Friday, August 16, 2013

Summertime Scribbling

You know that moment when you know you just have to write? It doesn't matter what your write or if you ever finish it, you just have to write. This phenomenon usually occurs in the summertime when I'm not working or trying to finish a project. It definitely hit me this year! So, here's what my "writing bug" came up with this week. I might be slightly in love with these characters, guys. :) I don't know if you'll see a ton of their personalities in this excerpt, but overall, they are some serious amazing. 

~

We washed and dried the pussy, which he sure didn’t like much. Then we fed him milk until he fell asleep contented in the soft pillows Mama set for him. We were just about to cuddle ourselves in a little circle with The Little Engine that Could when Mr. O’Dell rapped on the door. We knew it was Mr. O’Dell jest about right away, since he’s the only body within twenty miles neighborly enough to beat the tar out of our white panel. He woke the cat, too, which Myra didn’t take kindly to.
Mama opened the door with the kind grace that only she can possibly possess and asked Mr. O’Dell to come in for cookies and tea. Myra and I glanced at each other with a quick nod of understanding and dove under the kitchen table. I pulled Myra’s feet under the tablecloth two seconds before Mr. O’Dell sat down. He squished my ring finger underneath his big ol’ honking work boots. I resisted the urge to yelp out in pain.
“I wonder where the girls have run off to,” Mama said. I imagined her putting a dainty finger to her chin in her usual thoughtful manner. “Ah, they must have taken the cat out to play.”
The cat? I thought. We don’t have the cat. But my thoughts were too quick. I looked over at Myra who was grinning from ear to ear and cuddling our little pussy in her arms. I made sure to shoot her a reproachful stare. If our kitty made the slightest meow, we’d be sure in for it.
We heard the clatter of dishes on the table above as Mama poured tea for Mr. O’Dell. Our mouths watered for Mama’s tea and cookies. She only brought them out when guests were over and we were missing out on a treat in our hideout under the table.
“How can I help you today, Mr. O’Dell?”
He adjusted his position and finally moved his foot, allowing me to pull my fingers out from under his shoe and massage the blood back into them. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they were so numb we had to go and cut ‘em off,” I whispered to Myra.
She grimaced.
“Well, Ma’am, I get home yesterday to find my boy, Clarence, so done beat up that I got to think he’s had a run in with a pack of hoodlums and thieves.”
“Oh my,” Mama gasped.
“Yes, Ma’am, but when I done asked him what happened, he says to me it was your girl Riley.”

“Riley!” I heard her chair squeak and imagined her just about faintin’. “Why, that’s impossible.”     

~

What are your thoughts? Are you as in love with these characters as I am, or not so much? Would you like to see more? Do you think summertime scribbling is a worthwhile endeavor? 

For the Kingdom,


Stephanie 

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