Week in Seven Words #574

This covers the week of 1/17/21 - 1/23/21.

barely

Running water in a denuded wood. The bareness makes us wish for a fir or a pine. There's only some greenness – crisp holly leaves by a splintering log.

checkup

His office is comforting and old-fashioned. The sofas are upholstered in blue and yellow, and in a glass case he's arranged a variety of charmingly odd statues. Dust is the dominant smell, with a hint of aftershave. The appointment takes a while, longer than expected, but I'm glad he isn't rushing through it. The results feel more exact.

disturbing

She assumes I slept better because I stayed up reading a book. But the truth is I don't know why I sleep better on some nights and worse on others.

fragrant

The wood chips from different evergreens give off a sweet aroma like mango.

needing

I needed to hear that I have what I need. (Besides trust. I need more trust.)

subject

I don't know what a given conversation will be like. Sometimes, it's about the pandemic and what's happening to the economy. Other times, it's about eggless cake batter and nothing else.

tamed

The heating unit that has been squealing is now purring.

Week in Seven Words #556

This covers the week of 9/13/20 - 9/19/20.

analyses

We get into a deep conversation about writing, and I savor it, because we rarely speak to each other. Not because of animosity, but because we're uncommitted to regular phone calls. Maybe we should call each other more.

blew

If someone had told him a year ago that he'd be trying to learn how to blow a shofar in the midst of a pandemic, he would have been skeptical, to say the least. As for the sounds he can produce – so far we've got crackling air and elephant squeaks. 

donuts

The new donut store has opened. Its electronic banner, streaming donuts 24/7, has become the liveliest feature in a withered neighborhood.

gladsome

The park is brimming with people. With picnics, parties, sports. One quiet spot is tucked near the entrance to a garden. It has a semi-circular seat shaded by lush trees.

honeyed

Sunlight sticks to the pine trees like honey.

pounding

Along every street there's construction noise, and the groaning of trucks and buses. At one corner, a man is raving, trying maybe to hear himself.

restraint

I'm aggrieved, and I need to deal with that emotion before I become deliciously aggrieved.

Week in Seven Words #532

This covers the week of 3/29/20 - 4/4/20.

attending

The convenience store is a cube of white light on a dark street. A masked cashier listens to 80s rock while staring out the window.

clanging

In every building on the block, people are at their windows cheering on healthcare workers. They shout, clap, whoop, bang on pots, and blow on trumpets and recorders. Overall, it's a cheerful sound, but I can't help thinking of jail inmates banging their metal cups against the bars.

distant

This feels like a lost springtime. There are blossoming trees and other kinds of loveliness, but it all seems out of reach, as if it's in a parallel world.

emergencies

Streets emptier and sirens more prevalent.

prettiness

A magnolia blossom cradled in the split trunk of a tree.

restlessness

I don't know where I want to walk. I just walk.

undermines

He wears gloves every time he needs to open a door. With a gloved hand he also pulls down his mask and scratches his face. 

Week in Seven Words #496

environmental
By the salty, polluted river, the grass is long and glossy. Purple flowers and soda cans nestle in it.

forum
Worries are better dealt with outdoors. Not in the confines of a familiar room but in a wider space with water, trees, and people.

fuzzily
A caterpillar, small as a piece of macaroni, squiggles on my neck.

multitasking
A woman is simultaneously playing the violin and hula hooping. Packing her talents together in the hopes of collecting more money in her violin case.

noise
She keeps lowering her book with a sigh. The whoosh of the passing cars distracts her. I've written it off as background noise, like the wind. After she calls attention to it, I pause to listen, and I realize how much noise I accept as a given, just a part of life.

seaworthy
Toy sailboats find their balance on a sheet of dark water.

thickly
Rain comes down in thick continuous clots and spatters like white paint on the street.

Week in Seven Words #495

cacophonous
We sit across from each other in a tiny office. Construction noise shatters our conversation.

fountain
The water in the fountain is dark and murky. Lily pads float in the basin. Partly a fountain, partly a pond, presided over by the statue of an angel.

models
The planes, which have been used for war, now look like painted toys displayed in unrelenting sunlight.

petrological
Anxiety: small, sharp stones on a stream bed churning in a powerful current. Regret: boulders thundering down a hillside.

plaza
Metal chairs beneath branches delicate as bones. Many people are reading, scrolling through websites, or sharing silence with friends. One man is alone and insane. He's ranting about $10 and listening to Elton John and Phil Collins on a small radio.

sweatiness
We push our way through the stuffy, narrow corridors of a ship. What must it have felt and smelled like, powering through the Tropics in days of no deodorant or A/C?

wistfully
The dog leaps at me and puts her paws up on my legs for a neck massage and chest rub. One guy looking on says that he could use a massage to his neck too.

Week in Seven Words #490

blaring
The cafe is cozy, dimly lit, with a decor of dark wood and cream. What kills the atmosphere is a large, loud TV mounted on the wall, the people on it yammering away.

blunting
The splinter doesn't hurt so much, because it has lodged in a callus.

directs
The wind stirs the pages of her speech, as if reminding her to look away from the words and at the audience.

encouraging
Hearing good feedback on a draft of my novel sweetens a week of painful, worrisome symptoms.

hydration
A teenager takes a swig from a large bottle. "Water is the best f*cking drink," she says. "It's my best friend."

panels
One man gives a lecture on confronting viewpoints radically different than your own. Another holds a discussion group that reminds me of sitting around in a dorm room at 1 a.m. pondering the meaning of life.

topics
We haven't seen each other in a while, so over pizza we have a short, intense conversation that we try to pack with all kinds of important things – family, politics, cultural differences, the tendency of pigeons to crap on roofs and balconies.

Week in Seven Words #488

audible
The dad's "SHHHH" is at first louder than the rising pitch of the child's tantrum.

breadth
The view opens up to brown hills and sunlight in visible tracks angling down from the clouds to the water.

browbeating
The young woman sitting behind us on the bus is being taken on a guilt trip by her mother. She fretfully pleads her case – that she isn't staying away from home too much, or using work and friends as excuses for avoiding home. She lists dates and times when she was in fact at home, but her case is crumbling, the judge unforgiving.

delighted
She has become ridiculous to her friends, largely because her voice turned into a blaring horn as her hearing deteriorated. But there's nothing ridiculous about the joy that transforms her face when her grandson visits unexpectedly.

disparaging
She glances at her daughter, who's asleep open-mouthed on the sofa, then looks away with pinched lips. "Look what's become of her," she murmurs, her disappointment genuine.

palate
The dog is sleek and golden, friendly and energetic. He also loves eating feces, any feces he can find. His own, the cat's, another dog's. He isn't picky.

smashed
The wine bottle rolls out of the fridge and shatters, and for an hour after we're still finding bits of it. Splinters of glass wink at us from unexpected places, such as a couch cushion. What brought the glass to the couch? The soles of someone's thick socks.

Week in Seven Words #388

barnyard
Baby goats press against the legs of the man who feeds them; they peer out from the folds of his trousers. Chickens walk around in their strange, obsessive way, making discontented noises.

drafts
The artists have set up studios in derelict homes. Most of the rooms are empty; some are papered in sketches. Here and there, a dash of paint disturbs a long stretch of dust.

meditation
With their bodies, they seem to form letters of the alphabet. Their spines curve, and their arms rise and bend. Their instructor walks among them and gently edits the poses.

petrichor
A walk between downpours. Everything is soaked in the smell of after-rain.

snarling
The music growls and punches holes in the quiet.

spasms
The worm, freshly plucked, flops around in the bird's beak.

unsophisticated
The fountain looks like it's juggling balls of foam. People sigh as they watch it; some record it on their phones. I like seeing this lack of jadedness. People taking pleasure in a simple, beautiful sight.

Week in Seven Words #378

confect
He brings out a glass bowl with six strawberries bathed in whipped cream.

denial
The kid is determined to pretend that she's happy. She speaks in greeting card platitudes and draws smiley faces on her work. It's her way of getting through a childhood that's starved of love.

gliding
The day is flush with sunlight, and the air smells clean. I walk for an hour and feel calm.

narrowly
He spins the fidget toy on the surface of the desk (spin spin spin), his attention focused entirely on it and not on his book.

pressed
The silver din of utensils and the voices sparkling and roaring pin me to the doorway for a moment, before I step into the restaurant bar during happy hour.

tenant
The cat doesn't belong to anyone in the building. He moved in, and some of the residents took responsibility for veterinary fees. Now he wanders the corridors and curls up for hours in the courtyard among potted plants and folding chairs.

tongue-tied
Her gratitude catches me by surprise, and I don't know if it's deserved. I smile awkwardly, and the thoughts seem to empty from my head to make room for confusion.

Week in Seven Words #366

association
A fun evening of Code Names, drinks, and food.

offbeat
They're helping her learn the distinction between cool weird and uncool weird. Cool weird is when you make silly faces with your friends for Instagram, maybe use a filter or app that gives you puppy ears and big glasses. Uncool weird isn't a sanctioned strangeness. Even if it's creative and doesn't harm anyone, it's suspect.

origami
She folds Trident gum wrappers into birds.

pickle
The alarm over the door begins to shriek. A worker approaches it with a grimace, then walks away. A minute later, another worker comes along, grimaces and walks away. Another minute goes by, with another grimace.

problematic
The word 'problematic' has started to bug me. People often use it in a way that's lazy and full of insinuation. "That book is problematic." Meaning? A vague unease, a condemnation without a coherent argument.

thump
Hearing about war gives him a thrill. It's the swagger of war he likes, the way deep-voiced media figures growl a threat of reprisal.

unproductive
An empty plaza framed by ads, shrubs, and an office building that looks like a fort.

Week in Seven Words #362

clamor
The clock, striking a late hour, gets shouted down by police sirens.

engage
They bring her out on a blue leash. Immediately, she's on my lap, squirming, sniffing, and sticking her head in my tote bag, where I've tucked away some treats for her.

insistently
A toddler stands before a taller doll and interrogates it. The doll, unresponsive, receives a finger to the eye for remaining aloof.

pat
The church has strung together signs on its lawn with slogans that try to demonstrate that it's welcoming (or the preferred word, "inclusive") to anyone who wants to attend. The slogans ring empty, a cut-and-paste job.

pools
Candle wax in multiple colors melts in psychedelic streams and puddles.

slack
The man on the sofa dozes beneath a portrait of an alert military leader.

snugness
In the glow of the lamp, a pink bedspread scented with lavender and mint.

Week in Seven Words #343

bower
Fat green leaves ripple against the railings of the balcony.

clack
Cicadas sound like crackling wind-up toys.

edged
The broad reservoir is rimmed with trees and buildings. To the north, stumpy apartment houses mostly, and to the south, silvery high-rises.

indulge
She reads a lot, and mostly on her own, but she sometimes wants to be read to. She can close her eyes whenever she wants, or jump in to share her ideas with someone who won't have a problem pausing to listen.

knucklebones
The rubber ball from a game of jacks shoots away and pings the table legs.

mise en scène
They could stage one of Shakespeare's plays here, in the garden where the paths whirl up a hill among flowers and low-hanging trees, and the rats scurry around at dusk.

reassure
They don't make hide-and-seek too scary for him. His mom hides, but he can still see her elbows and purse poking out from behind the tree, so he's laughing and stumbling to her immediately, without a fear that she left for good.

Sound familiar?

Week in Seven Words #301

inventiveness
Trying to figure out how to play with her collection of Shopkins, we come up with a game. I'll pretend I can take only one Shopkins figurine with me on a vacation. One by one, she'll pretend to be the figurines pleading their case. She'll have each one present reasons for why it's the best choice and will address my questions and concerns. ("As ice cream, I'll keep you cool and give you something to eat if all the restaurants serve gross food.") She comes up with creative, funny ideas and also makes some of the figurines self-sabotaging.

luring
Late afternoon shadows make the woods even more inviting. I'm tempted to stay until night, when I'd have a much harder time finding my way out.

restocking
More lungfuls of clean air to take with me to the city.

searching
The tree seeks itself in the leaf-choked stream.

stridulous
During the hike, I hear a faint roar. It's sports commentary, seeping from his headphones.

susceptibilities
Suddenly, we're at the lake. Silky water ringed with colorful trees. It's a view that breaches the hardened places in my mind.

unremarked
After the hours she spends finding and implementing a solution for their Internet outage, they largely ignore her.

Week in Seven Words #296

citrine
The neon fizzle of lemonade and the odor of fried food at the street fair.

cushioned
On the subway, he sits with his head nestled between huge headphones. As the train screeches around a bend, he bobs his head and smiles.

distribution
"In the divorce," she says, "I got the friends. The good friends."

forth
Among the books displayed shoulder-to-shoulder or on their backs along the table, I find a collection of Yiddish stories. It smells like it's been waiting in the back of a bookcase for its day in the sun.

individuate
The child pushes away her mom's hand. She wants to try walking on her own, away from the hand that clutches at her shoulder and arm.

lightheartedness
I love watching adults do cartwheels or dance spontaneously.

rabid
A hard blue river foaming at the mouth.

Week in Seven Words #236

dupe
Her way of preserving peace between us is to think that I'm incapable of coming up with my own ideas. My head is a bucket, basically, and other people come along and drop ideas into it. This means that when I disagree with her, it's not really out of my own willfulness; I just didn't protect the inside of my bucket-head well enough. (The alternative is to think of me as a calculating opponent, purposefully against her.)

fibrosis
There are relationships held together by scar tissue and not much else.

indignant
A car protesting at getting towed - its alarm going off in the early morning.

lures
She tosses food to the birds, but not to feed them - only to get them closer to her when she begins her chase.

scattering
Her brain trips her up. She makes rapid deductions, but can't focus well. She chases down each stray piece of information no matter how irrelevant it is.

scholastic
It's a theater of the academic: pants rolled at the ankles, square-framed glasses, bike and backpack, a spotty beard.

staged
The barrel outside the store has filled with rain, and now the lamplight dances in it.

Week in Seven Words #208 & 209

208

contrary
I tell her that she can sit on the rug, if she likes. She smiles and sits just off the rug, by an inch.

defenses
Kids scale the dirty hills of snow on the curbside. They turn them into ice forts, seared black by the breath of dragons.

promenading
Broken ice parades on the river. One piece looks like a miniature mountain, another like a shallow bowl of soup. A third is bearing birds towards the ocean.

scavenge
Shoppers tear apart a store gone bankrupt.

sophisticate
He's too young to understand the jokes, but old enough to want to laugh along.

sourcing
A small diner. Photos of organically grown vegetables over a grotty ketchup dispenser.

spitting
The beat taps and hisses beneath the melodic line.

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.

Week in Seven Words #139

distinct
They're identical twins in platform shoes and airy skirts, wearing jewelry with mystical designs. If I had to guess their age I'd say they're in their 50s, but they carry themselves like much younger women, brushing back the hair from their face and perching bird-like on their seats during the Kol Nidre service on the eve of Yom Kippur. I don't even know them but I have a feeling they're pretty awesome.

distracting
On Saturday afternoon a little girl, maybe three or four, shows up to synagogue wearing shoes with built-in squeakers. Every time she takes a step they let out a loud high chirpy noise. Two questions cross my mind as I try to concentrate on praying: 1) Why would you have your child wear shoes like that to synagogue? 2) Why would you buy shoes like that to begin with? Children are already experts at making noise; they don't need your help.

matrimony
The first married couple: man and woman stand apart and discuss the pains in their legs and whether there will be rain later in the evening. The second married couple: man and woman sit on a bench, hold hands and say nothing.

mums
The orange-yellow mums in the flower pot by the window look like a multi-faceted sea creature, small insects swimming in and out of it.

receptive
Towards the end of the fast on Yom Kippur I'm mellow. During the short afternoon break between synagogue services I sit in a nearby park, where my mind throws open its doors and says, "Welcome world," to the trees, the passing cars and pedestrians.

summation
He speaks eloquently, but his story would have been more powerful had he not ended it with a request for money.

teshuva (תשובה‎)
The Hebrew word for 'repentance' is teshuva, which means 'return.' You've gone off course and now it's time to come back. Teshuva is important all year round but is especially emphasized in the 10 days spanning from Rosh Hashanah to Yom Kippur. On Sunday we go out to lunch, mindful of what happened last month. But unlike last month there are no fights this time, no recriminations that ruin our plans.

Week in Seven Words #121

constructive
They're given random scraps and told to build whatever they can imagine. Cars with plastic bottle cap wheels, a walkie-talkie with a straw antenna, a castle made out of cups and toilet paper rolls.

decibel
The music at the frozen yogurt shop is so loud, the place so packed and noisy, that you can't think or talk to the person next to you. You just stare into your cup and eat and eat before it all melts.

fathom
We've gone so deep into the park we can pretend we're no longer in the city. At the pond we find a bench. Though it looks a little wilted in the heat, the pond is a nice spot I think. He sees it as stagnant. I can understand why, but I can't agree. There's always something alive in there. A mix of fish, turtles, plants and microbes. It's a quiet place, and promises whatever you can find in it; the closer you look the more there is. After our conversation, which has kept returning to life's disappointments, to uninformed choices that can't be undone, I want to be in a place like this, out-of-the-way and quietly overflowing with life.

jib
The tiny sailboats have ventured onto the water again.

raw
The cookie dough has already been prepared; now it's only a matter of cutting it and flattening it into cookie-shaped pieces before it goes into the miniature oven. Of the four residents at the table, one can wield a knife quite well. Another tries but can barely manage. A third pops a piece of raw dough in his mouth then resumes staring silently at the rest of it. The fourth curses when you get too near her. "I wouldn't feed that to my cat," she mutters.

trail
Forget the subway and bus; I'll find a new way home. And I do, on land rising steeply over a lake, where the inlets are coated in a vivid green scum, and the path curves beneath low-hanging branches.

wretchedness
The howl of a dog that doesn't know what she did wrong.