writing prompt

I am dancing as fast as I can.

/ wvfurandroot / Leave a comment
Photo by Ahmad Odeh on Unsplash

Wayne Dyer said, “When you dance, your purpose is not to get to a certain place on the floor. It’s to enjoy each step along the way.

I’m dancing as fast as I can.  The tempo may kill me. My feet lift and fall, lift and fall, heel, toe, do si do, step two three and twirl. 

I’m dancing as fast as I can, don’t ask me to juggle.  Now is not the time.  Dip, sway, do the hustle, all fifty-seven steps.  I can’t stop, the music still plays and plays and plays…like an organ grinder with a monkey I dance.

Perhaps I should seek coins from those watching.

I’m dancing as fast as I can, skirt belling and swirling and tangling between my legs.  I stumble now and again, but I’m dancing as fast as I can.

No time for chores, for downtime, for respite, I am dancing as fast as I can,  The cha cha, the foxtrot, a stately waltz all without a partner. Alone.

Nietzche said, “And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.

I can hear the music.  Can they?  Am I insane?

Continue reading →

The Orient Express in 2025

/ wvfurandroot / Leave a comment

I want to ride the Orient Express in 2025.  They are refurbishing seventeen original cars– lush and extravagant – with all the glamor of rail travel of old.  Formal dining, a club car, suites, a trip fit for royalty.  I want to clatter through Budapest and Venice, London and Paris.  I want to dress for dinner.  I want to fall asleep to the rhythm of the car swaying as it makes it way through the dark.  I want to wear an evening gown with a dramatic white silk stole and a beaded purse.

I imagine being pampered and shutting out the real world.  Going back in time to elegance and refinement.  Shhhhh…. I know the good old days weren’t so good… but there were some things that were.  Never mind they were only available for the wealthy and only will be again in 2025.  I can dream.

I would want to find vintage luggage for this trip.  A train case.  A hat box.  Yes, I would wear a hat and hosiery and gloves.  Eating cucumber sandwiches with a full English tea.

I would wear bright red lipstick and the hosiery would have seams up the back.  My powder compact would be gold and my hairbrush an ornate silver with boars’ bristles.

Continue reading →

Back in my day: a rant in which Connie wraps her shawl tightly around her shoulders and expounds on the good ol’ days

/ wvfurandroot / 5 Comments

Hoo Boy!  I’m getting old.  I’m losing hope for humanity in a number of respects, but one that just drives me up the wall and I can’t quite articulate why is the current refusal to dress up for anything.  Does that make me shallow?  Maybe. 

But in my day, we brought jeans to the forefront, but we didn’t wear them everywhere.  It just wasn’t done.  And there was a period of time when one was expected to iron their jeans so they had sharp creases down the front and back. 

Clubs and discos often, usually, had a dress code:  no jeans.  We didn’t wear jeans to church.  We certainly didn’t wear them to work.  My first demonstration was for the right to wear jeans to school.  Yes.  To school 

And when we did start wearing them to clubs and restaurants, we did so with heels, full makeup and the advent of the very expensive, very trendy Designer Jeans. 

And now?  Now, I can’t believe what people leave their houses wearing – me included.   

Continue reading →

I love…

/ wvfurandroot / 1 Comment

I love puppies.  I call all dogs, regardless of their age, puppies, but in this instance, I am talking about newborn puppies.  I love their glossy fur, round bellies, and milk smell.  I love the little noises they make when they suckle.  I positively chortle with delight when they try to walk or jockey for position to reach one of mama’s nipples.

The Creator was in a good mood the day puppies were made.

I love coffee first thing in the morning.  Fresh and piping hot.  I wrap my hands around the mug and hold it like it is the Holy Grail leading me to redemption.  I love the aroma and will breathe it in with the steam.  Once in a while, I will pour heavy cream into it until it is the color of dark caramel.  The richness of the cream coating my tongue.

Morning coffee is my daily ritual – my must for starting the day.

I love the beach in summertime.  I have a low chair that allows me to dig my feet into the sand as I stretch out, my mug of coffee with me in the morning, and a ridiculous umbrella drink in my right hand in the afternoon.  I sit there and I watch people and I watch the ocean and I meditate on the sand.  I do not read.  I do not write.  I do not think.  I just sit and let negative ions from the crashing surf pour over me until my skin begins to redden -the signal that I need to get out of the sun. 

Continue reading →