Week in Seven Words #228 & 229

228

gazers
Three teenagers are sitting on a bench, arms around each other, looking for the moon in a daytime sky.

heightened
The silence on the path isn't true silence. The trees are bristling, and animals are scraping unseen against dirt. My feet are crunching on loose rock. The silence is the absence of human voice.

platitudinous
People who tell me to "be myself" often mean "be a self that I approve of and am comfortable with."

punctuating
When I read beneath the green branches, bugs fall onto my book like extra punctuation.

subterrestrial
In part because it's dwarfed by a flag pole, one gets the sense that the old stone building, crouched on the ground, has a small room in it with a door, and that this door opens to a flight of stairs that takes you miles below the city.

sweeping
Wedding photos in the park - the bride's train sweeping over fallen green leaves.

witchery
The shop, dark as a cavern, smells of soap and herbs.

Week in Seven Words #167

derelict
She drinks from a dirty glass and eats tongue between slices of old brown bread.

disagreeable
Music from the IRS hotline tinkles in my ear, as I try to write while on hold.

gambits
The blankets are rumpled and strewn with pie dishes and tin trays. People stand around talking and sizing each other up. Every conversation I'm a part of seems to involve a game that I don't want to play.

needs
The sky growls thunder and hisses a promise of rain. Still, we must stop for frozen yogurt.

two-sided
Depending on who you ask in the room, the dog is an adorable treasure or, at best, a nuisance.

whoop
Discovering that I need to fill out a five-page tax form that comes with at least 50 pages of instructions.

whoopee
Along with the five-page form, there's another form. And another. There are always more forms.