OldDogNewTits












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Remember my friend, Trifecta? Well, he (or she … I’ve never been sure) is turning one this month and celebrating with a special writing prompt that can only be completed with a partner. Not surprisingly, I’m working with Mel at AccordingToMags.comShe wooed me actually. I was so flattered. She is the yin to my yang. The Ernie to my Bert. The Peaches to my Herb. The … whatever. She. Completes. Me.

* * * * * * * * * *

So … here’s the prompt Trifecta put up this week.

  • Charts and optimal dates and preferential temperatures. One line or two. As if she could summon whatever it is that makes up the human soul as easily as she could a cab on a busy New York avenue.

And … here’s Mel’s additional 33-100 words.

  • And just like the cabs that passed her by, ignoring the urgency in her body language, she felt herself losing hope that she would never get to where she desperately wanted to go. Maybe those missed moments were meant to steer her in another direction? She feared waiting too long and with each step forward, she began to lose sight of her original plan. Luckily, she had left a trail of tears along the way to help guide her back.

Now … enter me. I’m supposed to write 33-100 more words to link here. And we’re in SUCH a deep and earnest place. *PANIC*

Sadly though, she was completely unaware of the heat wave that would soon befall her fair city. And the same tears that COULD have carried her home now sizzled on the steaming pavement beneath her feet, disappearing into the air and creating a fog that would serve to blind her and lead her forever astray.

OFFICIALLY, my entry ends here. That’s what Mel and I agreed upon. There were originally three more sentences Mel and I elected to leave out. And I understand why Mel gently suggested they hit the cutting room floor. Still, I think anytime you can work German pork products into a story, you totally should. UNOFFICIALLY, of course. So close your eyes, Trifecta. Here’s the coda.

  • Plus, now she was craving something that sizzled. Like a good knockwurst. Which, ironically, probably meant that she was, in fact, finally pregnant.

Good Lord. Sometimes I exhaust myself.

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