3 Word Wednesday

Today's words over at 3WW are: frantic, lurch and odor. Head on over to 3WW and check out all the others.

“The maintenance man noticed it first. Said he thought 3B’s fridge was on the fritz and the food inside spoiled.”

I nodded to the uniform standing in front of me, not really listening – I’d already heard the story from the two uni’s outside and the maintenance man himself. “So, who actually found the body?”

“Well, see Detective, that’s kinda a funny story - .”

“Oddly enough, I’m not here for the comedy hour, officer. Who the fuck found the body?” I managed to keep my voice low and not scream in the face of the newbie shuffling around in front of me.

“Sorry, ma’am. The next door neighbor’s dog found the body.”

“What? The dog?”

“Yes, ma’am. We’d just busted in the door to the apartment when the old woman next door opened her door to see what all the noise was and her yappy little dog ran out and straight into our crime scene, and right onto the body.”

“And nobody thought to stop the dog?” I could feel the blood rushing in my ears and a headache made itself known behind my right eye.

“Well, ma’am, he was fast.”

“Whatever.” I left him sputtering to a stop in the middle of the dingy hallway.

Two steps from the victim’s door, the odor hit me like a sledgehammer to the face. Jesus, whoever’s in there is frickin’ ripe.

“Well, hello, Detective.”

To my left stood the coroner - six and a half feet of skin and bones with a freakishly large nose. “Got any idea of when this one bit it?”

“I’d say about a week. Thermostat’s turned way up, so that sped up decomp. And then there was an unfortunate incident with the neighbor’s dog.” He gestured to a place on the vic’s cheek that had a chunk missing. “Guess the little pooch was hungry.”

I turned and slowly surveyed the room. Someone had trashed the place. “Maybe an interrupted burglary?”

“Maybe.” I could hear the frantic yipping of the neighbor’s dog through the thin apartment walls. “Or, maybe she offed herself. Couldn’t stand listening to that damn mutt any longer.”

“Doubt it. She was strangled.”

I looked at him and raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to go on. When he didn’t, I counted to ten and reminded myself to breathe. “So, got anything else for me?”

He looked up from the body and leered at me. There really was no other word for it, other than creepy and disgusting. “Honey, I sure do have something else for you.”

I spun on my heel and walked away when he grabbed his crotch. “Fuck off, Lurch.”

His laughter followed me into the hallway. Just another fun filled Monday morning.

Two Sentence Tuesday

Hey everyone! It’s Tuesday, so that means it’s time for another two sentence Tuesday.

I entered a contest at http://cornelldeville.blogspot.com and voting ends today at noon, so if you can find it in your heart, I need all the votes I can get. I’m entry 41. Check it out!

Here are two lines from that entry:

She looked closer to a lonely college kid hiding behind heavy eyeliner, purple nail polish and a bad attitude. At least she hadn’t colored her long blond hair an unnatural shade of black.

The last two lines I read were from Nicholas Sparks’ Dear John. I don’t have the book with me, I finished it early yesterday. I know better than to read his books. I cry and then I’m angry about the end. Always. It is a form of self torture for me to read them.

Oh, well. Head on over to the Women of Mystery for more Two Sentence Tuesday! (And thanks for any votes you swing my way!)

Two Line Tuesday

Things are super busy right now. We are about to open a huge exhibit at work, the final adoption hearing is on February 8, and school is really busy for hubby right now. That said, the only interesting thing I've written lately is a short article for our international newsletter. I'm trying to get back in the swing of things. Think good thoughts that our opening on Friday night goes well!!

Here are the last two lines I read, from Lynne Viehl's Night Lost:
"It is the new communion," Leary said, nodding. "To partake of ruined flesh, turn polluted blood into wine. It is fed to those in rapture so that they might know the power and glory of the lord. Sometimes I am permitted to watch."

And here are a couple of lines from my most recent article:
Coke lived during the age of the oxcart, horse and buggy, the horseless carriage, the atom bomb and the beginning of the space program. He never drove a car, but was an accomplished “back seat” driver. He may not have intended to enter the horse business, but fate had other ideas for him.

For more Two Sentence Tuesday, head over the the Women of Mystery. Have a wonderful day!

Two Sentence Tuesday

Hi all! I'm back! Life has been crazy busy lately. For all interested Aaron is doing really well. He is adjusting beautifully (better than I am some days). He is starting to have a few night terrors, but we are trying to work through them. It is hard because he still has difficulty communicating sometimes. His speech therapy is going really well, and in the three months he's been with us, he's gone from having a vocabulary of 10-15 words to 100s, and he talks constantly. Our newest game is to read a book to him one time, and then he "reads" it to us. It is amazing what he can remember.

Right now his favorite song is the theme song from Cops. You know the one, "Bad boys, bad boys, what you gonna do, what you gonna do when they come for you." He walks around singing that all the time, except he changed the lyrics. For him the song goes, "Bad dog, bad dog, what you do, what you do."

For only being two, he amazes me. Okay, enough about my personal life, on to the writing. I am participating in NaNoWriMo. It is only a few days in, and I am behind. Not a lot, but behind none the less. I'm really trying to catch up though.

I am reading Charlaine Harris' Dead Until Dark again. And the last two lines I read were:

Not knowing what to think, I went home to find that Andy Bellefleur had been roused by his pager. he'd left me a note telling me that, and nothing else. Later on, I found that he'd actually been in the hospital while I was there, and waited until I was gone out of consideration for me before he'd handcuffed Jason to the bed.

From my NaNo project:

Within minutes Monica Blake had been pushed to the back corner of his mind. Not forgotten, not completely, but not his sole focus any longer. Too many deaths crowded his days.

Take a trip over to the Women of Mystery to check out more Two Sentence Tuesday fun!

3 Word Wednesday

The prompts at 3WW today are: luster, threat, and glare.

Terror begins to overwhelm me.
Headaches, nausea, aches and pains.
The luster of happiness cracked under stress.
With no way to defend myself,
I tremble in the face of the threat.
It feels like I am under hot lights,
Sweating through their glare.
Fear and loathing coats my skin,
Leaving an oily stain on my soul.


We found out last night that there may be some issues with us adopting our son. Think good thoughts for us, January can't come soon enough.

3WW - Imagination

This weeks words over at 3WW are: capture, jinx and qualify. Here's a little something about my unfortunate imagination.

It doesn’t take much to capture the attention of someone like me. Someone who watches others, waiting for just the right action, a moment of inattention resulting in calamity. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to jinx anyone, but a little accident makes great fodder for my imagination.

I don’t wish misfortune on anyone, but I wait for it. I watch for the hurried businessman, nose buried in the Wall Street Journal, to trip on a crack in the sidewalk, spill his $12 latte on the lawyer striding the opposite direction, engrossed in her cell phone.

My imagination spins on from there.

Her red dress ruined, the lawyer screams at the businessman, who backs up a step, whacking a homeless man with his briefcase. The homeless man careens into a bike messenger who is distracted by the race he has to win today to qualify for a triathlon. The biker spins out of control and falls onto the busy roadway. A semi truck is roaring down the street, horn blaring, tons and tons of death looming near. When suddenly, a little old lady, a grandma out for a stroll with her young grandson sees what is happening. She tells the boy to stay where he is, and swoops into action. Tossing aside her cane, the old woman dashes into the street, narrowly missing cars whizzing by, grabs the bike messenger by the back of the shirt and jerks him out of harms way.

I smile a little as I watch the reality unfold in front of me. The busy man trips and spills his coffee on the woman in the red dress. She gasps, he apologizes and they both walk away.

Shaking my head, I wander farther down the street hoping for a little more misfortune.

For more fun with words head over to 3WW. It felt so great to write this. I know it isn't a masterpiece, but it is mine and it isn't a report for work or a note for a social worker. It is just pure fiction. Refreshing after almost a month of NO WRITING. Thanks for visiting!

The Mystery of Life

Why is it that every time I feel like I just can't fight any longer, something happens and changes my life.

As some of you know, hubby and I have been trying to adopt for a while now. The process is slow and ultimatly painful at times, but we hadn't given up. When we first started out, we were positive that we could never be a foster home. How could we ever give a child that we'd grown to love back to someone that had hurt them?

Time went by and we worked with foster homes and the AMAZING foster families in our area. Still not totally convinced we waited, praying we would find the right child for us.

Sometimes, I get discouraged too easily, I know that, hubby knows that, everyone I know, knows that. I was truly afraid we would never find a child that was right for us. So, hubby and I started talking about fostering. It was still just a thought, we weren't totally committed to the idea, but we were thinking about it.

Just about the time we decided to maybe take the chance, God took over our lives.

On Wednesday, two days ago, our adoption caseworker emailed me at 4:45. There was a two year old little boy up for adoption, no mental problems, no physical problems, no real medical problems. The catch, no photo and he had to be placed by the end of the week. Were we interested?

I called hubby. We agreed that yes, this is the one we've been looking for. I called our caseworker and told her yes, yes, yes. We want him. I didn't hear from her again that night.

Fast forward to Thursday. I email our caseworker to ask some questions. Her response. The other social worker has narrowed it down to us and one other couple. It may be a while before we know anything. That was 9:00 am.

At 11:15, I check my cell phone for the millionth time, and I have a voicemail. It's our caseworker. the message: Congratulations. Your son will be in your home on Saturday.

Euphoria quickly turned to panic. It is now Friday. In 24 hours, I will be a mother of a two year old. I'm scared, excited, freaked out, terrified and totally unprepared.

Wish us luck.