Week in Seven Words #308

besieger
Before he finally gets locked out of his account, he tries one password after another, probing at his unresponsive memory. Each time, he's convinced that he's only off by one character.

binding
Through cracks in the window, the cold seeps in and curls around my hands and ankles.

braceleted
Around my wrists, they've placed interlocking plastic chains - some in pastels, others in night-glowing neon.

pellets
Cloudy bins of candies in toxic colors line the cold, bright aisles.

schnoz
His nose has puffed up like a sponge toy that expands in water.

shades
Dark-haired and silver-haired, they play a violin duet in the dim light.

unassured
"Don't worry, don't worry," he pleads. He doesn't know what else to do. He only wishes she'd relax, even as his frantic voice communicates the uselessness of such a wish.

Week in Seven Words #191

bioluminescence
In the dark, the bracelets look like glowworms wriggling over each other.

ewes
Their singing sounds like gentle pleading.

liqueur
Orange liqueur burns my throat and settles with bittersweet warmth in my head.

predicted
Beside a windy leaf-strewn path in the park, he talks about his break-up. We nod in sympathy. We don't let on that we could see it coming months ago.

raucous
Staid men, pillars of the community, holler like frat boys. It's supposed to be a display of joyful exuberance, but it frequently comes across as forced.

ribbony
Chairs in disarray, people nibbling on chicken as others pray. The afternoon festivities wind on in unfocused joy.

tempo
A man in medieval garb hums under his breath as he cuts past the bicyclists in the park.