Tuesday, July 20, 2010

One Word~vase©

I'd never worked in pottery before.. the whole idea of getting my hands dirty with clay was far beyond anything I felt like doing.  Still, I'd watched 'Ghost' six times, and the instructor was hot...so, why not? 

One night, I stayed late--he'd almost given up on my ever centering a lump of clay.  I'd almost given up on his ever noticing the gap in my shirt every time I leaned over the pottery wheel.

Sometimes, things change. 

He discovered my, um, talents lay beyond making cups and vases...and I discovered art tables weren't just for art.

Sometimes, creating art can take on many forms--at least that's what I'm telling myself.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

New Address!!

I'm now a .net!!


www.quinbrowne.net



I hope you'll join me there...


Wow, that sure sounded cheesy.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

One Word~President

Marilyn's dream was to sing to Jack, to let him know how important he was in her life. She wiggled and squirmed and flirted her way into that very dream, finding herself in a dress so tight she had to be sewn into it, standing in front of the mic, shading her eyes in order to see exactly where he sat in the crowd, tapping the mic, then launching into a breathy rendition of "Happy Birthday".

It was just as she'd seen it over and over in her mind... with the exception she was a 58 year old woman whose body had given birth to (and not recovered from) 4 children and he was the President of her bowling league.

Still, a dream is a dream, and she enjoyed hers to the last note.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

One Word~Blocks

Billie was not a pleasant child.

She never felt it was necessary to share any of her toys, including the Barbie dolls. She did, however, allow others to play with her little alphabet blocks. It let her to throw them very hard at those who played with her without having to accept responsibility for harm done.

She found amusement in watching how much damage could be done by a well aimed wooden toy.

Her neighbor, Judy "One-Eye" Jones, didn't.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

hush

Silence is golden, it is said.

Golden when shared in comfort. Golden when you are alone, letting it gild your world. Ah, but, when used to ignore, silence is lead. A club wielded with great power...stronger than screaming harsh words. It is isolating, a declaration of control, a blanket of disdain.

I am smothered in its folds.

one word~keychain

he'd loved her deeply, and spent time with her, slowing winning her attention, her affection, her love in return.

"i give you my heart.", she said... smiling into his eyes.

with that phrase, he took that heart... used the proper chemicals to shrink and preserve it, and eventually put it on his keychain--joining the others already there.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

one word~nuclear

the nuclear meds filled her body, made her radioactive. after a length of time, they faded and her children came back home to live, wondering where they could sit and protect her future grandchildren.

she assured them there was no problem, she'd found an old blanket and sat on it, later throwing it away.

the son looked at her beaming face.

"a blanket, mom? you sat on a blanket to stop radiation?"

"yes!" she said, voice full of pride.

"wow. good idea. shame the people of hiroshima didn't think of blankets."

she stood, feeling silly for what she'd done, surrounded by their loving laughter.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

life

just when you think you’ve hit calm waters, currents take you out deep, where the waves are massive, where the riptide grabs you and keeps...and you think…

….i really, really don’t like the ocean.

Friday, February 26, 2010

one word~lawyer

jules argued her case like a seasoned lawyer.

she laid out points of law, logic and closed with a plea that would have won over the most cynical of juries.

it made no difference. the judge and jury were wrapped up in the body of one person, who held complete power over her as she stood there, worn out by her words and the emotions that wove through them.

he smiled, gave her kudos for her well thought out presentation, said how she'd moved him... and shot her anyway.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

one word~hook

the hook was easy... give them a bit of time with the game, and let them think they could win.

afterward, when they are putting down money right and left, you do a bit of a switch up, and they'll continue to accept losing, not realising what you've done--that you've changed the rules to suit you.

it worked for years for james...until he met laura... who knew the hook, the set up and the game far better than he did. by the time she was done, he'd lost his money, his car--his heart.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

one word~cash

she never had cash--she worked on the barter system.

food for housework, clothes for watching children, a car for sex.

don't call her a prostitute...call her a wife.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

one word~delicate

her skin was delicate, fragile, that old woman skin that appears to be translucent.

the rip caused by the knife opened it up like tissue paper. blood welled for a moment, then poured out with real purpose.

this was the delight he found in old ladies.. the scent of their skin, the purity of their cries of fear, the destruction of their being.

it made him god.

Friday, January 8, 2010

one word~burst

i don't like this one...but, i promised myself i'd post good and bad.



it had burst.

that big earthen damn dam built back in 1943 by my great granddad who said he had learned the skill working for the wpa in the depression.

he must have learned it well, since it held up 60 someodd years before it popped like a water balloon, sweeping up everything we owned before the swath of water pouring out of the crack.

the last i saw great granddad, his casket was surfing the crest of that wave, flying forward into the cold spring day.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

to top it off

i wrote this piece for a contest over at clarity of night--finally posting it here.

he has another contest going, have a gander if you feel like something that can earn you some cash!


To Top it Off




So, I just talk into the microphone?

Right. We’d met via the internet, the shadkhen for the 2000’s... who needs a person? You use the internet for dating, hooking up...marriage. We met, we courted.. we had our first sexual experience . On computers. A year of talking, emails and a lot more virtual sex later, he flew to Chicago from Los Angeles, I’m at baggage check, holding a sign, in case the real me didn’t look like the virtual me. We had the initial greeting, our faces not sure which way to go as we moved in for the hug/kiss--awkward, right?

So, off to a great place that served famous pizza in a town known for pizza. There, it all started to crumble. I noticed when he spoke to me, he moved his fingers on the table as if typing. I ordered a beer (with pizza, you have beer, right?) and he chose “...a nice red wine, not too earthy”. Then, then, he did something that proved this had become a momentous FUBAR. I could have lived with the girth I’d never seen before, his staring at my chest when he spoke, even the fuckin’ pretentious wine. It ended when he eschewed my suggestion of sausage and olives, choosing ham and pineapple.

Ham. And. Pineapple.

Okay, granted, sending him back to L.A. was a smarter choice than the one I took--that whole stabbing him in the eye with my fork.

But, really, ham and pineapple?