Chance: Every blessed chance that falls from the brilliant morning rose-colored sky to the worn toes of my chucks, I grasp. And if it’s a little further from me, I take a step. I lurch. I dive. I run. I toss my muscles forward like I did when I got my first chance to look into her eyes – when a glimpse became . . . That it was those eyes I wanted to look into when I awoke from a nap on our black leather couches on a stifling hot summer afternoon.
Mist: The mist was dense and low on the cool West Bay water. Yogi stood with his front paws on the end of the wet sand, and leaned down each time a wave swept in. It gave me a chuckle on this early fall morning because he was always about two seconds too late to actually drink the water.
Trade: “I will trade you a Ken Griffy Jr. rookie card for that Tim Hardaway rookie card. Deal?” That’s what I said to Todd, my best friend as a boy. We made the trade and I promptly dropped the card I received between the deck boards of his parents’ house. He offered to undo the trade, but that didn’t seem fair to me. I was out a card. Kinda bummed, but that’s life. Sometimes you drop things down a hole. Other times things fall in your lap.
Account: To account for each moment that has passed without one of us intently focused on the air filling our lungs and fueling our hearts would be a simple matter of counting to seven on any two of our four hands. It wouldn’t matter because we are, and will forever be, together.
Average: See blog entry on September 15th, 2011 titled, “Applebottom, Alberta.”
Pouch: The pale green cotton liner of the frayed like a bottomless nest hemp coin pouch I purchased from a street vendor in Barcelona, Spain while studying abroad during my Junior year at Iowa State (finally) gave way to the weight of my nickles and dimes while I was standing in line at Good Harbor Coffee. The change fell from my waist height to the brown tile floor and rolled in various directions, redirected by the dips and edges formed by the grout and tile. I knew I was on borrowed time with this purse, but found it terribly inconvenient that it had to give way at that moment in time – in a crowded coffee shop – in the morning before I purchased my coffee – on the tile floor.
Link to OneWord.com, which prompts me with each of the words and provides one minute to write about that word. Sometimes I run long.