Writer's Block(s)
(Well, I may have writer’s block, but Mercy obviously has NOT. Take a look at her comment, suggesting this is a cleverly concealed word puzzle and challenge — it wasn’t, but it’s turned into one —and jump right in if you’d like —-)
I AM THRILLED.
Several of you did just that, jumped right in and ran with a gripping story direct to a crossroads, which is where we are right now —
Rebekah, bringing our heroine to an ominous, dark place—
Mercy, bringing the story full circle and rounding on Jen —
(John W., having provided the fulcrum, sits back and waits —)
Does it go on?
Do we leave it here?
Dear Reader, it’s up to You.
(Click on the comments to access them all, including the evolving story, and thanks to everybody for the fun)
Touch2Touch 
Blocks are good things – now and then. They remind us that there is more to our lives than words can tell. Go live for awhile and eventually the words will realize you can do without them and they will surround you again and clamor for your attention…
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THAT is a wonderful promise — and picture!
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Yes, you’ll get over this little pile of blocks 🙂
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Thanks for the encouragement, Rebekah —
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I didn’t notice the caption and thought instead you were really challenging us with a word puzzle – the other readers of your blog are astute, observant, and supportive, and often smart, cute, funny, wise to boot!
Anyway I think the word reads “UPON” and it could be part of a strange string …
“Once upon a time….”,
or the start of another string
“‘Upon my word, you must think me a fool!’, said she and slammed the door.”…
Wonder what comes next 😉
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Wow, Mercy! I better look at the photo more closely — All I had in mind was a statement: just the facts, ma’am.
I LOVE your interpretation, and your opening line, and I also wonder what comes next —
Anyone want to add another line or two or three? Who knows where that could go?
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A writer’s block or a writer’s blog. They do sound alike. In sports, a block is a defensive measure, something you do to ward off an attack. So my feeling is that you should go with the blow or another sound alike…the flow
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This begins to look like some kind of blogging/blocking dynamic: my block is pushing me back, and pushing you guys forward!
Way to go, Mercy and F.B.!
(or Flow on!)
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“Upon my word, you must think me a fool!,” said she and slammed the door.
Mercy looked at the limp bouquet of wildflowers in her hand, and shook her head back and forth.
‘This is his grand gesture for my affection?” she said angrily out loud, then fell to the floor in tears.
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But —
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– the floor opened up and she tumbled down a –
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The story so far —
“Upon my word, you must think me a fool!,” said she and slammed the door.
Mercy looked at the limp bouquet of wildflowers in her hand, and shook her head back and forth.
‘This is his grand gesture for my affection?” she said angrily out loud, then fell to the floor in tears.
But – the floor opened up and she tumbled down a –
(Come on, people! What did she tumble down? And then what ?)
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(The story so far—)
“Upon my word, you must think me a fool!,” said she and slammed the door.
Mercy looked at the limp bouquet of wildflowers in her hand, and shook her head back and forth.
‘This is his grand gesture for my affection?” she said angrily out loud, then fell to the floor in tears.
But – the floor opened up and she tumbled down a –
chute, but surprisingly enough, she landed on her feet. When she came to, she found herself looking at a rather cramped space with rough walls where moisture was evaporating … dripping … There was a big, heavy door though and a little bit of light was trickling out underneath it….
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(The story so far—)
“Upon my word, you must think me a fool!,” said she and slammed the door.
Mercy looked at the limp bouquet of wildflowers in her hand, and shook her head back and forth.
‘This is his grand gesture for my affection?” she said angrily out loud, then fell to the floor in tears.
But – the floor opened up and she tumbled down a –
deep dark abyss, plunged into depths of a despair the likes of which she had never known. She had blown it, blown her chances with the kindest, and sweetest creature to have walked on gods’ earth! It was not the wilted flowers, not the unreturned calls or emails… but just the way his eyes lit up whenever Jen walked into the room!
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One of the stories so far…
“Upon my word, you must think me a fool!” said she and slammed the door.
Mercy looked at the limp bouquet of wildflowers in her hand, and shook her head back and forth.
‘This is his grand gesture for my affection?” she said angrily out loud, then fell to the floor in tears.
But – the floor opened up and she tumbled down a –
chute, but surprisingly enough, she landed on her feet. When she came to, she found herself looking at a rather cramped space with rough walls where moisture was evaporating … dripping … There was a big, heavy door though and a little bit of light was trickling out underneath it….
enough light so that she could see that one of the heavy pieces of wood at the bottom was rotten. She tossed the wilted flowers aside and knelt before the door. She dug her fingers into the rotted wood, gave a frantic yank, and fell back on the wet floor. Rising, she kicked at the splintered wood until, when she knelt and peered through the hole, she could see what lay beyond the ruined door. Her eyes grew round with wonder and fear for she found herself looking straight into the eyes of
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(Breathlessly we wait……..)
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“Upon my word, you must think me a fool!” said she and slammed the door.
Mercy looked at the limp bouquet of wildflowers in her hand, and shook her head back and forth.
‘This is his grand gesture for my affection?” she said angrily out loud, then fell to the floor in tears.
But – the floor opened up and she tumbled down a –
chute, but surprisingly enough, she landed on her feet. When she came to, she found herself looking at a rather cramped space with rough walls where moisture was evaporating … dripping … There was a big, heavy door though and a little bit of light was trickling out underneath it….
enough light so that she could see that one of the heavy pieces of wood at the bottom was rotten. She tossed the wilted flowers aside and knelt before the door. She dug her fingers into the rotted wood, gave a frantic yank, and fell back on the wet floor. Rising, she kicked at the splintered wood until, when she knelt and peered through the hole, she could see what lay beyond the ruined door. Her eyes grew round with wonder and fear for she found herself looking straight into the eyes of
a person that seemed familiar, all too familiar. She closed her eyes for a second or two, then looked again.
“Yep,” she thought to herself. “This time I’ve really lost it.”
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Two stories, two (temporary?) conclusions —
Brilliant performances all around!
(I feel like an auctioneer: Are we done? Are we through? Going, going —)
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just stopped by to take a quick look at the progress – even if in an hour we are leaving for… India!!
Can’t wait to catch up with this story – I simply love where this is going – so sorry I have to miss the fun!
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Namaste, Mercy!
Good travels, happy family wedding, safe home again —
and thank you for being the onlie begetter of the story —
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I hate writer’s block. But keep it up. Just start writing SOMETHING and usually something will come of it. Writing is not my strong suit which is why I make myself do it. Beautiful photo!
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Thanks for stopping by and commiserating a little, Doris!
Visitors are a lot of what makes it all fun and worthwhile. Guess it’s time to tell myself what I so often tell others: Onward!
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