Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

October 18, 2019, 05:08:57 PM
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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti

Saturday-Homesick



Word of the Day
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1  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Flip Flops on: August 20, 2019, 11:47:14 PM
Thanks a lot for taking the time to read and write your comment.
I’ll pay attention to descriptions like that one then! Thanks Fireystarter!
2  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Flip Flop on: August 17, 2019, 09:19:22 PM
Lovely how you set the scene in the first line... and the whole thing turned more sense-based at the last paragraphs I think.
Good job
3  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Flip Flops on: August 17, 2019, 09:16:44 PM
I remember Anna with her flip flops, riding on her beige scooter, on the beach she always had her shoulders lying, her eyes half open, that day we laid with a bunch of friends on the blanket in the sand, a white and black blanket, we had bags of chips, some bottles of wine, fuet, ... it was night and we could barely see each other's faces ... Anna smiled showing her brackets, as usual ... I liked that corner of Barceloneta, where the volleyball courts were, the wooden deck ... the sound of all the steps on that wooden floor, as if they were horses ... people walk from side to side watching the beach, pointing at the panorama and taking pictures, putting on their best poses as if they were going to win prizes ... always happens there is one out of control, trying to make a more striking pirouette or have the best photo, bending his arms or head standing ... I loved to go through the supermarket before that, buy me the can of sausages, olives, peppers, sausage ... the loaf of bread to put the ham to be Cheap package ranch, perhaps salt and beer was the perfect mix to enjoy the occasional view of topless girls, the carefreeness in the middle of the humidity and the sun, something typical in the Rambla de Poble Nou for example ... where whole families They sat on the terraces, frozen beer glasses, the awnings open, occasionally some skater or father pushing his son from behind while learning to ride a bicycle ... I could walk there for hours, fantasize about my week, relax a little before starting another week of hard work, another week where I was going to be isolated from people ... on weekends I had the opportunity to make one or another new friend or friend, walk along in those streets with smell of shawarma and caramel, pineapple and goat cheese, the juice dripping from the foil, sitting on the sidewalks waiting for who knows what ... just contemplating the variety of people, the thousands of types of hats, the disparity of the couples... Barcelona's summer in a nutshell
4  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Flip flop on: August 17, 2019, 08:25:41 PM
"The sun feels too hot, as if someone is holding a magnifying glass on top of me"... awesome!!
5  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Flag on: July 04, 2019, 04:49:03 PM
The flag of Mexico waved very strong on that highway, from the taxi I could see it, it was impossible not to see it ... although the taxi was driving fast, it was impossible not to see it. One on my right side, up on the pole, the other on my left side, in the middle of the Chapultepec forest. The immense green mass of trees and that flag waving in the middle. The other day It was not in the square, the cold and dry brown concrete seemed to miss it. Still we could see the cathedral, standing like an elegant old lady. Someone was flying a multi-colored kite, it had the shape of an icarus. Its fabrics also played with the wind, making that characteristic sound. Then - Watch out! - That man shouted, the white thread came like an arrow directly to us.
I remember when I practiced Kitesurfing on the beaches of Venezuela, you could feel the constant wind like a motor running, although the water was so brown that it could be confused with the sand, only that you could see small white waves formed on the surface by the amount of breeze shaping them. If you were in the cabin, you had to pull that little wooden door with great strenght, it looked more like a sheet of cardboard. It could barely hold itself with the hinges on the wall. If you let go, the door hit the frame hard, pushed by the wind... you felt that all that was going to disarm at any minute. They were cabins made for kitesurfers, who were not interested in tourism in the least. They just wanted to be carried by the wind on the water, to be one of those colored spots carried by a huge comet, to ride on the flying idea of ​​freedom, with a strong taste of salt in the mouth, the burning in the eyes, the blue horizon in the gaze, forgetting the world and its screams, presidents on a television screen, dressed in formal suits, often wearing hypocrisy, as smelly as a container overflowing with garbage. Sad but true. Sometimes we go as people but we end up being flies in the middle of a giant pile of shit.
6  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Calendar on: June 19, 2019, 03:52:36 PM
the calendar was big, white... it was stuck to the kitchen wall, next to the clock... normally at breakfast I only heard the metal cutlery sticking from the porcelain plates, my mom walked all over the kitchen preparing breakfast for us... I loved the cold Nesquik, the taste of frozen chocolate and the hundreds of ice cubes at that time, it was great.... the foam that was made in the blender also froze, its texture came to resemble a surfboard, spongy but hard, broke like a cookie, ... my sister almost always spilled the coffee with milk on the table, everything was stuck and my mother shouted "again?!!!!" ... but immediately cleaned it.  The drops fell to the floor and it was necessary to clean there too.  They were my school days, I could be about 8 or 9 years old... every day we had breakfast together... my mom would ring the golden bell that was hanging on the front door of the house to let us know that breakfast was ready, although the smell of toast and the noise of the blender coming into the room, warned us.... the white chemise scraped my arms, I never understood why to make the chemises so uncomfortable ... instead the sweater was spongy, soft, ... I always used it no matter how hot it was, although the sun took time to come out ...
7  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / When we went behind the gym... / balance beam on: June 11, 2019, 03:42:03 PM
When we went behind the gym at The Gray Angel School, looking to confirm the chemistry lab mystery, at the afternoon most of the students were gone ... all quiet, in the soccer field sometimes there were people playing, you heard the ball hit the wall, the shouts at the distance "me, me", ... we went silently behind the fence, walking on the grass, and from there we assumed that someone could see ... there was a white statue of the Virgin, it was always full of mold, it was of ceramics on a pedestal, ... we crushed the dry leaves and creaked, we looked for silence still ... in the background and one could see the graffiti brick wall, where Sometimes there were high school kids kissing, it was the point ... the floor was white granite, it was always cold ... you put your hands there and besides the cold in your hands, you could feel the dirty, the sand how it sticks in the palm of your hand ... the halls of the laboratories were dark, the doors closed but almost always without lock .............
8  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Disc on: April 07, 2019, 03:56:10 PM
I love "others did it with fingernails jammed like philips-heads into the toggle"...
Still find the whole exercise a lot of internal description, like thoughts and opinions... are you writing your 6 senses close to your exercise before doing it? That way you can be more aware of letting your senses drive the car.!!

Cheers
L
9  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Disc on: April 07, 2019, 03:52:39 PM
I flip the disc and see the rays of colors how they form multicolored fans, as I turn it some rays seem to come out of the disc ... I think that nobody uses this format nowadays, now it is the touch screen of the mobile, enter YouTube and go through that jungle of information, neon that turns on and off, invasive ads ... like Tokyo in miniature, the millions of people in a hurry crossing the pedestrian crossing, like herds of rainbow ants following their instinct, rivers of people flowing into oceans of uncertainty, manipulation ... the greasy hand that makes the puppeteer dance, the macabre threads that the puppeteer tenses to convenience ... Roger Waters wearing a critical facade but being part of the misery of the dictators, the inflatable pig bouncing and crushing people, like a colorful pool of children playing on the beach, you listen to the wind how it moves the thin palm trees from one side to the other, the sound of dry leaves, I can hear the metal blinds crashing into one another…
10  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Cheese on: April 03, 2019, 04:16:15 PM
In a slowly drizzle dripping motion I watched as the cheese fell from the corners of the chips "... nice move!!

It's hard to stay away from making a story, right? Hahah... cheers!
L
11  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Cheese on: April 03, 2019, 04:12:38 PM
Adriana spreads her arms and hands us the white cheese inside the almost transparent bag, the white cheese stinks through the plastic, the juice drips through the hole in the bag, smells like Mc Donalds’ wet rag, the waitress with bad attitude cleans the white plastic table, hitting it, in her face the misery, the air conditioning is a frosty tornado, an old fried potato bends like an oily chewing gum, like a spoiled girl lying on the wooden bench in the mall, there is a thousand voices in this echo, where I smell the cinnamon that pulls me like a cart carried by horses on top of candy fields, marshmallows ... the marshmallow burns and the bubble turns black like oil, it is infecting the rest of the marshmallow, the rotten apple like wet anime brown, white worms curving and rising are a shower of slime to the surface, want to breathe but can not, are creatures that are drowning in the boat while the water is rising slowly, surrounding algae, smells of mangrove and the promenade of Shady Lake, I took my hand out of the metal boat trying to caress the lake, embracing that familiar moment, which I never thought would end ...
12  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Tennis Racket on: April 02, 2019, 01:24:23 PM
"...the yellow commet streaks across..."
I love this.

It could also go... The yellow commet streaks across and the universe of people screaming for more, I realize I'm no more on Earth as we know it.... "
Hahah

Cheers!
L
13  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Fair on: March 22, 2019, 04:24:35 PM
Eloise, great work.
Would love to see less telling, more showing.  Eg: My eyes were wide... how wide? wide as two planets? felt the itch because of how wide they were? your eyes were two white coins?
Just an idea...
Cheers!
L
14  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Fair on: March 22, 2019, 04:20:33 PM
The children organized themselves in a circle, sitting on wooden boxes painted red, blue, violet, yellow, green ... trying to get the chickens into the little houses. Their children's voices intertwined with each other, superimposing themselves like a quilt, like a forgotten shop window display, the blankets covered by nylons, the dust accumulated on the floor of the showcase ... people pass by and listen to the echo inside. the huge dirty glass dome, a roof that never opens ... the sound of the sunroof's engine, letting in the sunlight, warming my skin like a boiling blanket, the bubbles explode on the surface of the water, making the pot tremble ... Kayla runs with her jaguar slippers, scrape the white granite floor, she wearing her boxers and her loose gray flannel ... like a beige bag where the child enters, puts one foot and then the other ... the competitions were normal on my birthday as a child, children on their colorful bicycles flew over the track, picking up dust and carelessly, smelling the dark chocolate on the birthday cake, the sweet taste of coca cola in my mouth, tastes like piñata, we put the white plastic cups between the rubber and the bike's saddle, we made them sound like bikes, the harder it sounds the better, the bangs of the plastic and you could hear one or another coming out, falling on the floor and leaving everything like a war field, the BMX track was a mine field, you took care not to step on the dirty white cups, I held the steering wheel because it got into the furrows, you bend it to the side but the bike ignores it, sometimes the screws were isolated and then the anguish appeared, the speed without control, the merciless gusts of wind blowing in your face and the loneliness of the fall ... the earth scratched the knee with ...
15  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Road. on: March 21, 2019, 02:33:11 PM
I drove back from the dunes desert, held the steering wheel tightly and passed between the dunes, the beige sand dunes, from which sand is detached as in fabrics, as if it were a veil of a wedding dress ... the layers crossing on the eroded road, the super black asphalt as pure coal and the desolation, almost no other car passed by ... I remember feeling the wind, the gusts pushing the car from one side to the other, huge masses of wind ... I had to hold the steering wheel well because the usual was that the car come out of the lane ... like when the rubber scrapes the white paper and stuck pieces are left, the anger of crumpling the exam sheet and having to erase and erase, to hear the sheet almost break, is a punishment, the red and gray spot remains on the white paper , like a gum that does not want to detach itself from the wood bench, you touch the tiny hard gum mountain under the seat, then your hand smells like mint or cinnamon and you imagine the saliva you do not know, the bubbles and germs living together ... which is common to hippie, that smell of Hindu relish that was always in Devendra’s house, "forbidden to enter with shoes" his mother said from inside, shouting ... a voice that crossed the whole dining room and the room until projecting in the white entrance door, Devendra’s gaze of not being able to do anything, he shrugged and gave in to his submission ... the shoes stacked outside the door, the smell of sweat ... inside also a fair of smells, an incense of lavender that impregnated ---
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