TINY TUESDAY...m
Find a Conversation
TINY TUESDAY...m
| Tue, 06-04-2002 - 6:10am |
TINY TUESDAY...m
Hi, everybody! It's been awhile, but I'm glad to be back and I'm going to give this TT a try. Incorporate this partial sentence into your short piece. "If someone had told me ten years ago that I would be..." Have fun, Sammi

Pages
TT - Rockclimbing with Jim & Ginnie
If someone had told me ten years ago that I would be hanging by my fingertips from a ledge way too high above Zion’s Park, I’d have laughed. Hard. Rock climbing was right up there with having a root canal on my must-do-before-I-die list.
I have to admit, now that I’ve caught my breath though, the view from here is, well, dizzying. Don’t look down again, don’t look down! I thought it would be spectacular, but it’s actually more nauseating than anything.
I should have given myself a fortieth birthday at some isolated spa, where I’d now be relaxing beneath the warm hands of a massage therapist, instead of wondering how the heck I’m going to get back down from here. I don’t know why I let Ginnie talk me into this. This is definitely worse than my tenth, when she persuaded me into riding the upside-down roller coaster.
At least we were strapped into the seats then. I’m not sure I trust these ropes. I’m not sure I trust the climbing guide Jim, either.
“Annie,†he says, and I’m wondering exactly how much experience a twenty year-old can have. Of course this is what I get for letting Ginnie choose the guide. She wouldn’t have thought to ask him if he’d ever lost anyone. Or how many bones he’s broken and whether he had insurance. She probably picked him because he looks like Tarzan in a tank top. Do all guides climb barefooted?
“Annie,†Says Jim again, “Ready to go back down?†He makes his way closer, hand over hand, the rough edges of his fingers finding their way along the red rock with ease.
Ginnie’s already halfway back to the ground, zinging down on her rope like it’s nothing. I nod to Jim and he shows me again how to do what she’s doing. It doesn’t seem hard, but I have to let go. I don’t think I want to let go. Of course I can’t stay up here forever. And I’m starting to get hungry. My red pack’s a little dot below in the grass and I’m wishing I’d just gone hiking like a normal person not addicted to adrenaline. I can practically smell the oranges in my pack, so sweet.
“Come on!†Shouts Ginnie, and it echoes against the rain-stained canyon walls. “On...on...on...†She waves and flashes a grin and is off again. In another minute she touches down and peers back up at us.
“Go for it,†Urges Jim and finally, I make myself let go. A little bit. I’m flying down, well, not really flying, more like crawling along in the air, afraid to really let it rip. I inch down, wondering how wild flowers can grow horizontally out of solid rock like that, and Jim zings by me, chuckling. He touches down and yells back up.
“You’re almost there! There...there...†Now they’re both peering up at me, probably thinking I’m a complete idiot. At last I make it. My feet touch the ground again. Now, I think, I can die happy. Instead of on that ledge up there. I let go of the rope and start laughing, mainly at myself for being so scared. Ginnie hugs me, laughing too.
“See, wasn’t that great?†she smiles, “And oh, I’ve got a surprise, I almost forgot. You’ve got a full body massage waiting back at the hotel.â€
Ah, now that’s more like it.
Cute Story!...m
I like the way you handled her fear of going down. You did well with this piece. I enjoyed reading it, Sammi
TT:Cigs for Less
This is kinda dumb, so read at your own risk. (I'm trying to get over a slump. I think if this is any indication, the slump's not over. LOL. Sammi)
Cigs for Less
If someone had told me ten years ago that I would be standing here, marrying the guy from behind the counter at Cigs for Less, I would have thumbed my nose at them. "Not hardly," I'd have said. "I'm too cool to marry anybody who sells cigarettes for a living. I mean, mygawd, look at their teeth."
But here I am, wearing a calf length ivory satin dress, complete with a little white pillbox hat with a sheath of tulle covering my face, standing, waiting to marry this guy named Paul.
How'd I get here, you ask? It's a long story. It all began with Dave, my college sweetheart, and his nicotine habits. "Honey, can you go get me a pack of cigs?.. Honeypie, I only have a pack left, can you go get me some cigs?"
On and on, day after day, month after month, and years that seemed to blend together. It's no wonder that over the years that I got to know Paul better than Dave.
"Hi, Gale." Paul would greet me everytime. "Marlboro lights or 100's?"
"Oh, make it the lights. How you coming on your doctorate?"
"Just about there." He'd always answer.
But it was two years ago that Dave quit smoking and I started. I never have figured that one out. I quit Dave and started smoking. And I bought my cigarettes at the Cigs for Less shop, when Paul was working.
The "Hi, Gale." turned into "Gale, nice to see you." My hand would glide over his as he handed my change back. Our eyes would meet and I'm sure he was feeling the same thing I was, electricity.
The day that Paul told me he was leaving the Cigs for Less, going to Mobile for a teaching position, was a dismal moment for me. But I smiled and suggested we get together.
And here we are, six months later, standing and waiting to get married by the Justice of the Peace. Go figure.
Your narrator's feelings about rockclimbing (m)
happens to be my sentiments exactly. Same goes for skydiving!!! I liked the way you laced the details about Jim into the story. I had a vivid image of him. And I was happy with Ginnie's line about the full body massage waiting at the hotel. Her friend definitely deserved it.
Nice job,
Mac
You're on your way, Sammi (m)
to getting out of that slump. I liked your TT and felt it had a "real-life" feel to it. I also admired that Gale didn't judge Paul because he worked as a clerk in the cig shop. She got to know him and discovered who he was.
Mac
My TT exercise
“I know its here!” Arsta says as she jerks out the dresser drawers and flings out the clothes. “It has to be some place. If that slime bag thinks he can fool me, he’s wrong!”
She feels along the bottom and the top for any unusual bumps. The television noise breaks the silence while the air permeates of stale smoke and body odor. “When I find it, I’m gonna...”
Arsta feels a jab into her back as she hears, “You gonna do what, sweetheart?”
She slowly turns around and sees a gun pointing towards her chest. “Where is it B.J? Tell me or give it to me before I really get ticked off!” she says staring into his bloodshot eyes.
He snickers, “You’re not very bright. I’m the one with the gun. I give the orders. Now, move it, go into the living room.”
Arsta walks out of the bedroom, down the hall to the living room. She looks at the television and hears an attractive executive say to the petite,flawless beauty,“If someone had told me ten years ago that I would be involved with such a famous, hot babe I would have...” then the beauty bops him over the head with a pillow.
The brief distraction gives her an idea as she sits down on the plaid sofa. B.J. fidgets but still points the gun towards her. She notices the dark circles under his eyes, his pale color and sharp whiskers. His clothes are filthy and wrinkled.
“Where is it B.J.? We’re partners, remember? You owe me!”
“Are you wired, you’re way too calm? Take off your shirt,” he says while clicking the pistol.
“Okay, chill!” Arsta says then pulls her top over her head. “See, I’m not wired.”
“Take off your bra, now!”
She glares at him as she unclasps her black bra and her breasts fall out. He licks his lips and comes closer. B.J. reaches out to touch her bosom when she grabs his wrist, takes a pillow and throws it towards the gun. He pulls the trigger as she twists his arm behind him and kicks the weapon out of his other hand. She pushes him to the floor. Picking up the gun she clicks it and lodges it to his temple.
“Tell me where, the fifty carat diamond is!”
“Come on Arsta, we’re partners, let’s make a deal. I’ll tell you but first you put the gun down.”
“No deal, tell me where it is, you’ve got one chance.”
B.J. hesitates but when she applies more pressure to his arm he says, “It’s in the toe of my cowboy boot.”
One loud pop reverberates then the bullet takes his life. Arsta stands up, views his open eyes and then yanks off his boots. The odor assaults her nostrils as she searches the first boot and finds nothing. She checks the other boot and retrieves a piece of paper which reads: TAINT GONNA HAPPEN, HA, HA!
Arsta exits then closes the door and says, “Sonofabitch.”
Cool and Tarzan {m}
I'm not sure if a hunk like Tarzan could get me to rock climb LOL
This is an enjoyable read, I felt her fear and was with her the whole way and like her I would prefer a massage but then again, if I fell into Tarzan's arms, humm!
good job! Maria
This has a good rhythm to it {m}
Your writing flows so smooth, showoff LOL
This is an enjoyable read, and I like the twist, just wish that you didn't stop so soon, they are interesting characters.
It's great to have ya back! Good job...Maria
Superb story Maria. Arsta made a wonderful character. (m)
The story accelerated with ease. I like the ending sentence!
Good Job Maria.
Arsta was one tough cookie!!! (m)
I thought your story flowed well and I LOVED the boob trick. That was a clever way to get the gun away from B.J. But I was wondering if Astra put her shirt back on before she walked out the door?
Several lines I wanted to point out that I thought were really good: "...air permeates of stale smoke and body odor" and "...odor assaults her nostrils."
Mac
Pages