Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

October 18, 2019, 04:25:32 PM
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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti


Word of the Day
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Author Topic: Transport  (Read 240 times)
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« on: August 22, 2018, 05:37:02 PM »

She put the ripe orange to her nose and inhaled.  The astringent dry citrus aerosol flew into her nose like a tiny mid-afternoon warm gravity defying sun shower in early autumn.  The leaves were falling and painting the moist street a torrent of rich burnt browns, red and orange.  It was as if the natural earth was triumphantly reclaiming what was once hers from man and his machinations.  #Autumn too - Yellow is less prevalent, like a cameo character on a TV show.   The wind kicked up gently and you hear the soft rustling of leaves like a gentle lullaby for the summer from mother earth.  Squirrels dash after each other in circles and then slingshot off in random directions, one after the other.  The damp air smells of herbal tea, a clean type of earthy, one you wouldn't mind tasting it was so pure.  She stops a while at a park bench and thinks, "if only this moment could freeze in time and I could stay here."  But alas, it cannot.  Freezing is the winters job.
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