Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Week in Seven Words #59

badge
One afternoon I get an email. I read it with a slow smile that I feel in my chest. Over the next couple of days I think of that email as a badge pinned to me, that only I can see for now.

frizzy
She's a pink zig-zagging imp with a head of flaxen curls.

fuzzy
Language has logic, to an extent. To what extent, we wonder, staring at the spreadsheet in silence.

magnitude
The photos show things that have always seemed solid and sturdy, like houses, floating or flattened with everyone and everything in them.

mantilla
Rundown porches are veiled in pink blossoms.

pungent
From layers of fresh mulch and fertilizer, daffodils start to test the air in small isolated clumps.

snuffed
A candle burns next to the photos of five people who were murdered in their beds; one of them was an infant, her eyes in the photo scrunched up in sleep.