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 #127

filament
A friend I haven't seen or spoken to in years, speaks to me in a gift I find while cleaning out a drawer: a little jewelry box and in it a small scrolling paper bearing a message about dreams, beauty, and light. Her name signed at the bottom.

impassioned
Ray Charles sang the best rendition of "America the Beautiful" I've heard so far.

larded
A paper made indigestible by jargon.

nonpartisan
Napping on a hot afternoon is the best way to stay clear of trouble.

panicled
Purple hydrangea blossoms and books neatly stacked on my newly tidied desk.

retrogress
Without knowing it, they push me towards making the same unsuitable choices as before.

sobering
The rumble of fireworks and the sigh and shout of the crowds are pierced from time to time by an ambulance or firetruck wailing in the distance.

Week in Seven Words #85

confines
Résumés remind me of straitjackets.

fruitage
Apple sauce and apples smeared in almond butter. Autumn foods.

homey
Padding around the apartment, wearing socks to stay warm. Different books wait for me on tables and armrests.

pother
When she's fearful she likes to recruit people to her fears. She gets them excited and ready to act, agitates them, like a girl splashing around on the beach getting water in people's eyes and convincing them a shark's fin is just a dozen feet away.

sparklers
The large padded envelope she brings me is splashed with bright colors and streamers, and it yields cards and smaller envelopes like starbursts.

summertide
One lingering summer night. It's balmy out on the porch, where the trees creep close and leaves rattle on the paved path.

swing
Sing, Sing, Sing played by The Benny Goodman Orchestra beats and blares and explodes out of my laptop. It's the kind of music that can make people feel like born dancers.