Ready, Steady, Write # 3

We hold worlds of words in our hands, hearts and heads.
Tell me a story about this image.
Allow it to spark, not dictate.
If you don’t feel like writing, WRITE ANYWAY.
If you can’t give it ten minutes, give it ten lines.
Make the time for ten lines.
I invite at least TEN people to share their TEN lines.
It’s a gift to yourself, me, and all reading, to see how each of us crafts something Unique
From the same raw material.
Take a few deep breaths.
On your marks, get set…

12 Responses to “Ready, Steady, Write # 3”

  1. Anonymous
    February 3, 2012 at 8:46 am #

    The beach ball was printed like a globe. After we’d blown it up Cathy drew a red felt tip cross to mark Edinburgh which is where we live, but she’s only six and her geography was way off so it looks like we live in Inverness and even though it’s her beach ball things like that matter to me. Daddy sent it for her birthday through the post in a big brown envelope with a card inside and she burst into tears and said he’d promised her a puppet. When Cathy went off into the dunes to pee I dipped my stripy beach towel in the sea and rubbed at the mark as hard as I could, but although my towel got red dye all over it which wouldn’t rinse out, the cross didn’t budge. Maybe the sun dries things in, the same way it dries things out, like the lizardy women lying all around us. I could see Cathy running back towards me so I pretended I was wrapping up the ball in the towel, like a parcel. I’m nine and if I wanted to mark Edinburgh on a beach ball I’d make sure I got it right because getting things right is important. If Daddy had got things right he wouldn’t have had to leave. That’s what mummy says. I get things right a lot and if Daddy had asked me I would have helped him to do it too but now it’s too late. That’s what mummy says.

  2. Amanda Meheux
    February 3, 2012 at 3:52 pm #

    The minute he got home he leapt out of the car and ran towards the park, he needed to take it all in and the only place to do that was high in the ancient branches of his favourite tree. He had a momentary flashback to his father lifting there when he was small, tears pricked the back of his eyes. His pace quickened as he saw the tree in the distance and by the time he reached his arboreal haven, he was quite breathless, his heart pounding as he steadied himself against the trunk. Once he recovered his breath he bent down and removed his shoes and socks, the crisp grass and crunchy leaves felt good beneath his feet. Effortlessly he hoisted himself up onto one of the the sturdy branches, and lay down. Shards of warm sunlight broke through the dense green canopy and played on his face. Once there, he allowed the tears to come, soft gentle tears that slid down the side of his face and neck, dampening the collar of his new black sweater.He'd thought twice about wearing it today, but the brighter colours in his wardrobe just didn't seem right, there had been no guarantee of a a bright shiny outcome. So a sombre young boy had walked into the office, his chest tight with anticipation, and a disbelieving young man had walked out.He reached his arms to the sky, it was almost as if he was holding the very world in his hands.Suddenly he had been given a future, everything was possible.The tumour was gone…..

  3. Kristin
    February 3, 2012 at 5:49 pm #

    Well, Craig thought, this is awkward. One minute it's a goofy game of catch with an oversize beach ball, pretending, thanks to the graphic, that you've "got the whole world in your hands" and the next you are up a tree trying to save the day and keep your daughter's fourth "Explorer" theme birthday party from going straight in the toilet.Although his ex wife had mocked him for wearing them, she couldn't argue that the huaraches were easy to slip off and all those months on the rock climbing wall at the gym clearly had paid off because he was clambered up without a second thought…who has the last laugh now, Claire? Sure, her new boyfriend, Brad (or is it Tad?), might be making a fortune off his clearly suspect "importing' business, but is it Brad (Tad?) who has is ass up in a damn tree? I think not! Instead of tossing the ball right back down into the waiting arms of his sweet little Penny, Craig took a moment to look around and savor his small but party saving victory. Alimony, shared custody and a crappy rental apartment briefly faded away and, from his perch up in the tree, holding that ridiculous bouncy globe, he felt, for the first time in months, that maybe he would survive the divorce.

  4. Luis Ullán
    February 3, 2012 at 6:04 pm #

    Dear humans:My cruel destiny is made of sorrow. That´s it. And I don´t hide myself. On the contrary, I admit I´ll always be lonely. A regrettable mediocrity will mark my existence because I will never be able to make all desires come true. And that scares me to death. I would like to bring happiness and smiles, but I´m like a huge tower without merlon, forever captive by vanity on this garden. Here, where there´s nobody else but me…. And the thing is that I just can´t stand solitude. That´s why a made this blue ball. My toy. My favourite toy.But don´t judge me. I´m trying to rule it as good as I can, I promise. I swear I´d love to make all of you happy… but sometimes I just want to play with my little, fantastic toy.Sorry for the inconvenience.The Alpha and the Omega.

  5. Ally Atherton
    February 5, 2012 at 5:03 pm #

    Well here I am on a sunny afternoon with the whole world in my hands. When I set of for work this morning this really was the last thing I expected to happen.And what's with the tree? It looks like a beach ball and feels like a beach ball but I know it is the world itself.I can feel the weight of humanity holding its breath as I turn it slowly in its new orbit. So here I am. Clinging onto the edge of a tree with the fate of mankind at my fingertips. A world inside a world and I am God and I am me at the same time and I am late for work. Why was I given this honour and what do I do with the world now that I have it all to myself? Or is it just a ball after all?

  6. Jenn Poole
    February 5, 2012 at 7:01 pm #

    Sometimes his back and shoulders ache. Sometimes he grows tired of being misinterpreted and just wants to go along with the common mistake of the famous myth: that he holds up the Earth. Sometimes he actually wants to hold only the Earth, and let the other celestial bodies fly away or spin apart or drop as they will (Mercury is usually lost in the glare of the sun, Venus is so hot to touch, Pluto is so cold and now a dwarf-planet anyway … why should he care?). But this blue-green marble, warm and wet and humming with voices that keep him company in his loneliest moments (which they all are), this one matters to him. Today he wants to hold only this sphere, turn it slowly, gaze down into the numinous expanses of green and brown and blue and white. And so he places the Earth carefully in his palm, sneaks away behind a remote corner of the universe, and reclines in galactic trees that the Titans grew and abandoned. Atlas brings the blue-green marble close to his trembling lips and whispers: Do you know how precious you are to each other?

  7. Lou
    February 5, 2012 at 7:34 pm #

    An awkward man in an ugly tree holding a garish ball.Who is he trying to be. Why is he trying so hard. who climbs a tree barefoot and holds an inflatable globe? This just says discomfort and trying too too hard.Can't do 10 lines, but this picture makes me cross.

  8. Frahnseen
    February 6, 2012 at 4:06 pm #

    in the branches of a big tree, the world in my handswhich world? Internal, external, yours, mine?do I laugh with glee, throw it in the air or fearfully crash it to the ground?do i want this chance, this power, this responsibility?after all it's just an illusion is it not?this feeling of control over my life?one small pin prick and the world in my hands is a piece of flattened plasticone misstep and I fall to the ground bruised and sorequick snap a photo of me safe in the arms of this tree, the world in my handsfor this moment is all that matters; and this too shall pass

  9. john miami
    February 6, 2012 at 9:35 pm #

    Relaxed in a tree…how I wish it could be me. My life goes from ocean to ocean, love from sea to sea, my conflict is knowing where I should be. As I grow older the earth seems smaller to me, brand loyality reaches all that want to see the same as me. Yet can be exhausting as if the air is being released. I'm holding on tight so that i can try to see, where is the next place I might want to be. If only I could bring all of you with me! It would then be the best place to be, all of my friends relaxing with me in this tree. Miss you friend……………….

  10. Anonymous
    February 7, 2012 at 3:00 am #

    "Ughhh" Max groaned. He wondered why he had gone along with Dean again. This time Dean had bet him fifty bucks to go sit up in a tree holding an inflatable globe. Dean would probably never give him the money. Max moaned as the wood cut into his back. He heard laughter and and the sound of running feet and turned to see Dean and the rest of the group making a run for it. By now there where about ten people crowded round the tree staring at poor Max perched uncomfortably. I'm such an idiot, he thought. He slowly and steadily started to climb out of the tree. He was humiliated as people pulled their phones out and started filming him as he struggled. Max finally made it down and pushed his way through the sniggering crowd. "I hate Dean," he muttered under his breath "he better not mess with me again."- (C.E.G.)

  11. Anonymous
    February 7, 2012 at 5:15 pm #

    TreesThere was an apple tree in our front yard growing up. We would climb up in it after being down the street at the park with Dad on his regular Thursday afternoon visits. Five kids with an age span of nine years, all climbing and hanging and swinging and reaching and jumping. Dad would tell us stories and answer our never ending questions, but mostly he'd make us laugh. I can feel that tree's smooth bark under my hands now, even though I am thirty plus years older and over a thousand miles away.There was a lone oak tree that we'd hike to in the hills up above Brentwood when we were older. Dad named it The Serenity Tree. I followed his lead and gave the tree a hug every time I stood under its protective shade. The trunk was so thick that I would barely get my arms around the half of it while my cheek would press against its thick bark. Dad told me that he'd written a poem about The Serenity Tree, to be read after he died. When that time came, I found that poem among so many of his others in a leather journal I had given him. It said that we would be able find him at that tree, or any other tree of our choice. There was a weeping willow tree on a ranch in Malibu that I chose to stand near with my husband on our wedding day. I walked myself down the aisle between our families and friends towards its soft welcoming branches. I could feel that Dad was with me every step of the way. When I was a new mother to my two children, who are fourteen months apart, I often carried them both at the same time. One of those countless times I was lying back on the sofa with them both asleep in my arms. My husband walked into the room and said, "Look at you. You're a baby tree." And he's called me Tree ever since.Karen H.

  12. Barbara L.
    February 9, 2012 at 5:16 pm #

    the tree breathes out and we breathe inwe breathe out and the tree breathes ina co-dependent relationshipwhere would we be, without the tree?in seeking knowledge about the world around us,the fruit-bearing tree was our first teacher am I a tree hugger?with all that trees do for us, they deserve to be hugged

Leave a Reply