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.

New Address!!

I'm now a .net!!


www.quinbrowne.net



I hope you'll join me there...


Wow, that sure sounded cheesy.

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.

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.

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.

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.