FOWC with Fandango — Plant

FOWCWelcome to November 27, 2019 and to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). It’s designed to fill the void after WordPress bailed on its daily one-word prompt.

I will be posting each day’s word just after midnight Pacific Time (US).

Today’s word is “plant.”

Write a post using that word. It can be prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It can be any length. It can be just a picture or a drawing if you want. No holds barred, so to speak.

Once you are done, tag your post with #FOWC and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Or you can simply include a link to your post in the comments.

The issue with pingbacks not showing up seems to have been resolved, but you might check to confirm that your pingback is there. If not, please manually add your link in the comments.

And be sure to read the posts of other bloggers who respond to this prompt. You will marvel at their creativity.

Friday Fictioneers —Bedtime

3573A064-EE88-4AA1-BDB0-6BF512F57005“No, I won’t,” Howie said, folding his arms defiantly across his chest.

“Honey,” his mother said, “it’s just for tonight. Your aunt made the room ready especially for you.

“I won’t sleep in this room tonight,” Howie said, stomping his right foot on the floor.

His mother followed Howie’s gaze to the plant on top of the bookshelf. She reached up, grabbed the plant, and took it out of the room. When she returned she asked Howie again if he would sleep in the room.

“Thank you, Mommy,” Howie said, “for saving me from the giant spider. I love you.”

(100 words)

Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Penny Gadd.

Keeper of the Bloom

F1481FBF-F860-468E-9F2C-46A6F7F62B33How many years had it been since she, as a young child, had been plucked from what was a serene and unassuming life down in the valley? It seemed like it was forever ago that she had been chosen as the keeper of the bloom at the top of the tower.

“Even in your youth, child, you have demonstrated the right amount of courage to take on this challenge,” the elders told her when she was a little girl decades ago. “You must be diligent in your duties to care for and water our sacred flowering plant,” they told her. “It was placed there by God for us to demonstrate our love and devotion to Him. Should the bloom fade and the plant die, so, too, will the people of this valley, for we will have betrayed His love and will no longer receive His protection. Do your bidding, child, and all will be well. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” the little girl responded demurely.

“At the end of each day, upon your return from the tower, you will report to a designated member of the Council of Elders to let him know that you’ve completed your daily task,” the elders instructed.

An old lady now, it took her all day to reach the top of the tower, water the plant, and return to the valley far below. But there was no Council of Elders to report to anymore. No elders at all, in fact. Despite keeping the plant at the top of the tower alive, she must somehow have failed. Despite dutifully carrying out her charge over the decades, God had forsaken the people of the valley, and only she, now a gnarled, hunched over old lady, yet survived.

And on this day, as she completed her task and made her way down the steep, winding tower steps, the old lady stepped on the valley floor, looked around at the empty, barren landscape and uttered her last words. “Fuck this shit. I’m done.”

Written for Hélène Vaillant’s What Do You See? photo prompt. Also for these daily prompts: Your Daily Word Prompt (serene), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (chosen), Word of the Day Challenge (keeper), Ragtag Daily Prompt (courage), and The Daily Spur (report).

#FOWC — Down But Not Out

1E5FB4E1-E8E7-4829-9CBE-D644DD5067B0My page views yesterday were down by nearly 50% from what they were just four days ago. After a cursory review of possible causes, I came to the conclusion that my duties as a tour guide for my out-of-town guests resulted in my writing fewer posts yesterday, posting fewer responses to comments people made on those posts, and reading and commenting on fewer posts by other bloggers.

In fact, I was so busy entertaining our guests that I even forgot to write a post in response to my own one-word prompt, “cursory.”

But far be it from me to allow my precipitous drop in page views yesterday cause me to feel woebegone. Oh no, I’m going to make that feeling of woe be gone. I’m going to plant my feet squarely on the ground, and take my guests on the best tour of San Francisco today that one can imagine.

5330D350-810F-4AD5-B29B-6F7C47F060A1I’ll be like that ant in the fairy tale that my Great Aunt Sally used to read to me. The one about the little ant carrying a huge load many times its size and storing up food for the long, cold winter while the grasshopper sings and fiddles away the summer, leaving it having to beg the ant for help.

(I realize that this Aesop fable, “The Ant and the Grasshopper,” seems to be a bit out of context here, but I had to figure out a way to use the words “great aunt” and “ant” in order to complete Teresa’s Three Things Challenge.)

Written for today’s Word of the Day Challenge, “woebegone,” for Teresa’s Three Things Challenge, where the three things are great aunt, ant, and plant, and for yesterday’s Fandango’s One-Word Challenge, “cursory.”

Friday Fictioneers — Crystal Bowl

9F78C329-0553-4A93-8271-56EA98754BAA“What is that plant doing in my crystal bowl?” Joanna screamed. “Remove it from that bowl immediately!”

“Jeez, Joanna, relax,” Frank said. “I need something to put the plant in for a few days until the planter I ordered from Amazon arrives.”

“That crystal bowl has been in my family for three generation,” Joanna said. “It’s not for plants.”

“Well, what’s it for, then?” Frank asked. “I’ve never seen anything in this bowl other than an accumulation of dust.”

“It’s for show,” Joanna said.

“Great,” Frank said. “Then let it show my plant some love for a few days.”

(99 words)

Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.