- The sound of my husband snoring in bed beside me at night.
- Sipping good coffee while I look out my window in the morning,
- My cat hopping into my lap.
- Gulf coast thunderstorms
- Wine tastings at William Cross
- Listening to my youngest brothers’ stories
- Listening to my sister rant about politics.
- Listening to my other brother talk about his beloved dog.
- Rereading old, favorite books and finding new things to enjoy about them,
- Opening a new tarot deck.
- The sound of water trickling.
- Finishing a chapter in my novel
- The taste of my apple custard pie
- Caramel in any form.
- A game of Mexican train dominos
- Walking down Hyde in San Francisco
- Walking down Magnolia in North Hollywood
- My mother’s artwork
- Any recording of my father’s voice,
- Discovering old, forgotten snapshots.
- Petting a dog,
- Eating good sushi.
- Dinner at Amarena
- A new neighborhood to explore while travelng.
- Cluttered tschotske or book shops
- Someone liking my writing
- Marching for a cause
- Understanding spoken French.
- Gumbo
- A good ghost story.
Tag: dailyprompt
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…of coffee in the morning.
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On top are etched
Old thoughts,
Emphasized through paper.
Over years and decades
Many hands
Pressed their point a bit too hard
And marked the wood.
Now a mist
Of unreadable cursive
Rises through brown pine.
I can hear the deep,
Burbling echoes
Of serious people in suits
Writing what they never said,
Or said later and more calmly
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…beautiful, big, rather expensive umbrella. Sturdy, excellent at keeping the rain off. The first night I used it, I was running through downtown late at night in a downpour. Rounded a corner, saw a homeless woman huddled up against a wall, weeping, holding her hands over her head. Without a word I handed her the umbrella and ran the rest of the way home.
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…opinionated woman.
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I’m the first in my line to forego it.
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That means he woke up on the sofa. (He refused to budge last night when I tried to convince him the bed would be more comfortable.) When he did get up this morning I followed him around with a thermometer until he put it under his tongue. Almost normal temp. He’s now at his desk drinking tea with honey and lemon and waving off my attempts to administer aspirin. Our delighted cat, usually warming herself by the radiator at this hour, is half buried in the deep nest of blankets and pillows left behind on the couch.
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…either braided or worn loose, falling halfway down her back.
Size five black soft-soled shoes. Jeans, a tee, and a plaid cotton shirt. Narrow brimmed straw hat. A brown serape on brisk days.
Buried under all that is me.
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…would I want to bring back dinosaurs?
I enjoyed them as toys when I was five and still unclear on the concept of extinction. The Noah’s Ark at my kindergarten, a wooden boat stocked with little plastic animals, included two brontosauri and three triceratops (one of them a baby), survivors from a plastic bag of dinos the boys had slowly looted. Sometimes those interlopers joined the paired line I’d carefully arrange going into the ark at playtime.I never daydreamed about having them as pets, however, or interacting with them beyond running away if I saw one.
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Just seen its airport during a layover. Would love to see the city itself.
Pam Troy 