Chibera what I've written so far today. I definitely had bigger plans for writing today, but I don't think I'm going to have another moment to write. I guess I'll catch up tomorrow.

in #freewrite5 years ago

For https://steemit.com/freewrite/@mariannewest/weekend-freewrite-11-3-2018-part-1-the-first-sentence

I wasn't sure how weaving in three specific freewrite prompts that are a little less open-ended than usual weekday prompts would work, but I was determined to find out, because I've never not done the full weekend freewrite. But I guess we'll still never know. I wrote every instant that I could think today, but it just never amounted to enough, you know?

Here's what I did get. I'm Falling BEHIND.

"Come on people! Look alive! Didn't any of you do what I asked of you last night?"
Janice stared at the bins of chopped lettuce, tomatoes, grated cheese... and so on and so on.
Philip had definitely taken his "promotion" to assistant manager too far. There was no incentive to being more precise of a sous chef slash cashier at a build-your-own carbohydrate platter. She'd started when she was 15. Dad didn't want her to get a pointless job, but he also didn't want to buy her a Nintendo 360, so... she'd rebelled by getting a job here, right as the Subway that had been here close and was replaced by a Chipotle. Of course, that wasn't Highway 41 exit 124's true calling. No. It had finally discovered that rice bowls- in this working class suburb, hold the urb,- was what it wanted to be all along.

Philip went to the community college. Janice didn't think it was BAD to go to the community college. Who did she think she was, anyways, judging people for the choices they made. Ugh, she was judging him. She felt bad about being judgey at least. that's my worst quality she thought. I'm always judging people based on what I think I'd do in their situation. UGH And then she judged herself for thinking in such cliches. The point wasn't that Philip went to community college and seemed excited by a promotion to Assistant Manager of a fast food joint. The point wasn't even that minimum wage retail work was somehow less than worthy. In fact, that was the opposite of the point. At 19, Philip could be excited about whatever life he sees ahead of himself, and change his mind the next day, that's the freedom of 19, you're not as set in your ways yet. No, what the point was, was, well, that it was a minimum wage job, and he was trying to get them all to exceed expectations. She wasn't going to practice at home. It's not JUST that there was no financial incentive, though that would at least have made it plausible. It was that there was no incentive whatsoever. She didn't care if this place had a faster turnover rate. There was no part of her self-identity that... OH.

That made it all make sense. Philip had decided to make something about this situation a part of his self-identity. On the sad end of the spectrum, he had decided to make Rice-ist (which was the ill-conceived name of this venture) a part of his self-identity. On the less sad end of the self-identity spectrum, perhaps he had simply decided that he was the kind of person that other people listened to and respected. That was a fine thing to have in your self-identity, she thought. And there she was again, judging. Well, no worries. Judging silently was a part of her self-identity, and if it gave her insight and motivation, so be it. She'd analyze it's overall impact on her well-being some other day.

"Sorry, Philip! I'll-"


Jan walked through the bustling city. Every man was invisible to her. Every woman was only visible for long enough for her to judge the woman's well-being. Every child... well, every child seemed to be bursting with possibility. She didn't SEE, but she saw flowers erupting from the stems of hair on their heads and brilliant rainbows echoing the impressions they made on the world. When they ran, it was as if a dozen more ran along beside each one, laughing gaily at their pace, and painting them with their ideas.

Jan shook her head twice. She was filled with too much joy, she thought. She wasn't going to see danger if it came, or even be able to recognize which children were in need and which were able to help other children. Her brain felt foggy, euphoric, and

Janice stood in the middle of a dirt road. Around her, dirty children stopped their playing and stared at her, suddenly, as if she had appeared out of nowhere. As far as Janice was concerned she had appeared out of nowhere. A girl, maybe 5 years old, with short hair, maybe it was a boy, no, definitely a girl, no, who knew, it didn't matter, she-
A child that had short hair and was bolder than the others walked up to Janice. She stopped and stared at something on Janice's arm, then continued forward, but more slowly, her bright bold steps becoming short, measured steps. She stopped right next to Janice and reached an arm out, touching Janice's leg, then quickly snatched it away as if it had burned her.

That was when Janice realized she was no longer wearing a Rice-ist polo-necked tee shirt and black slacks. Instead, her legs were covered in images that were neither tattoo, nor were

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Darn, thanks a lot for leaving me hanging. LOL! I can't wait to find out what those images were on Janice's legs.
Resident cat is your #NovMadFan. : )

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#NovMadFan Bruni thinks it's rolling nicely. You may come up short on your word count today, but the quality is there. You'll catch up on your next post. 🤞

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