Week in Seven Words #579

This covers the week of 2/21/21 - 2/27/21.

anticipation

Two people at opposite ends of a room. They're holding books, but they aren't reading. When will they talk to each other?

arrangements

It's the first time I've been to synagogue in a year. The room downstairs has been organized into islands of chairs. Some islands have one chair, others two. The service is quieter.

coveting

Birds taking off and landing on the feeders, while nearby a chunky squirrel stares, waiting his chance.

mud

The slip squish of mud. Everywhere mud. Most people grumble, but one kid is discovering the joy of a puddle in a field caked in mud and slush. He's not the one who will be washing his clothes later, which is part of what makes him happy.

protected

Sitting in the pool of warmth from an outdoor heater, the cold air pressing in but pushed back.

skin-deep

Our relationship has cooled from genuine warmth to superficial friendliness.

 

tedious

Tired of online events. The small, detached faces, the audio that fails, the lack of energy, the lure of other browser tabs.

Week in Seven Words #578

This covers the week of 2/14/21 - 2/20/21.

ache

We used to sit in this room with its floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and the lamplight on the red couch.

belly

They don't have sleds, but they do have bellies, so they slide down the hill head first, eyes squinting against the dazzle of sunlight on snow.

glimpses

Beyond the dense branches there's light, white and faintly purple.

moved

The silence of snow falling. At the bus stop, he says a brief prayer.

perching

She's gained access to the roof, and from there, she feeds birds.

unbroken

The fact that I have a good night's sleep is worth commenting on. I don't take it for granted.

wobble

Without his job, his days have turned to jello.

Week in Seven Words #567

This covers the week of 11/29/20 – 12/5/20.

crusty

The basin has been drained. It's encrusted in dirt and leaves like diseased skin.

diving

Wake up in a low, grubby mood. Getting to work immediately helps.

radiance

I love the tree that's still bright yellow, a flame awaiting winter with confidence.

reversal

Waisting, sleeting – two seven-letter words, both last minute, that win her the game.

spying

A drone hovers outside the window. Is it filming us? Where is this boundary-wrecking insectile contraption from?

stomping

They stomp around on a lawn caked in wet fallen leaves. They're ecstatic at the crunching, the crumpling.

wafting

Sometimes, what connects people in these socially distanced times, is the smell of Frosted Coconut Snowball hand sanitizer.

Week in Seven Words #563

This covers the week of 11/1/20 - 11/7/20.

buckling

Some stores are getting boarded up again in the event that election results don't turn out as preferred. At least the bookstore is still open.

denizens

Today what engages her mind are the fissures in the rocks. She wonders about the creatures that live in them, real and fantastic.

electoral

Can't get much work done when there's a map of the U.S. to stare at.

forgiveness

"It's easier to forgive others than forgive yourself," she says. I wonder: Do I forgive others more easily because I know them less well, or is it because I see them more clearly than I see myself? 

painfully

The cramps are so painful that when I hear the kettle shrieking, I think the sound is coming from inside my own head.

self-loathing

Self-loathing can feel like a scratchy but familiar sweater. At some point, she forgot that she had the option to remove it. Now she tries to, but can't pull her arms out of the sleeves.

unreassuring

I hear a lot about "a return to normalcy" and "putting the adults back in charge." For many people, this means wanting to know less and think less about the effects of policies and the behavior of politicians. It means less bother and more apathy.

Week in Seven Words #555

This covers the week of 9/6/20 - 9/12/20.

cavernous

Multiple huge escalators in a shopping plaza that used to serve crowds. Now we glide down in near silence.

contrived

Restaurants try to recreate indoor spaces outdoors, with booths that are mostly enclosed. Lively music and colorful decorations are attempted distractions from the stink of the streets and the roar of passing trucks.

determinedly

A fuzzy gray dog shambles up to people for petting. He interrupts a girls' volleyball practice, as his owners tiredly call him back.

earthlings

Among the trees, there's a semi-circle of toddlers, moms, and nannies. Dancing in front of them are three entertainers with masks and face shields. They look like aliens who can't quite breathe our Earth air. But these interplanetary visitors have done their research and know the words to such classics as "The Wheels on the Bus."

sleepily

Mellow sun. We eat a snack by the river, while making conversation and looking out at the Statue of Liberty. By the time we return to the subway, my head is swimming with sun and sugar, and she looks like she's on the verge of a nap.

unearthly

The fungus looks like custard, or like a brain. Something that isn't quite natural. The hollow of a tree has birthed it.

wilted

The park's website instructs us to reserve a time for our visit and show up with tickets. In the park itself, staff have marked the main path with fat circles to show everyone where to stand socially distanced. But very few people are present. The park also lacks its typical displays of art, and the plants look dull, as if they're understimulated from the shortage of visitors.

Week in Seven Words #550

This covers the week of 8/2/20 - 8/8/20.

anuran

I love looking at photos of her holding a frog. I wonder if, like me, she'll have a terrarium in her room at some point.

cleansing

After a storm, the paths are crunchy and slick. The air is also cleaner. It's much less humid; it doesn't cling to your nostrils or stick to your throat. On a hill, in the soft evening light, two people are perched on boulders, their eyes closed as they breathe.

drawing

I draw a wonderful fork. A well-proportioned fork that's recognizably a fork. As for faces... I can draw the same face three times, and it will look like three different people (and not as some kind of intentional artistic statement). Some face variations are interesting and have more character than others.

ducks

The pier is dotted with ducks. They quack against a backdrop of creaking boats.

momentum

What stops us from crossing the path is a thick, unrelenting stream of bicyclists. They yield to no one, and they can barely manage the intense pressure, the high volume. One of them flies out of the stream when his bike hits a fallen branch. He lands hard on the grass and stands up, shaking, half a minute later.

tepid

For the first time in months, I set foot in a library. I half expect it to be a momentous visit. Maybe trumpets will sound from the speaker system. But it's anticlimactic. I grab a couple of books that have already been checked out for me. The librarians are located behind masks and a layer of plexiglass. A security guard, looking supremely bored, sits on a stool by the door.

watery

One fountain spits and crackles. Another one drips. To the west, a stream makes thick, quiet noise. I realize I'm following it correctly when I don't emerge onto a baseball field, but instead spot a pool coated in algae.

Week in Seven Words #549

This covers the week of 7/26/20 - 8/1/20.

ballooned

Before the fast begins, my stomach feels like a water balloon.

evasion

Social distancing is a handy excuse to avoid people whose company is undesirable under normal circumstances.

feathery

Feathery white flowers beside a riverside path. Five geese on a sward by the rocky bank.

grooving

The dancing skaters are back. I love watching their meetup in the park, where anyone with rhythm and a pair of skates can join in (I have one but not the other). Most of them wear masks, and one balances a bottle of water on his head as he flies around in figure eights. 

lightening

A walk transforms profound disquiet into new ideas, and I feel somewhat hopeful.

self-care

The little girl chases her dog across a sunny field. They end up under a tree, in the shade. After catching her breath, she orders the dog to chase her. She runs away from the tree and waves her arms. Her parents urge the dog to run after her. But he's a smart dog. He isn't trading the relief of the shade for the mercilessness of the sunshine.

slurred

Wearing the night guard makes me sound like a boxer (the athlete, not the dog).

Week in Seven Words #543

This covers the week of 6/14/20 - 6/20/20.

badgering

The ducklings snap at dragonflies.

cheep

The perpetual cheeping of two chicks, one of them cupped in the careful hands of a preschooler.

distortion

I share one of my fears with them. Spoken aloud, it sounds ridiculous, overblown. There's a small chance of it becoming real, but I've taken those small odds and distorted them in my mental house of mirrors.

guarded
Fewer shops are boarded up, but Times Square is still barricaded. We stop to drink water near a couple of stone lions. They're guarding a library that admits no visitors now.

rerouted

A distraught older woman tries to squeeze past a police barricade. Her doctor's office is on this street, and she has an appointment. The police don't let her pass. They give her convoluted directions for getting into the building from another street.

summery

He looks like a poster for California tourism. Wearing swim shorts, a Hawaiian t-shirt, and reflective shades, he's sprawled out on a pool float shaped like an ice cream cone.

uncovered

We've walked past this part of the park multiple times, and it's only now that we spot a small memorial to the Warsaw Ghetto. The heart of the memorial is a plaque flat on the ground.

Week in Seven Words #541

This covers the week of 5/31/20 - 6/6/20.

boarded

Many stores are getting boarded up, including a book store. The displays of books disappear behind the extra layer of defense against looters. (I don't know if looters would go for a book store when it's surrounded by more likely targets, the ones full of clothes, jewelry, and electronics.) Some restaurants and bars are boarded up too; some may already be out of business. 

curfew

There's a curfew on the city, reminding residents that it's easy for authorities to curtail and control.

defensively

Reasons for dishonesty are varied. Sometimes, it's all about shame. Shame and self-protection. Not about trying to hurt anyone or take anything away from other people.

imagined

Two girls are playing in an artificial stream cut into concrete. They carry pails and pretend they're at a beach fringed by a forest, where ocean water mingles with fresh water among the tree roots.

off
They've settled in a field in the park, but even an open field is off-limits. A guy in a motorized cart enjoys the sound of his own voice, amplified with a megaphone, as he orders everyone to leave.

twilit

The cloudy day feels like a 24-hour twilight. In the part of the park that we're cutting through, the buildings are unseen, the paths unmarked.

unfolded

An egret gliding like a white, unfolded napkin taken up by the wind.

Week in Seven Words #539

This covers the week of 5/17/20 - 5/23/20.

acquainting
I hear about them secondhand, and I'm happy they're doing well. I don't feel an urge to see them. Social distancing has clarified a few things about relationships – the friends I'm closer to, and the acquaintances I'm fine with sending pleasant wishes to from a distance.

careening

Bike riders and pedestrians shouldn't be sharing a narrow path.

conquest

Rats extend their shadowy empire to heavy shrubs, parked cars, defenseless basements. 

fuels

One assignment this week is a deep dive into the energy industry. Fascinating how much technology goes into producing fuel.

lawyers

One lawyer has a special kind of smarminess. It fills his eyes like oil. The other lawyer is sedate and detached, as if half his mind is on other cases or personal concerns.

mechanical

One jogger lets out huge stiff bursts of air, as if he's a machine pumping across the park.

muzzled

Children peddle around furiously on bikes and tricycles. Their eyes are bright above their masks.

Week in Seven Words #525

This covers the week of 2/9/20 - 2/15/20.

fever

His face is beaded with sweat. On his nightstand, a thermos is perched on a short stack of books, and beside it a bottle of over-the-counter fever reducer.

frigidly

Our fingers are numb and chilly from handling wet bags of celery in a stiff wind.

gritting

Wounded, she staggers back to her feet, her jaw set.

outlet

Their backyard is a narrow rectangle, just big enough for the kids to take their noise outside for a while.

pausing

Some of my most peaceful moments that day are on an elevated subway platform, waiting for the train. It's a lull in my schedule. The day is cold, but the sun is steady, and I can stamp some warmth into my feet.

retrieved

A bit of biology knowledge – on meiosis – floats up to consciousness at a critical moment. Sometimes you don't know when you'll need to know something.

scavenging

The leftover fruit, soft with rot, is tempting. They shuffle closer to snatch up the firmer specimens, while ignoring every barked order to leave.

Week in Seven Words #524

This covers the week of 2/2/20 - 2/8/20.

cheerful

A girl riding on her dad's shoulders raises her pink mittens to a drizzly sky.

crunchy

The sunlight crackles on salt-encrusted streets.

eructation

The gutters are belching litter into a foul-smelling wind.

inert

She has no illusions about what she'll learn. She has little hope that she'll do better. The next few hours are just a way to pass the time.

limitations

They fall back on what sound like programmed responses. A "hm" in response to an observation. A tiny set of one-word answers to any questions you may have. Chunks of your own speech echoed at you. Their eyes drift to a wall, a window, and rest expressionlessly.

touches

She thinks of how to make every corner of her home more lovely. The flowers I come across while climbing the stairs make me smile.

withdraws

"I don't belong in school," she says. But where does she belong? She doesn't know. Maybe there's a quiet room somewhere with a door that locks, a pair of ear buds, and a phone.

Week in Seven Words #518

This covers the week of 12/22/19 - 12/28/19.

again
Her dollhouse, I discover, has musical features. So that I won't forget about these features, she replays them repeatedly.

alleviating
In the car, I'm a little nauseous from lack of sleep and a breakfast of a single square of chocolate, which seems to hop around like a checker piece in my stomach. What helps is a walk through the parking lot in the mostly fresh air.

halted
I'm struck most by a sculpture inspired by Abraham and Isaac, the near sacrifice of the son by the father. The father figure looks tense and determined but nonetheless reluctant, holding back at the sight of his adult son kneeling with throat bared. The son is prepared, appears not to resist at all, but his fists are clenched.

potbelly
One museum guard allows me to keep my small backpack on me, as long as I wear it in front, like an artificial potbelly. Another guard tries to get me to return to the coat check with it, but I clutch my potbelly protectively and defend it from removal.

seasonal
Scuffed-up stairs and tired-looking stoops are showered with tinsel and potted shrubs.

spotted
A deer among fallen branches by an empty swimming pool.

wintry
An elegant bridge and brittle ice, bare trees and dark, cold water.

Week in Seven Words #516

This covers the week of 12/8/19 - 12/14/19.

aromatic
The holiday market is a dense, sweet-smelling mass of pine and cider. Clustered booths of ornaments, jewelry, scarves, and glossy desserts are overrun by curious and restless shoppers.

doubting
She questions my safety to a ridiculous extent. Sometimes I wonder how much of what she voices is concern versus a vague impulse to undermine my sense of competence.

frosty
It's so cold outside, our fingers are burning with it, as if ice is being rubbed all over them. The metal seats pour more cold into our butts and backs. We huddle into ourselves and share a small bag of lime ranch potato chips.

hospitably
The bookstore where I donate a bunch of DVDs has a friendly, barn-like feeling. You're expecting authors to roost in the rafters, dropping pages of their latest drafts.

slammed
The subway doors slam against my arms, punishing me for my unwillingness to wait for the next train.

spiritless
The second bookstore looks like the backdrop to an upscale magazine photoshoot. It's stylish, with lots of dark wood and gleaming hardcover books, but it feels inert and uninviting. You could easily imagine a few models in overpriced clothing posing next to the pristine cookbooks. An area devoted to books on wine is close to the children's section. There are no kids around.

withdrawn
He's tired, so his thoughts spiral inwards. His eyes glance off the rows of trumpeting angels, the massive tree in the background, and the crowds holding up their phones to capture the scene.

Week in Seven Words #515

This covers the week of 12/1/19 - 12/7/19.

algebra
For one kid in the group, algebraic equations can't be fully trusted. The variables are weird and nebulous. Arithmetic is more familiar ground; one can walk on it sure-footed.

filler
Slogans, self-promotion, and meandering intros leave much less time for substance.

flashes
When asked, she says she doesn't like any books, movies, or shows. Just the Internet, here and there, like funny little things she sees on Snapchat.

litter
Trash bins are scattered liberally around the park. The trash itself is scattered liberally around the bins.

niche
Somehow it's still in business, but I'm not complaining: A tiny movie theater that shows interesting but unpopular documentaries to an audience of three or four people.

outside
We arrive at the supermarket as it's closing. Left outside, we stare through the glass at the last few shoppers while the freezing wind batters us.

shutting
One of the politicians on stage says, "We're all glad about the city's minimum wage laws." From the audience, a woman who owns a small business raises her hand and begins to express some kind of doubt or disagreement. The politicians swiftly talk over her, to get the town hall event back on track, they say. Because even during the Q&A, they need to maintain a tight, controlled environment that allows for only certain kinds of questions or opinions to surface.

Week in Seven Words #514

This covers the week of 11/24/19 - 11/30/19.

cafeteria
Gossip, bickering, utensils rustling, the scrape of chairs, the shuffle of sore feet.

cathode
He's happy that I've finally agreed to let him buy me a TV to replace the outdated (but still functioning) cube I've been using so far.

choosing
I sign up for some health insurance, avoiding a pushy salesperson and opting for website enrollment. Not really happy with different aspects of the coverage, but it seems the best of a sorry bunch.

fishy
Currently, his favorite stuffed animals are fish. He lines them up on the carpet, while his older brother asks if it's normal for a kid to have so many stuffed fish. (Responding with a pun, carp-e diem, probably isn't acceptable.)

germy
Bogged down with a cold, she receives orders to quarantine herself at one end of the table.

liberate
I loosen the manacles of emotional manipulation and set out to do as I planned.

perusing
Even late in the evening, the bookstore is full of people who have wedged themselves onto windowsills and into narrow aisles to read.

Week in Seven Words #513

This covers the week of 11/17/19 - 11/23/19.

benumbed
Three cops in the lobby of a small health clinic, boredom heavy in their eyes and the droop of their faces.

committed
His passion is helping people grapple with a clunky, overburdened, often unfair system. While his suggestions for health insurance don't suit my circumstances at the moment, I'm sure other people find what they need through his assistance.

constructs
After sharing some useful information about dinosaurs and shark attacks, she builds box-like structures out of colorful magnetic tiles. I show her how a well-placed triangle can help keep them upright.

corralling
Enjoying good company in a dim, crowded restaurant while trying to keep a swarm of anxieties penned up in the back of my mind.

depressive
Looking through current health insurance options isn't doing much for my well-being.

glided
Two cross-town bus rides, a doctor's visit, a bookstore stop, and lunch at a restaurant that serves excellent carrot and ginger soup. Liquid sunshine on store windows and gentle blue skies.

stakes
He really wants to win the game, you can tell. He takes on a tone of faux friendliness, begins to insist to everyone in the group that none of this is important. His mouth flattens into a quivering line. After he loses again, he pushes away from the table to buy a beer.

Week in Seven Words #506

This covers the week of 9/29/19 - 10/5/19.

autumnal
The leaves are turning a spangly orange and gold. Coolness is working its way into the warmth of the day.

kindly
I respect how attentive she is to other people. She pauses in the middle of praying to make sure someone has a seat, and to soothe an elderly lady who thinks she's been transported to a date decades earlier.

mailing
The kids find a way to amuse themselves by chucking their shoes through a hole in the net. "Special delivery!" they shout.

multitask
When I return, I find her asleep on the couch with her fingers still suspended in front of her, her freshly painted nails drying. As good a time as any to catch up on some sleep.

pained
She's seized by moments of querulousness, and it's best to let them slide. Her hours are often pinched with pain, and one day washes into another.

purpose
What I touch I must try to make good.

salvaging
It's impossible to start over completely, he says with dimmed eyes, but you do the best you can.

Week in Seven Words #504

This covers the week of 9/15/19 - 9/21/19.

bears
She likes being read to while she's being fed. And she likes repeated readings. This time, it's the Berenstain Bears and a dinosaur bone that goes missing from a museum. After the nth such reading, I sit across from her and her dad with a book about a different bear: Corduroy. She switches chairs and settles in for another story that bears repetition.

compliment
She tells me that her favorite teacher, a humanities teacher, resembles me, which is why it's her favorite class.

delights
She repeats the name of her car's model, in bursts of delight.

fisherman
His interest in wrestling has diminished. Now he's into fishing and fishing videos.

peripherality
Not for the first time, I wonder if I were to get up, push my chair back in, and leave, would anyone present care.

perspective
It amuses me when a teenager tries to be shocking. Kid, you don't know how young you look to me.

sonorous
His voice is wrenching. At midnight, the lights flicker out, as if in response to the feelings he has evoked.

Week in Seven Words #503

From 9/8/19 - 9/14/19.

aggrieved
The middle child feels aggrieved, blamed by an older sibling who sides with a younger one.

butterscotch
The birthday cake is slathered in butterscotch icing. Over the weekend, it disappears in chunky slices that melt away on people's tongues and between their teeth, and in fist-sized balls that a child digs out of its side, and in slivers of icing picked away by restless fingernails.

cyclical
They cycle quickly from "I hate you" to hanging out together laughing to being deeply annoyed with each other again (which they call hate), a mood that soon shifts back to affection.

dinner
My clothes are damp and cold from a heavy rain, but the walk to the restaurant is worth it. A good burger, an easy flow of conversation, just a lovely evening overall.

occupations
The first night, she pretends to be a doctor, and she even knows the word "MRI," though she pronounces it "enMarigh." The second night, she's an ice cream truck driver handing out blueberry and mint scoops on cones.

outplay
Creativity, laughter, and hyper-competitiveness during board games. Once again, I get my ass whooped in Settlers of Catan by a ruthless kid.

roomy
The large dollhouse is reserved for a couple of small dog figurines and a little plastic baby in a drawer.