Week #148 of the Weekly (formerly Saturday) Wordzzle Challenge. As seems to be my pattern in recent weeks, I'm running late. I did get my 10-word done, but I think I'll post Mr. Linky in case anyone else is ready and waiting for him.
Late night addition. Had a hard time with these words. I apologize for the poem. It's awful, but I was desperate.
Words for this week's 10-word challenge were: sharp as a tack, paper towels, sage, boiling water, mystery, salivate, news worthy, try it on for size, pardon, ambulance And for the mini: misery, saga, flat as a pancake, pearls, octagon
Awakening in the ambulance, Margaret tried to remember the events leading up to her presence there. She was usually what people called "sharp as a tack," but at the moment she felt confused and disoriented. There was a phrase buzzing in her head - "pardon me, but why don't you try it on for size," but she could not for the life of her remember what it was that she was supposed to try on for size or even if there was such a thing. The voice seemed familiar but unknown if that made any sense. It was like a bad movie mystery. It wasn't amnesia. She was pretty sure she knew who she was. Over the next few hours things began to come back to her in flashes of visual and sensory memory. First there was a pot of boiling water and then the aroma of mushroom soup - a memory so intense that she actually began to salivate at the mere memory of it. Then there was a flying blur, a roll of paper towels in mid air and a crashing sound. In time the flying blur solidified into the image of her very foolish and naughty cat - how could she have given this incorrigible animal the name Sage, she wondered - landing on the stove, burning his paw, flying off again sending the pot of boiling soup in her direction, along with the roll of paper towels. In her effort (successful) to dodge both cat and soup, she had fallen and bumped her head. Her terrified son had found her unconscious on the kitchen floor, called an ambulance and the rest was history. Apparently it had been such a slow day the the event had been deemed news worthy by the local TV station and she and the foolish Sage (who was fine, by the way) were now celebrities of a sort. It was all too much for the reclusive Margaret. Next time, she though to herself, I'm getting a gold fish.
Jane Williamson was a portrait in misery. Her beautiful hair that she had worked so hard to curl and comb and tease into elegant style was now as flat as a pancake. Her magnificent new dress with the octagon pattern was stained and tattered and her treasured string of pearls - her grandmother's pearls - lay in pieces on the floor. Seeing her tear stained face, her young husband swept her into his arms, kissing her tenderly. "It's ok. Love. He was a wise enough young man to just hold her and let her cry. The saga of what had befallen her could wait until she was ready to tell it. She, for her part, was grateful for this, more, perhaps than she would ever be able to tell him. Somehow the realization of what a lucky woman she was to have this man for a husband, put the tragedy of a ruined dress in perspective and allowing herself the secluded comfort of his arms, she whispered. "I Love You, Dan."
And the mega:
Misery thy name is me
I'm a truly dreadful cook, you see
Sharp as a tack in many ways
I fail consistently at souffles
Flat as a pancake they emerge
I tried one time to roast some fowls
But they tasted more like paper towels
I dropped some clams in boiling water
And nearly poisoned my friend's daughter
Taste my cooking and there's a chance
You'll get to ride in an ambulance
I've tried so often to create
A dish to make one salivate
In an effort not to play the fool
I enrolled myself in cooking school
There was an ad that caught my eyes
"Our apron: Try it on for size...
If cooking for you is a mystery
We'll teach you first gastronomy
Sage master chefs will teach you how
To offer meals and now just 'chow'
News worthy meals you'll soon prepare
Your skills will be beyond compare
Never again you'll burn the roast
Guests your skills will happily toast
We're Octagon Culinary Center
Your life will change the day you enter."
I figured I couldn't get much worse
And maybe they could break the curse.
Thus my life began anew
A saga strange as it is true
I hope you'll pardon my conceit
But now my cooking can't be beat
My restaurant's called Chef Pearl's Delight
Critics say the food's "just right"
And "makes the heart and taste buds glad"
"Best damned meal I ever had."
For me I'm happy as I can be
I hope you'll have a meal with me
My tale is strange but it is true
And now I'm off to make some stew.
Word for next week's 10-word challenge: happy endings, charitable, shapeless, magical, mushroom soup, spectator, enclosure, one hand tied behind my/your back, pregnant, pretending
And for the mini: origami, book review, spinster, vultures, cheese
Thanks you for playing. Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.