Welcome to Five Word Weekly. Each Monday, I will post five random words to Greg’s Blog at 5:00am Eastern Time (Canada/United States). Your task is to craft prose or poetry using any or all of the word prompts. How you participate is entirely up to you. Your work(s) can be a single piece, a series of stand-alone projects, or an epic serial. Let the words be the inspiration that takes you wherever your imagination leads.
Here are your prompt words for the week of January 9th, 2023:
Be creative and have fun. I look forward to reading what each of you conjures up. Don’t forget to show your fellow bloggers some love -❤️- take some time to read, like, and comment on their responses.
Charlton grimaced every time the plaintiffs’ lawyers referred to him as “Good-Time Charlie” while assassinating his good character. He’d been cleared criminally, so what if it was on a technicality, he’d done nothing wrong. All this acrimony towards him was nothing more than regret, a way to rationalize a sordid past and leave it behind.
“No idea, I told the lazy bastard if he stood still too long he was going to grow roots. I didn’t think he’d literally become part of the landscape though.”
“What?”
“You know, they say the faeries run through these gardens. They can be mischievous folk, maybe Bill rubbed one of them the wrong way and poof!”
“Stop it, this isn’t funny. He wouldn’t run off without his boots. Where did he go?”
“Sorry, I don’t know what else to tell you. I ran up to the house and he was gone when I got back. I have no clue why he left his boots or where he’s gone.”
Ok, so I wasn’t exactly being truthful. You see Bill was a douché and when my best friend headed into town to pick up some more gardening supplies the pig made a pass at me. I let him think there was a chance, flirted with him some and talked him into undressing. The moment he turned his back to set his boots on the stump… well let’s just say I finally found a use for that old pitchfork. He ain’t with the faery folk and I am certain he won’t be coming back. She is better off without him anyway. As for his boots, they are more useful as planters than they ever were on his feet.
Family gathered in a circle, arms crossed and hands clasped together. Frantically we assemble as the anticipation builds… 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 – “Happy New Year!” …and then the room breaks into song, “Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind…”
Auld Lang Syne
Scottish Traditional (Robert Burns)
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne?
Chorus
For auld lang syne, my jo,
for auld lang syne,
we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp!
and surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
Chorus
We twa hae run about the braes,
and pu'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary foot,
sin auld lang syne.
Chorus
We twa hae paidl'd i' the burn,
frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
sin auld lang syne.
Chorus
And there's a hand, my trusty fiere!
and gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak a right gude-willy waught,
for auld lang syne.
Chorus
Modern
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne?
Chorus
For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
And surely you'll buy your pint cup!
and surely I'll buy mine!
And we'll take a cup o' kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
Chorus
We two have run about the hills,
and picked the daisies fine;
But we've wandered many a weary foot,
since auld lang syne.
Chorus
We two have paddled in the stream,
from morning sun till dine;
But seas between us broad have roared
since auld lang syne.
Chorus
And there's a hand my trusty friend!
And give us a hand o' thine!
And we'll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne.
Chorus
Eloise missed him. He had always been there for his little Angel. He dried her eyes when she had skinned her knee or bumped her head. He’d soothed her broken heart when she caught a glimpse of her best friend Jeannie and her first boyfriend kissing by the lockers in tenth grade. He buoyed her confidence when Harvard rejected her application, telling everyone she was too good for them anyway. He reminded her that plenty of other schools would be knocking down the doors to have her attend. He was right, she was more an MIT girl anyway.
She could believe it had been five years since he’d passed on. He’d been riddled with cancer, and she couldn’t bear to be there for him like he’d done for her so many times. It hurt too much to see him suffering and she feared living in a world without him.
The last six months had been the shittiest she could recall. The Chinese firm that had bought out her employer immediately fired the senior management team and 500 others. Employment Insurance didn’t cover the rent and it was overdue. It was only a matter of time before the landlord came to collect/evict.
Worst of all there was a heaviness in her heart. She couldn’t shake it off. It consumed the very blood pumping through her veins, turning it into a gloomy gray sludge. It weighed her legs down and zapped any reserved energy she may have had, leaving her helplessly paralyzed.
She thought she heard his voice in the hallway outside her apartment, so she immediately ran to the door. Several of the neighbour’s kids stopped playing hall-ball and looked at her. She stared through them to the window at the far end hoping to glimpse him. Of course, he wasn’t waiting there. She was about to turn and go back inside when a little boy tugged at her hand.
“Miss, are you sad?” he asked.
Overwhelmed, the tears began to roll down her cheeks as she nodded at him.
“Would you like a hug?”
Her eyes scan the corridor finally fixing on those of the little boy’s Mom. She smiles back in approval so Eloise kneels down to face the child at his level.
“I’d love a hug,” she replies through her tears and forced smile.
In an instant, this tiny yet surprisingly strong creature wraps his little arms around her and whispers in her ear, “Don’t worry Angel, everything is going to be alright.” After a short pause he continues, “That’s what my Daddy says when I’m sad.”
“Mine too,” she said, holding him for a moment longer but wishing it could be forever.
Welcome to Five Word Weekly. Each Monday, five words will magically appear on Greg’s Blog at 5:00am Eastern Time (Canada/United States). Your task is to craft prose or poetry using any or all of the word prompts. How you participate is entirely up to you. Your work(s) can be a single piece, a series of stand-alone projects, or an epic serial. Let the words be the inspiration that takes you wherever your imagination leads.
Sillinger slipped in through the back door. Clearly, there had been an advertisement, likely on social media or across the dark web, disclosing his whereabouts. The leak was born in the weaknesses of those in the know. The seeds of discontent sown and already lingering amongst his own rank and file. Only a handful of people knew his movements yet the streets out front were lined with tens of thousands of people.
The briefcase he carried held everything and nothing. The solution to the one burning question that humankind had yearned to solve for millennia. In a single stroke, the course of human history would change forever.
That is why the throngs had gathered. Some ready to embrace the unknown blindly, some looking to exploit it for personal gain, and some are just plain naive and curious. Still others, the disruptors as they were referred, were paralyzed by the impending apocalypse they believed was being brought down upon them. No matter the reasons it reinforced the belief that the world was not ready. The upheaval could prove disastrous, sending the world into a tizzy if the truth was revealed prematurely.
Some secrets are best left in the hands of the few revolutionaries who understand the gravity they hold. Curated and nurtured while a campaign of information and reform is allowed to seep into the collective conscious. Designed to diffuse the acrimony towards the establishment sudden revelation can illicit.
It could take decades, maybe centuries for society to catch up to the science. Until then Sillinger’s task was monumental. He would need to dispel all truths and myths about what it was the foundation held in its custody.
He was unlikely to see the fruition of his labours, other than in small doses amongst his peers. The transformative nature of the content of the briefcase would remain as much a mystery to him as those standing in the street below.
Welcome to Five Word Weekly. Each Monday, five words will magically appear on Greg’s Blog at 5:00am Eastern Time (Canada/United States). Your task is to craft prose or poetry using any or all of the word prompts. How you participate is entirely up to you. Your work(s) can be a single piece, a series of stand-alone projects, or an epic serial. Let the words be the inspiration that takes you wherever your imagination leads.
The Words
Happy New Year from Greg’s Blog and Five Word Weekly. This week, the word selections are inspired by the beginning of the new year. Although the challenge does not adhere to a weekly theme, the group of words presented may occasionally share a common thread. You as the author can write about anything without being bound to a theme.
Greg's Blog 