Wordgrove Post & Review

Quoted in the Grove:

Life has meaning only if one barters it day by day for something other than itself.
~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

A pile of rocks ceases to be a rock pile when a man contemplates it with the image of a cathedral in mind.
~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

As for the future, your task is not to foresee it, but to enable it.
~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

EndQuote:
Let a man in a garret but burn with enough intensity and he will set fire to the world.
~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

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Posted from the Grove:

A Disturbance of Helping Hands

 

For Fans of Hands Fanning

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This week’s discussion: Google Proof – Americans are lying about their sexual desires. A short interview long on revelations

https://www.vox.com/conversations/2017/6/27/15873072/google-porn-addiction-america-everybody-lies

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Prewritten for Thurs (07/13) @6pm PT/9 ET is: Short story on title: The Fan

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@Writers Platform:

Glass Table

~Greymane: Burdened

Some say the world is round as reason, balanced by the cracks
I like to think we live in kingdoms grown on turtles backs
Beneath a dome of waters that the Truth won’t let us see
Are castles built of tortoise shell in jungles made of sea
A promise of the painted moon in oceans made of sleep
With towers standing bright against the darkness of the deep
Turtles trudging stardust trails burdened evermore…
A sloppy romping turtle stomp from shore to distant shore

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Prewritten: ambidextrous, preacher

~Piffin: Butterfly Season

I pulled the Pontiac onto the gravel lot of a cheaters’ motel about a mile off the interstate.

Low Rates. Nightly. Hourly.

No Cable. No Air.

The girl had picked it out.

Dark shades and window fans and half-assed neon. A dozen rooms; half as many cars. Bungalows up ’round back.

I parked away from the flood lamps.

We got out of the car. The moon reflected off the hood in twisted smiles.

The girl stretched.

Flying things bombed the motel lights.

The night guy looked like a preacher.

I paid cash.

He eyeballed us.

A lot of people thought I looked like a cop. A lot of people thought she didn’t.

The air was humid, dank. We took the room down the end, away from the ice machine. People were going to be mining that thing all night.

The girl swept the room for bugs. She used a motel fly swatter, carefully pushing aside towels and curtains.

I fell back on a mattress, lost my boots, my blouse, my bra.

The girl took a shower. The steam didn’t help the air in the room any. The fan didn’t move it at all.

There was a radio on the nightstand. I got lucky, found music.

Some guy singing about something.

The girl jumped onto the bed, fired one up.

The dope was good.

The girl was better.

She was ambidextrous.

She could lie with either eye.

She smoked the whole time.

She smoked, after, as she stood with the door open, looking out at the night.

I joined her.

It was hot. She wore sweat well.

There was a siren in the distance. It faded.

I glanced across the lot.

Scalici was still in the trunk of the Pontiac, but he was fine. When binding him, we had duct taped a rabbit water bottle to his head, taped his mouth shut around the sippy spout, so he could work it with his tongue.

It was hot nonetheless.

Just after midnight, we popped the trunk, dumped a bucket of ice on him for laughs.

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~Greymane: ku

Congregation blessed
An ambidextrous preacher
A cross in both hands

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~BarTalk: Ceremony

 

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Impromptu: vulture, dumpling

~Piffin: “Black-tie Gala”

Apple dumpling
Spill, dress rumpling
Kill my crumpling
Sense of splash
Whore to culture
Bouquet mulcher
Stop that vulture
Camera flash
Apple dumpling
All I taste is ash

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~MissMerry: MM Impromptu

Dana sat on the bridge, watching the last shreds of sunrise as it dissolved above the horizon. The sun quickly warming her chilly thin legs as they dangled off the edge.

A vulture flew over the road at the side of the bridge, looking for early morning roadkill dumplings to fill its belly, no doubt. Dana thought for a moment how odd it was to see only one.
Funny, she thought, she supposed they always were in flocks, like the popular kids in school.

Go to school, or not to go to school, that was the question.
Seemed like learning always took a back seat to the drama … you had to be a vulture or a dumpling. She just did not feel like being either today.

Standing, she stretched and brushed a bit of gravel off of her bottom. Smiling to herself she mumbled aloud “Fuck them.” Hearing a truck in the distance, she shouldered her bag and stuck out her thumb

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~BarTalk: un-ku’l

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