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withdrawn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 #489

capoeira
On a traffic island, as we wait for the light to change, she demonstrates capoeira moves, fight-dancing at a post.

capotain
It occurs to me an hour into my trip that the black sun hat I'm wearing is terribly unflattering. But I'm already miles from home and need that sun protection. Guess I'll have to look like a time-traveling Puritan.

guise
On our way to dinner, she reports what someone else said about me. Whether she's relating the other person's comments accurately or editing them heavily, I don't know. The only result is that I feel uneasy. Not motivated to change, just motivated to spend less time with her and with the third party she's eager to quote.

journeying
The unannounced interruption to subway service makes our trip over an hour longer. We need to get off the train at one stop, take a bus to another stop, get on another train, and finally switch to another bus. After that comes a short shuttle ride. But it makes our arrival even sweeter. We appreciate, even more, the wide-open view of the river, the soft lawns, the flowers pulsing with color among evergreens and rocks. The air is also so clean.

puffiness
The peonies are a creamy pink. They look like pastries.

siddur (סדור)
One woman talks about treasuring the repetition in prayer. Another speaks beautifully about the legacy of the Siddur. I like not just the learnedness of the discussion, but the frankness. People don't often talk about prayer in a way that's both scholarly and personal.

softness
The light falls in a pearly sheet on glass bowls with cacti, on poppies in a cream-colored vase, on a pink crocheted cap.

Week in Seven Words #466

contending
She's giving an outdoor talk, and her voice strives to rise above the wind.

context
I bump into someone I know quite well in a location where I don't expect to see him. For a couple of seconds I don't recognize who he is, because his face is usually framed by other surroundings – not a street with a church on one side and glossy, sparkling storefronts on the other.

interval
Late at night, the subway platform fills with people waiting for an infrequent train. They look up from their phones, crane forward to peer into the tunnel, sigh, look back at their phones.

melted
The Camperdown elm looks like it has melted. Its branches are rivulets of brown wax.

parting
We murmur how we'll see each other soon, but we probably won't. Our friendship has weakened in the last year or two, not for any one reason, or really any obvious reason.

rose-tinted
Someone plays "La Vie en Rose" on a saxophone under an archway. They're striving to create a certain atmosphere – romantic, nostalgic, Parisian – on a muddy day.

soothingly
Ginger and carrot soup to soothe what might be the beginnings of a cold.

Week in Seven Words #453

direction
We've been deposited on a platform between two trains. We know that one is set to go south, the other north. But which is which? The Charlie Brown's teacher voice on the announcement system doesn't help us figure it out.

discourse
They talk at length about the tax deductibility of parking spaces.

empathy
One kid is crying about the absence of chocolate among the dessert choices. I feel for him.

grayscale
It's a day of heavy rain. Indoors, the walls are leaden and smudged with shadow.

gumshoes
To keep the kids quiet, she assigns them clean-up duties. To make the clean-up duties fun, she has them pretend that the spills, discarded napkins, and strewn clothing are all clues in an intricate mystery. They're the detectives, using the evidence to come up with a story more interesting than "I spilled my juice and knocked my friend's coat off the back of her chair and left it on the ground until my mom told me to pick it up."

lounge
The ambiance of the room has changed. It used to feel like a lounge where people drink whiskey from cut glasses and smoke cigars. Now it's brighter and more colorful, with furniture that's easy to clean, like a lounge at a family-friendly hotel.

weeding
There are always fresh weeds among the plants you want to keep.

Week in Seven Words #442

adorning
The table is crowned with a vase of lilacs and gladioli.

blades
They're cheerful and polished, but their smiles seem carved out of their flesh. Their brightness has the potential to become hard and repellent.

downpour
Heavy rain, so thick it seems to come down in clots. Afterwards, the air is cool and fresh.

limping
It's an odd, disjointed dinner. The conversation drifts frequently to weather disasters. During the silences, people peer at each other uncertainly. One guest is silent and remote, with a pinched look, as if he had been running from exhaustion for a while before it finally overtook him.

sluggishly
The 2 train crawls like an old fat snake that has eaten too much.

throwback
The office suite reminds me of a student center on a college campus. There's a coffee bar, vending machines, puffy sofas sitting low on the ground, and several tables tucked into booths.

verbalizing
A man is jogging with his dog by the lake. "How are you doing, boy?" the man asks. The dog pants. "You doing good?" The dog continues to pant. "Good boy!"

Week in Seven Words #431

droning
She writes a song parody and sings it in a bored voice that's even funnier than the altered lyrics.

heaviness
The WWII memorial looks impressive in the sunlight, but I wonder what it's like at night, somber and shadowed in the deserted plaza.

long-winded
He's directed to a dull site on statistics for further explanations. I help him hack away at some of the paragraphs on box plots and IQR.

refueling
Beneath the tents in the parking lot, the volunteers bag yellow squashes and other vegetables of varying condition. Of the people lined up to receive an allotment of produce, many are elderly. One man pretends his collapsible shopping cart is a motorcycle.

self-satisfied
About a dozen people are gathered by the arch to sing a protest song with clever rhymes. They look satisfied with their gesture of defiance, but I wonder if they could have spent their afternoon (and the time set aside for rehearsals) more usefully by taking concrete actions to further their cause.

sweaty
On a rainy day, the subway station is a rank armpit. Puddles form around the metro card machines, which look like leaking nodules. Water sluices through cracks in the platform and meets a stagnant end in shallow depressions.

tendrils
The bridge is the focal point, but around it have sprung lawns and paths, piers where ice cream is served and people play sports or lean over the water.

Week in Seven Words #425

designed
A 20-minute walk or a 20-minute subway ride takes me to neighborhoods far apart in architectural style and atmosphere. In one neighborhood, some of the homes look like they could feature in a fairy tale. They have charming irregularities, an uncommon interplay of shapes, bricks arranged into patterns that may be communicating something.

lobbed
I never know where a laugh will come from. This time it's a pun delivered by someone calling from across the Atlantic.

monologuing
He's preaching about oppression and civil rights to a crowded train. He isn't asking for money; all he wants is an audience for his rage.

poultry
When they're loud, the chickens sometimes sound like sea gulls. Otherwise, their vocalizations are quiet and peeved. (If I were anthropomorphizing them, I'd say it's because the sickish scent of compost fills the hen house, and the discarded vegetables and fruit don't meet their standards, not like last week's compost, which was richer in variety and quality.) My favorites are the buttery-colored Buff Orpington variety. (Mostly because I like the name 'Buff Orpington' - sounds like a character from a P.G. Wodehouse story.)

reddening
One eye-catching detail are the red flowers and plants cradled in windowsills. They include poinsettias, carnations, and roses.

unprotected
A field of lavender licked by a cold wind.

variations
Morning rush hour. "Stand clear of the closing doors," says the subway conductor. Then he shouts it. At the next stop and the one after that, his voice is pleading. The stop after that, he sings the words in an anxious lullaby melody, as if he's a parent whose baby is wide awake at 2 am.

Week in Seven Words #421

cheerfully
Most of the rooms are in shadow on a rainy day, but the kitchen remains bright and welcoming.

formation
We try building a tall, convoluted slide for marbles, and we finish about a third of it before I leave. The instructions aren't straightforward, and similar pieces have been painted the same color. But I'm surprised to find myself enjoying the project.

intensely
When conducting Beethoven, he looks like he's listening to heavy metal. Head banging, gritted teeth.

nearly
A catastrophic argument is looming like an iceberg on the horizon of our evening. We avoid it by a hand span, and watch it from the corner of our eyes as it looms up beside us before falling away into the night.

purring
A man sits quietly by the bandshell caressing his guitar.

sequester
On the train during rush hour, people dive into pockets of solitude. They fix their eyes on the kneecaps of the person sitting opposite. They play repetitive games on their phone or hunch behind a newspaper. A young woman with a soft face and thin hair stares out the window and croons to the music from her headphones.

undermining
His bottle is tucked into a brown paper bag. As the bus rolls on past big-box stores and ranch-style homes, he sips from the bottle and talks about his court date tomorrow for a drinking-related offense.

Week in Seven Words #414

artifacts
The clouds look like archaeological findings: pottery shards and splintered spears.

carbs
Enticed by the display of fat, creamy desserts, most of them crowd into the bakery. There's no room inside for them to eat, so they savor their glistening cakes and donuts by the curb. At a convenience store on the same block, I buy an adequate granola bar.

insisting
There's so much in her life that's out of control and wildly unfair, so she finds little ways to try to reclaim power. These efforts can make her appear fussy or ungenerous.

opened
I take a photo of a couple of Minions characters posed on a front lawn, and I send it to him so that he can show it to his son. He replies to my text, and we begin a soul-baring conversation, the kind I wouldn't have expected to start with a Minions photo.

rickety
The atrium is our way station on a windy evening. We're surrounded by men mostly; they're reading newspapers or resting their eyes. When we set our salads on one of the metal tables, it shivers, as if unaccustomed to any weight.

sways
One homeowner has set up speakers on his lawn to play a jazzy version of Schubert's Ave Maria, something a fallen angel would listen to at a blues club over a Bloody Mary.

wended
The train has gone above ground. In the faint, peach-colored light of early evening, it skims past rows of old houses. A languid peace has settled over me in the nearly empty car. I could watch the rooftops slide by for an hour without feeling impatient.

Week in Seven Words #404

bodies
We walk along the reservoir in the dark. The water is glossy, and the backdrop is a hard, glittering skyline. One building has a red spire, like a syringe. From a dark pocket of trees, someone sings "Piano Man," his voice bright and disembodied.

childishly
The protesters outside the hotel take up a chant that has the pitch and rhythm of a child's taunt. It makes them sound immature and powerless, as if they need to wrap up their playtime soon and be home before dark.

error
A dad treats his young son like a computer program that needs constant debugging. Everything the boy does warrants a sharp remark, as it doesn't fall within the precise specifications of the programming.

frisson
We explore the edges of a milky gray pond. The leaves underfoot are clumpy and pulpy. Overhead, a black squirrel shudders along a tree branch and leaps, the branch shivering at its departure.

kinswomen
An aunt and her nieces and nephews sit on the steps of the museum and eat vanilla soft serve ice cream with sprinkles. A grandmother watches over a grandson and granddaughter as they pretend a giant, sloping rock is a hill of snow for sledding. A mother and her teenaged son relax on a bench and discuss face recognition software.

lagomorph
One train rushes by, then another. They sound like roaring water and hollow, rattling stones. The train we need still hasn't arrived. I spot something small and dark under the opposite platform: a rabbit the color of soot. It seems portentous, the Dark Bunny of Delays.

silica
The glass sculptures look like alien growths transplanted among the flowers and mushrooming out of the pools of water.

Week in Seven Words #396

businesslike
There are several groups meeting in the atrium. One is for learning Spanish, another for figuring out how to make your home more neat. Although the neater home group is the one I should be signing up for, I've joined a discussion on streamlining business processes. It takes a while to get started. The host shows up late; most of the people who RSVP'ed don't turn up at all. (The conversation is interesting anyway.)

entertaining
A mariachi band steps into the subway car with the suddenness of a channel change. Everything's bright and lively and loud for a couple of minutes. Later on in the ride, as the train stalls on a bridge, breakdancers appear, a hair's breadth away from head injury as they swing wildly from the poles and do backflips.

gratified
A young boy and his mom sit in the mouth of a blue tent that's backlit by the sun. They take turns blowing bubbles.

happenstance
The different parts of Prospect Park feel only loosely connected. We explore a forest where a stream slips through tumbled rocks. We come to a dog beach where people wade ankle deep and throw toys for their dogs to splash after. A picnic area floats past us at one point, in a mist of smoke. We follow the tail of a larger body of water; it's serpentine and keeps changing shape. Clearings open up, criss-crossed with shadow, and large meadows suddenly spring into view, bared to the sun. These places don't feel like parts of the same park, only that they settled next to each other by chance the day we visited, so we could walk from one to the other.

overspread
In these narrow streets, a theme emerges of brick submerged in leaves. Trees screen polished windows, and plants spill out of window boxes.

preaching
A passionate sermon in a woman's voice resounds through a barred door. It's a storefront church that contains a cauldron of apocalyptic feeling.

transportation
The lower level of the museum is home to vintage train cars, one of them displaying an ad for cocoa with eerie children. The upper level shows a history of city transportation and its challenges, from overcrowding to extensive flooding.

Week in Seven Words #385

cadence
The barefoot woman on the terrace is singing as she arranges her body into meditative poses. Her voice, clear and high, reminds me of the music of Hildegard von Bingen.

dissolve
The tiramisu melts at the touch of the fork.

efficiency
I feel like a package on a conveyor belt, directed first to the booth with the camera models, then to a counter for processing the order, followed by another counter for the payment, and then to the pick-up area, until I'm finally deposited through the automatic doors to the curb.

enjoyment
The first thing that delights him about the trip is the length between stops for the express train. For her, it's the garden where she hovers over flowers with her camera.

functions
Exploring an herb garden: the spidery magic of milk thistle, and sharp, refreshing scents of rosemary and sage. The gardener gives a talk on women's medicine in the Middle Ages, including plants, like birthwort, that led to serious health problems. At one point, she begins referring to menses by its old-fashioned euphemism, "the flowers." Someone becomes confused about which flowers she's discussing.

pictorial
The accuracy of the text is questionable, but the illustrations are compelling, inviting the reader to discover obscure connections between plants and people.

twist
Her horror story begins with a man sitting alone on a boulder in the woods. It ends with a giant, murderous avocado bursting through a kitchen door.

Week in Seven Words #381

boyishly
He rehearses his chorus song sweetly and a little goofily.

delighting
He's delighted by the rides he's taken on the subway. He likes observing people's behavior, how they make use of limited space and what they do to pass the time during their commute. As an older man, he hasn't become jaded. He loves to investigate and explore, and the mundane can be fascinating.

garbed
Leafy trees look like they're wearing green ruffled blouses.

memorization
She brings flash cards to the table. Her mouth is pressed to a thin line as she flips them over by her plate. Her food goes largely ignored.

relieving
People often unleash their anger on an easy target, but here she doesn't - she's nice to the waitress, who was nervous about getting blamed for the restaurant's mistake.

secured
It's been a while since I received a bear hug. It lasts long enough for the warmth to settle into my bones, but stops short of making me feel trapped.

sedated
The meal is heavy. The diners sag, and their eyelids flicker against the weight of sleep.

Week in Seven Words #364

chip
A sunlit, sterile store displays several rows of small devices.

flourishes
During the subway ride, she asks about each stop and what you could see in the local neighborhood. A proprietary feeling for the city comes over me. It doesn't matter if a subway station is grimy and rundown; I look on it with fondness, because it has become my grimy and rundown station.

miniature
The furniture from centuries ago looks doll-like, as if the people then were not only smaller but more delicate and fragile.

motorboat
A high-speed boat skips like a stone across the river.

neonatal
The baby wears a striped hat. She squirms from time to time in her sleep. Her sleep seems intent, energetic.

posing
They dab, dance, and toss their hair on the videos they make with a lip-syncing app.

postpartum
It's a quiet ward, which is surprising. The hospital room has a dim evening glow. For the moment, the baby is being weighed and measured in the nursery. A nurse, who strikes me as sincerely caring, quietly speaks to the mother, both about what to expect in the coming hours and about a maternal health issue that needs to be monitored.

Week in Seven Words #330

clarification
What at first sounds like the wind crying resolves into choir music broadcast on a radio in a waiting room down the hall.

hamming
She makes short videos of evil twins leaping out of mirrors and people finding an intruder in the closet as they tour their new home. I'm cast in several roles. My favorite is the one where I get stabbed with a plastic pineapple and deliver a monologue for the ages.

meaty
All of the commuters packed, flesh to flesh, turn the subway car into a sausage link.

median
He continues to be fanatic about how normal he is. His way is the one true way of normality.

reactiveness
Waiting for the elevator, stone-faced as a Buckingham Palace guard, while a neighbor and her child scream at each other a few feet away.

spud
Pleasure from a potato's crinkly gold skin.

sway
In her marriage, she's a courtier. Dressed in elegant fabrics that pool on the floor as she bows and scrapes.

Week in Seven Words #312

brusque
Blunt, cranky, and doesn't care about popular opinion. A pinch of humor in his mouth, lips turned up at the corners.

creepy
For unknown reasons, the restaurant plays a kind of soft, demented circus music. Everything turns sinister: the glint of cutlery, the irregular laughter. The waiter's secretive smile when I order a hamburger.

fabrication
He introduces me to "Two Truths, One Lie," where you share three things about yourself and everyone tries to guess which one is false. The U.S. states I've visited and number of miles I've walked in a day throw people off.

locomotives
For a couple of hours, we're absorbed in building train routes across Europe.

petulance
Unwilling to do something fun, she claims the sofa and calls attention to herself by complaining.

shrugging
When the adults are being childish, take a break from them and sit at the children's table.

understory
He's absorbed in his rain forest of pop-up trees and plastic prowling animals.

Week in Seven Words #302

capacities
It's possible to keep finding out fun things about people you've known all your life. Like how fiendishly good someone is at Connect Four.

carnival
Her dress makes me think of key lime pie and margaritas.

evidently
A "how to be happy" advice piece makes its rounds among people I know. It offers unelaborated suggestions like, "Don't be stressed!" and "Surround yourself with happy people!" Well, if we're all reading about how to be happy, we'll be surrounded for sure. We've definitely got a shot at this.

hit
He scrolls through online comments sections for an emotional charge: outrage, anger, confirmation of superiority.

scripted
Another rigged conversation, weighted in favor of the answers she wants.

stretch
I think the train is going to blow by the station. But it stops, with the sensation of a rubber band about to snap.

swirly
His thoughts travel like a paper airplane that drifts off-course and gets lodged in a ceiling fan.

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 #270

cradling
Held in place by the people around her, she falls asleep standing up in the subway car.

enthused
Flowers spilling out of the grocery store to meet the warmer air.

frenzied
We have a short time together. Make it count, I think. Tell funny stories, crack jokes. But I can't think of anything. My need to perform is proof of the distance between us. I can only wave and gesture and pull faces like a clown; anything more subtle won't get noticed.

glaring
Coffee in a solarium. He wishes he could smoke indoors too. He takes out his lighter and turns it in different angles until a blade of sunlight springs out of it.

intrusive
Fog probing the upper reaches of the tree.

unaccountable
It's hideous when parents turn one of their children into the brutal enforcement arm of their parental power. The child dispenses punishment - berates the other children, bullies and hits them. The parents watch calmly from their heights.

wreckage
The fire station has fallen apart. A truck and a police car have smashed into the pizzeria. Mermaids bob in the harbor next to capsized boats. The future of Lego City looks grim.

Week in Seven Words #263

absented
Historic plaques in grotty subway stations. The subway system is teeming with stories no one knows, because people don't like to look around when they're waiting on a platform. They pretend they're elsewhere, maybe already at their destination, and not underground in the stale air and filth.

hindsight
When I walk along the dead lawns, I imagine meeting my younger self, taking her by the shoulders, and telling her a thing or two.

linked
I hear them chanting, and their voices are like chains of silver.

obscure
You find it in the folds of her robes: an owl. Few people would spot it or think to look for it. It will never venture out of its sheltered spot.

projected
I know I have a craving for chocolate when every large brown boulder reminds me of fudge.

pronounced
Heliotrope lipstick and hair a traffic cone shade of orange. She's lit up like a flare in the gray neighborhood.

somnolence
The interior of the historic church is made of dust, marble and roses. A man in the pews bows his head - praying, or coaxed to sleep by incense and warmth.