|
|
Post by fergie on Dec 13, 2004 4:58:12 GMT -5
Having just spent the weekend in London as part of my christmas present from the husband....I now find myself in here, trying to take a peek at HurlT's pressie.
*prays for Christmas to come early*
I've been a good girl, honest ;D
|
|
|
|
Post by hurltomato on Dec 13, 2004 20:24:16 GMT -5
Good girls get the lump of coal, you know that Furg... This really bad girl gets the admin trifecta for "GO FOR IT!!" Thanks BP, Nat and Linney  |
|
|
|
Post by fergie on Dec 14, 2004 4:58:13 GMT -5
Good girls get the lump of coal, you know that Furg... This really bad girl gets the admin trifecta for "GO FOR IT!!" Thanks BP, Nat and Linney *mild panic sets in* HT in Scotland greedy boys and girls get coal......  I'm just a little over excited..... ;D tri·fec·ta ( P ) Pronunciation Key (tr-fkt) n. A system of betting in which the bettor must pick the first three winners in the correct sequence. Also called triple. Is there such a word as a quadfecta? |
|
|
|
Post by Nana on Dec 14, 2004 10:36:56 GMT -5
I found the poetry.com link while re-reading this thread and just for fun decided to take the test. I got a 7, which is not that bad I think, for English is not my native language. When I can find my silly little poem I'll let you know. Btw HT, I did get the one about simile and metaphor wrong. I always think that one is the other. I must think backwards next time, maybe it'll work! LOL I too am waiting for your Christmas story... I've been a baaaaad girl, but I'll wait anyway!  |
|
|
|
Post by venusinscorpio on Dec 14, 2004 15:24:37 GMT -5
 NanaB, 7 is excellant on the test if English is not your first language. BTW, did anyone get an email from poetryworkshop.com about submitting poems for critique? I got one the other day.
|
|
|
|
Post by hurltomato on Dec 20, 2004 17:50:53 GMT -5
Christmas is a time of great sharing between friends and it will soon be a year since I joined this board. You have been incredibly supportive of my efforts to write and the past year has blossomed in that regard. It gives me great pleasure to add to your Wilson holiday enjoyment this week. I hope you are ready for tomorrow and the first of your gifts. There are four in all, ending on Christmas Eve and culminating in my very best wishes to you and your families-
Blessings & Merry Christmas– Your friend HurlT;D
|
|
|
|
Post by bunnypanda on Dec 20, 2004 17:56:59 GMT -5
 *BP speechlessly hugs HurlT*
|
|
|
|
Post by WilsonFreak on Dec 20, 2004 21:24:46 GMT -5
:-*I'm so xcited!! I"m so xcited!! What can it be???!!!!!  |
|
|
|
Post by AlsoAVirgo on Dec 21, 2004 8:59:38 GMT -5
You're the best, HT! Best wishes to you and your family for a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year as well! I'm so excited for your next masterpiece!!  |
|
|
|
Post by hurltomato on Dec 21, 2004 9:05:32 GMT -5
Frisco Christmas & Lemon Venture - Part I [/b] “Here’s your bottled water, sir.” The attractive stewardess smiled with excessive invite as she handed him a small container of spring water and a glass tumbler of ice with a lemon sliver. Damn… Just that small slice of nubbed yellow peel had given him a predictable sexual reaction that obviously had misled the first class cabin attendant. He gave her an abstract smile of thanks and then casually dropped the elementary level flight instruction card into his lap. Pretending an intense and ridiculous study of the mechanics detailing how the metal male buckle fit snugly into the female component did not help his situation and he felt even lower than Pavlov’s salivating dog. sh*t… this was worse than the mental self-flagellation he had put himself through in the past week. Guilt reaction like a rising river, reminded him that it had been less than a week since his encounter with an earnest down-to-earth woman. Guilt reaction that had predominated his thoughts every morning as he scrubbed his clean shaven face with his electric Remington and cleaned the shaver heads in the sink afterward. Like reading tea leaves, he studied the whiskered remains in the porcelain basin and hoped for revelation, absolving his guilt for leaving that Thanksgiving morning. He had left her sleeping- no note, no names, no excuses, no future…and sadly, no change from his past flights from unexpected emotion. Like Lady Macbeth, he had washed the Thanksgiving remnants of his well-shaped beard and conflicted feelings down the sink when he had arrived back at his hotel that morning. Did anyone ever request a second chance to reshape a beard or a man’s emotions? Had he been crazy for letting an unknown woman hold a straight-edge razor to his jugular or had he been a fool to leave? The tenuous question went unanswered as the flight to LA via a San Francisco layover, taxied down the runway. She reclined in her aisle seat and smiled at the pretty attendant that offered beverage refreshment on the flight. She had needed more “emotional” sustenance during the past days, feeling vulnerable and uncertain. Facing facts, there had been no commitments, no trading secrets, no exchanging names or addresses. There had been simple desire and sensuality traded for holiday loneliness during a season that celebrated togetherness and “turkey” of all things. He had not fit the bill the night before; erotica and vodka shots had seemed so out of character. However, his sensitivity and need for connection had called out to her like a lost traveler, too long on the road. He had smiled and mused at her humor, letting her take him home and nurture recovery from his excesses, then allowed shaving & shaping his visage the morning after. The beverage cart returned with the intent of refilling cups and retrieving refuse. As passengers gathered their cups, unexpectedly the cart’s defective metal caster gave way and bent, upsetting the cart equilibrium and tipping the carafe of hot coffee. She felt the heat before she realized the situation and stood to avoid the scalding burn. The hot coffee slid off her black leather skirt, but soaked the seat cushion and steamed a blatant warning from the upholstery. Amid the cart removal and profuse apology, the flight attendants banned together to assist and reassure that the situation had not injured her. Without explanation, the senior male steward took charge and pulled her airline carry-on from the overhead bin and grabbed her leather handbag/tote from under her seat. Moments passed before she realized that he was taking her belongings to the front of the plane. He deposited them in an open first class seat while a female stewardess forcefully escorted her to the forward restrooms to assist with cleaning her clothing. It was some time before she was able to convince airline staff that she had not suffered any damage worthy of a liability suit and was allowed to leave the restroom cubicle. Understanding that the senior steward had explained the circumstances to her new seat partner, she felt a surge of shocked dismay to recognize that her in-flight company during the balance of this red eye flight would be one oddly familiar de-bearded acquaintance. The agitated flight attendant had mumbled something to him about a mishap in coach class and the need to relocate a passenger. While he heard some of the explanation, he had quit listening as the scene unfolded and watched in amazed fascination as flight personnel herded his earnest down-to-earth guilt complex into the lavatory. A random thought snared his attention and chanted… Opportunity knocks, go seek your destiny.[/b] Did destiny include invasion of privacy? Peering into her open leather handbag, he gave airport security silent thanks that the straight-edge razor wasn’t readily accessible for what might prove an impromptu neutering that evening. The gossip rags could wait for that headline as he lowered his tray table for mock protection and ordered two dark lagers for a shared nightcap and peace offering. He met her eyes just as they came to secure her bags, deliver their beverages and informed him that the beer was complimentary. The look she gave him was not nearly as complimentary when she took the open seat and stared straight ahead, not touching her untapped ale. “Thought you were headed back to LA, or is it San Francisco,” she finally commented, glancing sideways at his long-fingered hand wrapped around the brown glass bottle “but then again, destinations seem so trivial in light of the fact that we don’t even know each other’s name. That is, despite the fact that you called the mole on my shoulder, what was it? Baby, Baby oh…Baby! all night long?” “Actually I thought you introduced the mole as, Yes, Yes, oh effen… Yes! But then again, I’m male, I must be wrong.” Smiling his chagrined, yet renewed pleasure at her sexy sarcasm, he took a long moment to breathe relaxation into his gender functions before responding and gazed into the brown beer bottle as if it were Emily Post’s crystal ball of introductory etiquette. “My name…Well, my name’s not Effen, it’s uhh…Adams.” Adams? My apple! Refocusing on the brown bottle with the blue little American colonial gent waving a tankard from the label, she did a slow seethe. That’s no John Quincy you’re drinking there, but two can play at this game… With a pointed look and a nod toward his lager she replied, “You can just call me...uhh. Sam, Mr. Adams!” She watched his amused expression as he realized he had been caught and bested playing word games and she was determined to carry on with this challenging vice of give & take. The tight edge of her irritation had long faded and her initial attraction for him reasserted itself with caution. Regrettably, she also remembered being an abandoned victim of their mutual desire the week before and well-armed, she was ready with her next volley. His soft low chuckle conceded the initial round, but the grin stealing across his face stalled as her eyes softened. God her eyelashes… His thoughts wandered back as he remembered the morning he had left her and how beautiful she had looked entwined with the gold sateen bed sheet. He had lain in her bed that morning and counted her eyelashes, the mindless task giving him a reason for lingering in a soft-foreign mood. The simple act of watching her sleep had unsettled him and the anonymity of the encounter had bothered him beyond the casual every day since. There had been other beautiful women in the past and a hundred reasons for caution, control and conditions. Excuses to leave and well-established criteria to let go…What the hell was he doing now? For THEWILSONS board use only |
|
|
|
Post by Natalie on Dec 21, 2004 9:16:57 GMT -5
HT, I can't wait for the rest! Wow. Wow, wow, wow. I feel as if I'm part of the story. I love the descriptions and how the story is unfolding. Too bad I'm gonna be on a plane the 23rd. I'm sure I'm going to be wondering how the story continues! ;D GREAT job!  ;D |
|
Burnett2
Team Zissou Intern
Simply Irresistible
Posts: 142
|
Post by Burnett2 on Dec 21, 2004 10:56:12 GMT -5
HurlT great job can't wait for more! ;D You're so good with descriptive writing ;D |
|
|
|
Post by AlsoAVirgo on Dec 21, 2004 11:42:55 GMT -5
I'm dying here, HT! I can't wait for the rest! I'm alone in my office right now all entranced in your work. I practically jumped when the phone rang! I was certainly in another world for awhile there!
You've got a great gift. I can't wait to say, "I knew her when . . . "
|
|
|
|
Post by Natalie on Dec 21, 2004 12:13:36 GMT -5
I'm dying here, HT! I can't wait for the rest! I'm alone in my office right now all entranced in your work. I practically jumped when the phone rang! I was certainly in another world for awhile there! Same here! You've got a great gift. I can't wait to say, "I knew her when . . . " Exactly! |
|
|
|
Post by Librarian on Dec 21, 2004 12:39:11 GMT -5
Great Job, HT! I am loving the reference to the long finger around the beer! HT, I can't wait for the rest! Wow. Wow, wow, wow. I feel as if I'm part of the story. I love the descriptions and how the story is unfolding. Too bad I'm gonna be on a plane the 23rd. I'm sure I'm going to be wondering how the story continues! But what are you going to be thinking about on that plane, Natalie? |
|
Good me: 
Righton me: 
