to look through the window phenomenon that no-one could explain. Scholars in white robes and equally flowing and white beards had simply concluded that what they’d see was on our world. Just the other side of it. Something to do with the stars.

Two people ahead. Every person or group was given five whole minutes to gaze. One person ahead. A line of five soldiers blocked Henry and his son to wait their turn. The soldiers opened like a gate, and Henry and Lionel moved forward.

On the ground was a giant circle of glass. As Henry peered into it, others stared back at him. People like Henry had never seen with pale skin, round eyes, and even color to their eyes. They were so different, and yet there was something familiar about these people from the other side of the world.

Together, Henry, Lionel, and the people on the other side must have made the same conclusion for Lionel giggled, and they all smiled. Their smiles could have been a reflection of Henry’s as his cheeks felt scrunched in the broadest grin of his life. They weren’t so different, after all.

Four minutes left.

Notes/Thoughts/Ideas

I hope this one made you feel good. Perhaps this one is influenced a little by the present state of the world? A window to see the other side, people different from us. Yet, our smiles are all smiles. We’re all looking for the same things right now. Connection.

My favorite part of the story is actually the very last line. “Four minutes left.” Meaning, the realization Henry and the others made happened quickly. They connected almost instantly. I love that idea. If we all stop to look, we’re not so different after all.

I’m not sure if there would be a novel-size story here, but there could be. The culture created by these huge lines. There could be some interesting things to explore there. But, I think it works best as is. I’ll leave it at that.

What do you think of Pellucid?

Did it make you smile? I hope so.

Leave your thoughts, your own story beginning/ending, flash-fiction, or whatever in the comments! Where did pellucid or my story take you?

If you want to read something that goes into our human connection, check out my short story Ripples.

Today’s word is from Word Genius.

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Enjoy a One-Minute Story, Learn a New Word, and Create With Me! Delivered to you every Tuesday and Thursday morning.

Tags feel good, uplifting

The Word

Deflagrate

[ def-luh-greyt ]

Verb

To burn rapidly with intense heat and sparks being given off.
To cause (something) to burn in such a manner.

Let’s Write…

** Either a story beginning, a story ending, a piece of flash fiction, a poem–inspired by the word, deflagrate, where does it take me? Where does it take you?

There was life born from the violence before him, and he loved to think about it. A spectacular and dangerous reaction of iron oxide and aluminum that melted the tips of the steel rail. Sparks shot in all directions like miniature fireworks.

His heart raced as he watched through a pair of heavily shaded glasses. It was like looking at the Sun. Another bit of violence and fire that gave life–he thought.

The sparks began to die, and the light dimmed drastically. Teddy removed his glasses to watch the remaining flames fade away.

Nodding his head, and two other men stepped forward to complete the weld, inspected that the two ends of the steel had now melted together. Teddy didn’t need to be there, really. His men knew what they were doing, but he couldn’t resist. Sometimes, he needed to watch to remind himself of the smallest steps, the smallest links in the giant chain that was their final goal.

Teddy walked away and looked towards the horizon. The steel rail would connect, one link at a time, and soon his view would hold two straight lines coming to a point in the distance, like an arrow pointing to the future.

All roads lead to Rome–he thought, and then laughed. He didn’t care for the center of this operation, New York. Teddy didn’t look back at the rail they already laid. He didn’t look at where they came from. Teddy dreamed of where they could go next.

Notes/Thoughts/Ideas

Well, that was fun for me! A little nod to the novel Atlas Shrugged–a controversial story in terms of philosophy. The essence of that novel, to me, is in my short story here: a celebration of innovation and creation. All the rest aside, that’s what I take from it and love about it.

That’s sort of what this #everyday exercise is all about. It’s not to dive into issues of politics or philosophy, although I may at times dip my foot in the waters there. It’s about celebrating and embracing creating every day.

And, celebrating your creations as well! That’s why I ask you to share whatever it is you do. Inspired by the word, let it prompt a bit of art with no real thought of “where is this leading me?” Just a chance to create for the sake of creating.

What do you think of Deflagrate?

Did I hit the right emotion in my story to celebrate innovation and creation? Let me know what you felt from it!

Leave your thoughts, your own story beginning/ending, flash-fiction, or whatever in the comments! Where did deflagrate or my story take you?

If you want to read something that celebrates creating, check out my short story The Man From Nowhere.

Today’s word is from Merriam-Webster.

Get THE WORD Every Day!

Enjoy a One-Minute Story, Learn a New Word, and Create With Me! Delivered to you every Tuesday and Thursday morning.

Tags uplifting

The Word

Umbra

[ uhm-bruh ]

Noun

A conical shadow excluding all light from a given source; specifically: the conical part of the shadow of a celestial body excluding all light from the primary source.
The central dark part of a sunspot.
A shaded area.

Let’s Write…

** Either a story beginning, a story ending, a piece of flash fiction, a poem–inspired by the word, umbra, where does it take me? Where does it take you?

Charlie saw nothing but blackness out of the corner of his right eye. The peripheral vision, on just his right side, was just cut off. It had always been that way, and he never gave pause to wonder about it anymore. That was until it started speaking to him.

“Charlie,” came a whispered voice from the darkness.

Naturally, Charlie turned around to face the person that was just out of his view. No one stood behind him or anywhere near him. The sidewalks of his neighborhood were empty, as were all the front lawns. He was alone on his walk.

“Charlie,” came the whispered voice again.

Charlie turned around again, because what else could it be?

“No, it’s not anyone else,” the voice said.

“What is going on?” Charlie muttered to himself.

“I just thought it time we were officially acquainted.”

Charlie thought he saw a flutter in the darkness of his vision. A bit of light shining through where there had only ever been black. Like the defect in his vision wasn’t a defect, but something was standing there blocking his view.

“Today is your lucky day, Charlie.”

“And why is that?” Charlie said, abandoning all fear and talking to the air, to the darkness.

“Because today, you will see that I am not a hole in your vision, but a chance to see more than you ever could without me.”

“Why would I want that?” Charlie spoke with attitude.

“I can tell you what other people are thinking, what they’re doing from miles away, behind their closed doors. I can see all you need to know to attain all the things you dream about. And yes, I can see your dreams.”

Charlie paused, his heart racing. “So, you can help me–“

“Win the girl you long for?”

“Yes…” Charlie said hesitantly.

“An easy feat and we can start there, but soon I will teach you to dream bigger!”

“Ok, let’s see what you got. How can I get a date with Sarah?”

“Just do what I tell you to do, simple as that.”

Charlie paused for a second. What do I have to lose?–he thought.

“Ok, tell me,” Charlie said.

Notes/Thoughts/Ideas

I think we can all see where this one is going! Charlie begins taking advice and direction from this voice. The instructions gain him all he ever wanted. Then, he realizes at some point, that in the wake of his successes is nothing but devastation.

A classic story of selling your soul to the devil. So, how could it become different?

One idea to play with is there’s someone else out there who is taking instruction, not from a darkness, but from a light. Both forces using these two people in some kind of chess battle for the Earth.

Maybe the two sources aren’t heaven and hell, but just an alien race having fun, competing against each other, and the two humans come together to turn the table on them somehow?

I think if I spend some more time brainstorming, I can take this nugget of an idea and turn it into something different.

The idea I just went through was really just changing the genre. If it’s heaven and hell, forces of light and dark, I’m thinking the Fantasy genre. If it’s aliens, then we’re in the Science Fiction genre. A simple switch, and now the story might have a fresh feel.

Something we can all try with any art form. Take the idea you’re having and switch the genre. See where it leads. From writing, to music, to art. Switch the genre.

What do you think of Umbra?

Aliens or Cosmic forces? What idea sounded cooler? Let me know in the comments!

Leave your thoughts, your own story beginning/ending, flash-fiction, or whatever in the comments! Where did umbra or my story take you?

If you want to read something along these lines, check out my short story The Devil’s Tri-Tone. A “horror” story (not gory horror) with a fun twist!

Today’s word is from Merriam-Webster.

Get THE WORD Every Day!

Enjoy a One-Minute Story, Learn a New Word, and Create With Me! Delivered to you every Tuesday and Thursday morning.

Tags dark spin