Week in Seven Words #570

This covers the week of 12/20/20 - 12/26/20.

cinnamon

Errands sweetened by puffs of cinnamon-laden wind from the vendors' carts.

frustration

"What's the point?" she asks. "What's the point of learning any of this?" And there isn't an easy answer. Telling her that learning can be good for its own sake would be a glib response.

manifests

With creeping wonder and dread, he realizes that his isolation has made him more like his father.

osculation

Kissing by an arched stone bridge, ducks in a gaggle and the water crisp with ice.

skating

It's easier to talk about books, history, and other topics that aren't deeply personal. I don't often unearth the personal in conversation.

snowman

A towering snowman awaits us on the knoll. The next day, he's still there, looking less robust but still stubbornly upright.

wisecrack

When asked to rate his pain on a scale of 1 to 10, he hesitates before saying, "Pi" (a joke from a TV show he's been watching).

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 #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 #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 #486

concierge
The concierge could have undergone Marine Corp boot camp training and would still not have been prepared for this particular guest and her battery of demands.

flooding
Rain gushing like the sky is full of faulty plumbing.

overlaid
The cloying scent of flowers and dog feces in a narrow park.

possibility
Dressed in gym shorts and gray tees, they've plonked themselves down on a couple of pink armchairs and are now discussing whether Noah's ark could have been built.

role-playing
They get sucked into a game set in another world, where there are portals opening to demonic realms and taverns where you can quaff an ale by a roaring fire.

sufficiently
We're eating at the bar, conversation minimal, eyes mostly on the food. We're seated shoulder-to-shoulder in quiet companionship.

trailing
They know which part of the store their child has run off to, because he's left a trail of crumbled crackers for them to follow.

Week in Seven Words #473

catastrophizing
My mind is gripped by the potential mistakes, the possible costs, the hypothetical scenarios where things go terribly wrong.

chary
It's a social event where no one is at ease. People are sizing each other up, suspicious and assessing.

enclose
A homeless man has set up a small room made of blanket walls by the doors of a supermarket.

examining
Giving more thought to a chapter that portrays a slide towards despair, a character contemplating an end to her life. I check that I'm writing it with sufficient care.

hand-to-hand
Looking both embarrassed and proud, he talks about how he allowed himself to get really mad and fight a few other men at a subway station, just because he needed to relieve stress. I had never pictured him as the type to let off steam through physical combat with potentially lethal repercussions, a situation where someone could end up knifed or knocked onto the third rail.

lackadaisical
We aren't having a conversation, just taking turns talking. The topics drift and leave little impression.

untainted
A clear, crystalline day when the air seems to come from a fresh spring untainted by car exhaust and sidewalk garbage.

Week in Seven Words #428

aside
He's attached by a balloon string to his job. At work, he's mostly off on his own, bobbing in one place with his phone, his eyes on the screen where his real life is unfolding.

dismissed
His glazed-over eyes and faint "mm-hms." Another short, unsatisfying conversation.

monotone
Her voice doesn't have any inflection when she describes her day. Mostly, she talks about other people. Who said this and that and the other thing.

settled
The cold stone basement dust smell of an old dim house.

sonny
They tell me I'm old for sending emails. It's almost entirely texts for them now, and half the texts lack text, they're a barrage of emojis. (And I feel old complaining about this, as if I'm shaking my fist from my imaginary front porch, where I sit with curmudgeonly dignity on a rocking chair and communicate with the wider world via telegraph.)

taffy
Two young boys get a pink kite going in the breeze. It looks like a floating piece of candy.

tastes
I'm not sure why I like gefilte fish. It's basically a brick of fish matter.

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 #369

arachnids
As I pick through a Bach prelude, my hands feel like spiders crawling over cracked pavement.

baked
I pry the lid off the banana walnut scented candle and breathe.

fearful
One night is a rough night, anxiety a rising flood in my skull.

filing
We are docile and subdued on the line through the metal detectors. A guard is curt to an old woman who isn't sure if she's at the correct location.

hissing
His thoughts are oil in a frying pan and a crackle of buzzwords.

judicial
The room where potential jurors wait is full of sunlight, warmth, and murals displayed well above eye level, to no one's loss. The clerk splits our heads open with a whining microphone. From time to time, we listen to lists of names, and people shuffle out. Shoes squeak, and newspapers rustle. One man falls asleep. His snores sound like a bumblebee trapped in a bottle.

staleness
In an unlit hallway, they've set up tables with cookies, chips, and sandwiches of uncertain freshness.

Week in Seven Words #346

inhaling
At different points in the hike, we smell heavy flowering shrubs, a days-old tuna fish and banana odor from the waste treatment facilities, throat-scorching exhaust fumes, the cleanness of salt water and suntan lotion.

pastels
The homes are in cream, peach, and plum colors. They overlook a river that has a silver sheen in the mid-day sun. Hibiscus shrubs line the paths, and swan-shaped flower pots nestle in the shade.

rib-tickling
We try ballroom dancing one evening, and we laugh much more than we dance.

self-contained
She's a silent, steady hiker. She wears headphones and walks at an unvarying pace.

settings
There's a story wherever we look - off the shores of the island, there was a boat accident that killed hundreds, and in the shade of a massive bridge, a grove of trees has been planted as a gift from a foreign prince.

spray-painted
Most of the graffiti images are cartoon characters and portraits of local residents. They stare at bricked-up warehouse windows and smile across unused train tracks.

wetlands
For neighborhoods along the shore, the marshes offer different kinds of protection. They help filter pollutants. They reduce erosion and flooding. They're a bit of nature stitched to the fringes of a city.

Week in Seven Words #345

feline
The cat hops on the chair and places a paw on the table. The human glares at her. The cat gazes into the human's eyes. She places another paw on the table.

gelato
On a warm night, the ice cream store is a cold, clean square of light.

lop
When he plays Clue, he starts to shorten most of the names, maybe because he's trying to sound like a hard-boiled detective. Miss Scarlet becomes 'Scar.' The conservatory is "the serv."

narratives
He comes across short stories of people from a country he doesn't care about. After that, he wants to know more about their struggles and their way of life. He'll ignore a news report, but the short stories humanize them to him.

performing
At the table, the kids interview each other as they pretend to film a talk show. Meanwhile, one of the adults crafts an ostentatious display of temper for the waiter.

pizzazz
Many situations can be improved on with a bit of jazz hands and a song.

reek
The car smells like sweat and onions. Even with the windows rolled down, the smell persists, mixing with the cool wind and swirling through our heads.

Week in Seven Words #315

biding
Open doorways breathe out sour smells, moist wood smells. People wait for death with the TV on as round-the-clock company.

denseness
When she sits, her cloud of perfume settles like a soft cloak, cushioning the bench and protecting her from other people's touch.

expires
The elevators groan open and admit you at your peril.

fragmentation
With a sense of satisfaction, she tells me that the world is going to pieces. It could be that it's her own world she's talking about, the one of slowness and illness. If her body is crumbling, so must everything else. She's not alone in her disintegration.

minimal
She speaks with command, her message urgent and worth hearing. Most of us won't act on it. We'll think we've done our part by showing up and appearing attentive.

ocher
One of those hopeful days, when the storms have ended, and it's possible to think there'll be no time wasted. The future is all mellow morning sunlight.

sepulchral
A dim marble lobby where a doorman paces, muttering about his dead phone.

Week in Seven Words #273

auroral
Gray and pink light in the early morning. The trees stirring, birds in song.

brown
Shades of cedar in the desert, umber and hickory. Cliffs the color of roasted sesame seeds.

festive
The dark pink flowers form an arc from the wall to the cars parked on the curb.

fruitless
He tries to tell a story, but his sentences wind up chasing words he can't remember.

hypersaline
People turning pink in the sun, their bodies stung with salt water. A burning cut on my leg. Cacti springing out of the salty dirt like coils of hair.

keenly
The song reminds her of her parents. She gives me the words to tuck into the back of my book and take with me home.

olid
A woman rolls down her stockings and washes her feet in a reeking rest stop.

Week in Seven Words #256

I'm sorry for the nearly month-long absence on this blog. The reason was a combination of lots of work and a needed blog break.

anticipant
She peers into the audience, her face nervous and expectant, knowing her family will be there but needing to see them.

crestfallen
"I stink at this," is what one child says every time she doesn't get something right the first time. Who is she echoing?

easy-going
She sits on the floor in her power suit, at ease when kids tumble around her legs.

huddled
They're the same type of people - same background, same lifestyle - so it doesn't matter what they say to each other; they're happy with the knowledge that they're the same and that their conversation will be safe.

pathetically
Out of pity I buy a small stuffed animal with lumpy ears. A dog, I think. An aspiring dog.

restorative
The clean scent of linens in a drawer.

true
While the others are match sparks and unsteady flames, she's a lamp, steady and gentle in the dark.

Week in Seven Words #237

congested
Most of the air in the room has been absorbed into the furniture - chairs stiff with disuse, a piano that would croak at the touch of curious fingers.

essence
"We should all be well," she says, peering at us with eyes that see nothing but cloudy shapes and light.

fried
Old homes by the ocean criss-crossed by power lines, their bricks glowing and their gables peeling away.

prospects
In the fountain - coins, litter, and a water-logged postcard; maybe someone making a wish about the next place they'd like to visit.

smolder
The smell of cigarette smoke off a leather jacket can be attractive in passing.

splotches
A courtyard: sticky fruit on stone hexagons.

unfurled
Ferns in a blue vase on a balcony, with the river below.

Week in Seven Words #218 & 219

218

exudation
The park smells of dogs, horses and dirt. Flowers too, but faintly.

handouts
When she discovers a crack in a tree, she stuffs it with peanuts. Let no (peanut-eating) animal have to look too hard for its food.

mush
He's hunched over on the bench with his pudding and apple sauce while she pokes fun at him. She's not that much younger than he is, and I wonder how much of her mean-spirited teasing stems from fear - that sooner than she knows it, soft food will be dribbling out of her mouth in public places.

roosting
The outdoor bookseller waves away the pigeons that clamber on his paperbacks.

sighted
Trees with whorls on their trunks like languid eyes.

uncomfortable
When the wind skims the Reservoir, the water seems to flinch at the cold touch.

voiced
The birds melt into the evergreens. They would like to be heard but not seen.

Week in Seven Words #155 and #156

Week in Seven Words #155

cat's cradle
The dog criss-crosses her leash around and through my legs.

contrasts
The weather, in a way, is perfect: a cloudy cold day, not too cold, the air fresh and scented with herbs and flowers. Because the garden is only half-alive, a sunny day might have made it seem burned out and dead. But the winter mist brings out every hint of color in the broken twigs and grey-green leaves.

disparity
Neighborhoods laid down side by side: slums and fast food joints giving way to gabled homes with chocolate trim.

espied
The bench, sheltered in the gazebo, overlooks the garden, the pale river, and the clouds.

expectations
Maps fire the imagination. This one has names like 'conifer slope' and 'aquatic garden' that sound intriguing but turn out to be a sodden hill and a fountain that isn't active in the winter.

likenesses
Cacti of all kinds: some look like rosettes on a cake, others like cold sorbet fuzzy with ice, others like balls of electricity.

surfacing
I like when the subway climbs out into the light and rattles alongside rooftops and billboards.

Week in Seven Words #156
blasted
A cold wind that seems to scrape out the inside of your skull.

dredge
Gristly duck and faded decor in a restaurant that was once great.

propionibacteria
In a span of five blocks we see something like 10-15 people in Elmo costumes. One of them has terrible body odor, so no one stands next to him.

pulverulent
A dusting of snow on the curbs and benches.

remuneration
Making money off my writing gives me a really good feeling.

spooked
When the ghosts start swarming out of sewer vents and subway stations, the dog yaps at the TV.

therapeutic
Through her dolls she tries to cope with her anxiety about broken bones and reassure herself of a speedy recovery.

Week in Seven Words #104

bingo
During a bingo game at an assisted living center for seniors I'm reminded of junior high. Several participants are warm and easy going, but some huddle together and make pointed comments about people at other tables. They play where they've just eaten lunch, in what looks like a school cafeteria. And they compete for prizes of chocolate and deodorant.

desiderate
At the bus stop there's snow and biting wind, a long view of the street and no bus in sight.

extras
An Angus Deluxe at McDonald's with its side of fries and accompanying soft drink is a luxury meal to her.

glitter
We take turns coloring the snake in, stripe by stripe, before she douses it in liquid glitter to give it a golden sheen.

mephitic
A heavy smell of rot in the subway station - dank coats, garbage on the lines, deposits of black grit on the pipes overhead.

recognition
I'm glad I'm reading this, to laugh, think and be encouraged.

self-conscious
At the group interview the candidates glance around awkwardly, both commiserating and competing with each other.

Week in Seven Words #70

abounding
The wind skims water off the fountain. The droplets prickle on our skin. I'm happy to be with family on this fine sunny day.

cherished
He tries to detach my arm from my body; as I play along, falling over in the booth, he laughs. Later on as he sits on his father's shoulders, he leans over for a kiss on the cheek and tells me he loves me.

exploration
We make a water wheel turn, manipulate mirrors, watch a black hole emerge from a supernova. Dinosaurs lean towards us for a closer look as we peer at them through 3D specs. We clamber inside a giant heart, climb to the top of a lighthouse, and escape from a bottomless gift shop.

lamina
In the early morning the trees on my block toss their leaf-shadow onto the brick walls.

mélange
At the miniature golf course in Franklin Square the kids are innovating with the sport. They swing their putters at the ball (golf), kick the ball around (soccer), and dunk the ball into the hole (basketball). When basketsoccergolf fails to divert, there's enough water around to plonk the balls into (scuba diving). The golf course also gives them a mini-tour of Philadelphia; major landmarks appear in small scale. At one hole you have to hit the ball through the crack in the Liberty Bell. At another you have to whack it up a steep hill and into one of three possible tunnels in the Art Museum. The kids like dropping the balls into tunnels and seeing where they'll next emerge.

sunscreen
The soothing redolence of sunscreen - I think of sunshine, water, long walks, powder blue skies.

unbuttoned
He knows I don't like to talk about my problems. That's why, after my initial denials, he keeps asking questions - not intrusively, but just enough to let me understand that he cares and wants to know enough to offer advice. I start to sketch things out for him - a little bit in the cab ride, a lot more on the walk home along the streets baking and the bridge flashing in the sun. Nothing's solved yet, but I do feel a little better by the end of our conversation.