My pick of the week is Mr. Gabriel Gadfly, a poet, who wrote this heart-wrenching piece.

Life Support
A heart cannot pull away from its veins.
At the corridor’s end, one step shy of snapping
the arteries that bind me to you, I turn and flee
to your bedside, my fearful heart beating its fists
on the white doors of your room, as if it might find
them locked and barred, but they open, they
still accept me, you still sleep, dreaming to the
hushing lullabies of your respirator. Your hand is
warm and I imagine your fingers curl, just a little,
around mine. I’ll stay here until you wake up.
I’ll stay here until you wake up.

I would highly recommend you spend some time on his site browsing his other poetry.

The prompt this week is from “The Children’s Book” by my favorite author, A.S. Byatt.

FINGERS

And then some weeks are like this one where as I read through the entries I find myself giggling, or nodding, or sitting back in my chair to think, or swept off into a vivid scene.  How to choose then?

That’s when it comes down to mood and setting. It’s raining here this morning — a chilly rain. Summer is dying and already I’m longing for a crackling fire and comfort foods. Meet Bliss and the souffle.

Such Great Heights

She beats eggs until they billow above the lip of her bowl. They form shiny, stiff peaks.

A chocolate custard, smooth, thick, voluptuous, bubbles on the stove.

She gently folds them together, until the white disappears.

Lovingly spoons the mixture into a ridged, round dish, capped with a parchment crown.

Slides it into the oven.

Waits. Glides quietly through the house. Hums to Chopin on the radio.

Opens the oven door and spies a lift so high, it rises above the parchment.

Giddy, she removes the souffle: Airy. Light.

Within moments, it falls. And sinks. And slumps: Dense. Heavy.

Failed.

I can’t wait to be in the kitchen baking.

Now for some admin.

• If you don’t already know, 100 words is now on Facebook. This allows for non-bloggies to get their 100 words on, so be sure to visit the page and leave encouraging comments for the 100 word-nerds there too.
• There are now three places to find the current prompt. That week’s post (hint: you’re reading it), on the home page if you scroll down below the line of category boxes you’ll see “What’s the Word?”, and on the Facebook page on the left side bar in the box below “suggest to friends”.
• If you’re a participating blogger please be sure to link back here so your readers can join in if they feel so moved.
• The link tool I’m using asks me to set open and close dates. Last week I set it to close on Friday, but from now on the ability to post a link will be set from Monday through Saturday midnight eastern time.

This week’s word is from Topology of a Phantom City by Alain Robbe-Grillet.

Corridor

The walls are so thin here you can join in on a conversation two rooms down. It makes eavesdropping more of an unavoidable activity than a stealth one. And as hard as I tried, there’s just no way to transform a 1950′s raised-ranch into a a cozy, colorful, funky home. The best we could go for was “Classic Claustrophobic and Cluttery”.

Just not my style.

And yet I find my heart breaking with every box sealed with tape and added to the pile. The next place will not be entirely my own. It will be the end of an era, neatly situated as I personally turn over my 4th decade.

And I just  want to pause for a moment.  Make something clear.

There are no “winners” for this challenge. When I go through and I read your 100 words on a topic, I’m not looking for best grammar, or best writing. What I choose is based on whatever strikes me, speaks to my heart (or head) that particular week, and more often than not, what I choose just serendipitously collides with something in me.

So when you write, do so from the heart and from the gut. Not for me. Not to win. Because that’s what this is about.

What spoke to me this week? From “Write in Amazement“:

“Where’d you get this?” he asked turning the filthy cross over in his hands. “Jist worthless junk.”

The girl reached out for the tarnished relic. “It’s mine.”

“You messin’ in the alley, girlie?”

“I found it in the trash.”

“Well it ain’t yers and we don’t need no more garbage in here,” he said dropping her treasure to the floor.

Twenty years later she perched on the edge of the chair as the man peered over his glasses at her while cradling the piece as if it were the Mona Lisa. “Where did you get this? It could be priceless.”

I’ve experienced that. Having someone rain all over my discovered treasure parade for no other reason than that person is unhappy and has gotten all twisted up in such a way that they only want to destroy any hope. Keep your treasures folks.

This week’s word is the product of my packing for a move. One thing I’ve got more than enough of is books, and at this moment there are piles and boxes of them waiting for transport. Remember that classic, “How to Win Friends and Influence People”? That one was at the top of a pile closest to me. The “I-borrowed-this-book-ages-ago-and-it’s-high-time-I-returned-it” pile.

The word is:

FAILED

For the rest of the roundup, go here.

Please note!  I’ve now added a linky code to the 100 Word posts so that you can post a link right here.  Below the line, click “Click Here to Enter” and follow the instructions.

Anyway, the new digs are looking good, don’t you think? Yes, the header is bugging the hell out of me (I’m not a perfectionist – shut up!) and I still don’t know how I’m ever going to resolve finding a way to post without an image. Those details aside – even if they DO keep me up at night – it’s time to bring the 100 Word Challenge back home. As of Monday, August 16th, the 100 Word Challenge will be back under way here at Velvet Verbosity.

AND — are you ready for this?  I’ve created a…wait for it…wait for it…

I’ve created a FACEBOOK page for 100 Words!  I know, right?  Crazy.  But in my line of work I already manage a couple other Facebook pages, and it’s a lot easier for me to stay on top of that then it can sometimes be to manage a blog.  AND, I’m really excited about the possibility of opening the challenge up to non-bloggers.  I know it’s shocking, but not everyone has a blog (here, breathe into this bag).

I hope you’ll help the cause by clicking the old “Like” button and passing it on to your writery friends.

With love,

VV

(awwww, remember my old signature?  I need to make a new one.  Sigh, so much work.)

• My old header won’t work with this theme, and…
• What size header the theme will accept seems completely nonsensical.  I’m sure there’s a magic height and width and once I figure that out I’ll worry about investing time in creating something that actually, you know, looks nice.
• The theme is designed to display photography, which I like, but…the theme is designed to display photography, not posts on 100 words, or posts without an image. If I don’t include an image, it displays all funky and unattractive on the home page.  Oy vey.
• Same but different, I’m also trying to figure out what to do when I want to write a post that isn’t associated with a photo I’ve taken.  Like word portraits, for which I had previously used others’ artwork.  Word portraits just won’t work with any photo I could take.  They are usually about strangers so I can’t get a photo of them, and also don’t want to. The point of the word portraits is to paint an image of someone with words.  Yet, to use someone else’s artwork when the site displays images so prominently seems like it could easily be mistaken for trying to steal credit.
• I am baffled, BAFFLED by the organization on the home page.  As an example, I set the category of “The City” to “Places” and yet it’s displaying it under the category…oh wait, I just realized what’s going on there.  Never mind.

So, that’s what I’m wrestling with.  I’ve set up the 100 Words instruction page, and as soon as I figure out just a couple more things, we’ll move 100 words back over here.

See you soon!

The movement never stops — rivers of people flowing in all directions across the grid on foot, in cars, by bus, and under the ground.

Among the highlights of our three days in Manhattan…standing atop Tudor City, a Brooklyn block party and a serendipitous meeting with a photographer who turned out to be my brother’s best friend, breaking out in poison ivy (in the city, I know), radiating heat, old friends, new friends, family, the best ice cream E V E R (except that time in Germany), 39 Steps off-Broadway, the Empire State Building, subway drummers, and my new favorite breakfast sandwich and smoothies at Energy Kitchen.

Miksang is a Tibetan word that translates as ‘Good Eye’, and is based on the Shambhala and Dharma Art teachings of the late meditation master, artist, and scholar Chögyam Trungpa, Rinpoche.

Spontaneous road trip today.  House empty, heart longing, led me onto the road to see what I could see.  Found myself in a small town in the mountains, the streets all rolled up and the shops all closed.  Lanky boys rode by on their low-slung bicycles, warily eyeing me as they sipped soft-drinks through straws.

I chased afternoon shadows and light, peered into shop windows, lazily made my way down side streets, letting the colors and heat wash over me.

That’s always fun.

My mother says that’s when you pull out the baby pictures — to remind yourself why you did this to yourself.  You know. Voluntarily gave birth to people you would have to live with, be responsible for, and who would spend several years thinking you were annoying at best, the scourge of the very earth at worst.

It’s been a while.

It’s also going to be a little while longer.  I don’t think it’s a secret at this point that I’m a bit of a luddite when it comes to backend IT stuff.  In fact, I avoid it at all costs, which means I have a backup but I’m not sure how to use.  I’m not even sure it’s the right kind of backup.  And it’s from February, so some stuff will be lost.

I can’t even think about it.  All that lost content.

But here I am, again claiming my own little corner of the internets.  I chose this theme because I plan on sharing more of my photography this time around.

Here we go.