Continued2...Girl got arrested for Twerking

Continuation2-Girl got arrested for Twerking 

I walked in cautiously that night.  I told you, remember? Yeah, And then you crept up.  I mean, at what point did you believe you could grab a card and get away with it?  When I got closer I saw 20 people gathered like mice, someone finally turned light on in the place, and the lights only declared the activity at stake to the whole neighborhood.  All of sudden, the bandanna clad twenty-somethin' year olds showed up, kids as young as seven.  Kids rollin' up in their baggie white T-shirts, using them like tents to fill up their shirts with candy, like it was Halloween in August.  

Girl gets Arrest for Twerking-Free write

Girl gets arrested for twerking.

Based on a real story

 

Its bad enough that she was dancing at all.  I suppose.  What do you mean?  I mean well did you see her at all? No, I was too busy stuffing my cart full of toilet paper, meds, and all the expensive items.   I could find.    

15 minute free write

15 minute Free Write

Seven years ago icicles lent themselves to trees, closing schools, imploding vehicles, stranding even snow plows.  The snow fell once again in May 2013, no records, but still too late in the season.

Minnesota shore of Lake Superior, the patrons of Duluth along the three block radius of her home yelled out to their neighbors who still needed to make the effort to work.  “Hell of a snow! Ain’t it?  I know, right?” 

Stepping outside, the one foot of snow stuck to her feet.  If she had the inclination to stop, the snow surely didn't mind.  But she was on a mission, tied her green scarf tighter on her head, stretching it around in a knot, so it freed up the center.  Bent down to tie one loose brown lace on her size five leather boots, and fixed her green puffy jacket, staring at the snow’s reflection as it pierced her eyes.  No time for obstacles, she mumbled, gathering her belongings, setting them against the oak door, a brown satchel, a paper bag lunch, and some loose newspaper to cover her floor mats in her car.  Walking straight into it, her eyes shuttered close, except flashing them open only to squint at whatever snow covered her vehicle.  Her car parked halfway down the block searching for it this time, she hardly knew if going to work would be worth it, but she reflected for a moment on Ms. Piggle Wiggle, a book she had read from childhood, and a character who stressed the importance of looking at a challenge as a way to compete against one self.  The Snow was her obstacle today.  Setting her blue stop watch on her wrist for three minutes.  She said, "Time it. Three, two, one. Go!"  She dashed around the car, throwing heavy piles of snow over her shoulder, passing the frozen water higher and higher on the snow bank.  "Hey, watch it!" "Sorry, Mr Periwinkle."  She caught his eye, and he smiled at her.  "Some one's busy this morning." He exclaimed. Would she allow this non-competitor defeat her best time?  Luckily, Periwinkle had his own agenda squirming off in ten long steps that the girl left for him.  

She checked her stop watch, twenty seconds, she shoveled faster, making the mistake of using her gloved hand to wipe off the snow.  Damn! she stated.  10 seconds left, she galloped four steps before opening her drivers door and landing, thud into the seat.  "Made it!" she exclaimed.

10 minute free write

   

Finally Misty made her way over to the deli's buffet where they were serving pita bread, hummus and various versions of curry. A couple cooks were hurridly serving gyros, they were stuffing the pocket breads at a rapid pace, and stopped momentarily to look over at Misty from underneath their paper, chef hats. The Arabian curls barely made it into their hats and cascaded across their foreheads.

They took her in, smiled and mumbled something in Arabic to the owner, who spoke to them, smiling all the more to Misty's displeasure of not knowing the language. Derrick took two steps closer to Misty, hoping he'd turn away their glances. But it was to no avail, they stared at her animatedly, it was almost like reflecting on a cool dream they had the night before. Once seated, with Misty’s choice gyro in a rectangular square shaped styro foam plate, Misty poked Derrick cordially reminding them of the Arabs and their looks at her, playfully as Derrick cajoled her back, poking her rib cage. “I guess you want to head back” stated Derrick casually after a few moments. To Derrick’s disappointment, she was looking at the wall clock that had a spaghetti sized splatter to the right of it, probably left overs from some hindu kids messing around, a small family with kids sat nearby. “I, myself plan to get a coffee, after I drop you off.”

                 

10 minute free write

    10 minute free write with Derrick at a Coffee shop

I

SOMEHOW- BY CHANCE, Misty convinced Derrick to drop her off downtown. Her last words before leaving him, “I’m glad were friends”. Friends, the word hung in the air like an unreachable cloud. Derrick tried to cool off from this intimate encounter. He knew the perfect place; his favorite coffee shop, down the corner from his home. It also served as his spy hangout, he’d people-watch there, got more ideas for characters in his choreography. He could get a cup of coffee almost anywhere, but most shops would close earlier than he liked. He asked Sheila, the shop’s owner, why he allowed the shop to be opened so late, sometimes closing around two or three in the morning and Sheila told him it brought more people in and with more people meant more money for the shop. Derrick often came in around two in the morning, but when he did, he always noticed it filled with what Derrick called “Granola people”, activists and tree huggers, young students in corduroys hunched over heavy texts, studying late into the night, sometimes fallen asleep over their books. The amount of people that filled this spot was absolutely amazing, they parked there little cars all along the parking lot, flowing into the areas where Burger King and Subway customers normally parked.

Sheila is efficient; she knew how to get things done on time. She ran a tight shop and made sure that people knew it. She ironed everything she wore even her aprons. When she wasn't pouring coffee for customers, she was making sure someone in her coffee shop was. Sheila placed Derrick’s favorite coffee drink in his hands with a hard push and ran off. He noticed her wiping off her forehead, tossing a towel over her shoulder, and putting some business cards in front of the barista's area, making sure they were perfect aligned with the case that held them.  

Two minute free write on The School

Two Minute free write on The School

Inside the Cesar Chavez building, 20 or so teachers could be seen walking briskly to a church.  "Excuse me.  Excuse me. Can you please tell me where I can find the Rec Room?"  "On the fifth floor on your right, you can't miss it, there's a black wool blanket over the door," spoke a teacher without stopping.  "Okay  got it." The teachers started pulling loose clothing over their heads. "Run," said the head of the pack, each of them picked up their pace and a clambor of hoofs was heard on the way to the convent. 

The visiting teacher made her way back to the school.    

10 minute Free Write

 10 minute Free Write

"Okay, Mr. Kelly, investigators have found out that most of the cars were found at a junk yard in  New Ulm. You said that this place looks like a school. The junk yard is located near a highway. You said you could smell the pine weeds and the harsh smell of the pavement."

"Yes, I remember saying that," said Kelly. "When I walked there the first time, I thought for sure I seen a ghost of a child teetering on a see-saw, but it was a hot day I could have been hallucinating; what with the fresh smelling cement." Kelly continued to describe his account.
"I know I should have turned away once I heard a boom inside but the place had a hypnotizing effect on me. It was red and had an organized feel to it, so I stepped inside. I felt at home at that junk yard compared to any other junk yard I had ever been to. It reeked of dirt, dust and grime. It wasn't like most junk yards which were dark and forlorn. No this place was exciting. 
 When I entered, I noticed counter tops that were laid out on the entire front half of the interior. On, one of the countertops closest to the entrance held a sign marked "check out" and behind the center counter tops were customer service representatives, all in black uniforms. And behind one of them sat chirpy girl with black micro braids. I mean, When was the last time you ever seen a girl man handling a junk yard?!" exclaimed Kelly.
 By that time Hendrickson was inside the shop, imagining it with Kelly, walking beside him. “Okay, so it’s an amazing shop, and organized." Interrupted Hendrickson, not seeing the point.
“Yeah, but don’t you see? That’s not the half of it”, continued Kelly. “If you can believe it, this place also had art work. Auto parts made into sculptures shaped like robots. They strode in between the counter tops at their cut off points.
I kept wandering closer to the robot shaped figurines, hoping to identify each part of the human like sculptures.

 

10 minute Free Write

10 minute Free Write

Yasmine's mother wears a big, black burka

and is so religious,
She'll show up
to the mosque

Every day of Ramadaan  

Even if she has to go to every single mosque

in town.

Dropping off her laundry in northeast

to pray

at Dar Faruq

Where the mosque is in renovation

Saw dust shows up on her feet

She walks slowly to the closet sized back room

To pray

Opening a plywood door

careful to not get cut from a wood chip.

On sunday nights, she'll show up

even though

most prayer goers leave excuses

not praying, because their work schedule.

She'll show up to Masjid De Norde

The one with french doors, that open to desolate rooms

Except for a red dramatic carpet.

And an older women whose been sitting there a while

gives Tasbeeh

And says prayers with her silver tinned lunch box

getting cold, waiting for the time

when dawn comes

to open her fast

She'll show up to mosques

with women sectionals

that are so overly crowded and loud

that the women try to speak in soft whispers

but the children over power them

Their will to move and prance about

is eager shame

to parents who wrestle

to sit them down

Pushing their all too mature scarves and telling them

they'll go home soon

to sleep.

Two Minute Free Write

Two minute Free Write
Friday,the girl saw the elevator rising to the top of the floor. Mu-ong, cri-ank, cri-ank. The man saw her before she saw him.  He moved back into the elevator behind the buttons, behind the metallic gold tape that aligned the door frame.  She walked in. 
 "Why, hello! Didn't know anyone else was in here." He looked at her peevishly.  She adjusted her white blouse that hung off her shoulder and stammered her feet. 
 "Oh, my God, Oh my God!"  She uttered frantically and popped a Xanax from a loose compartment in her purse.  The man was beginning to slide further into the elevator trying to blend into its walls.

One minute Free Write

One minute Free Write
Walk,walk
Walk faster, you imbecile
We're on an escalator,
so I can walk slow
walk, walk 
walk, you say
How bout I fall
than you can pay

One Minute Free Write

One minute Free Write
Waiting, waiting waiting
me
Waiting waiting waiting
pee
I gotta go, I've gotta go
Let me in 
I gotta go
Waiting, waiting, waiting please
You drunk a$$ bastard
I gotta pee!

30 sec Free Write

30 sec Free Write
Fall, Fall
I'm falling down.
No your not
You're on the ground
Fall, Fall
You're falling down
No, I'm not, I'm pushing you down.

10 Minute Free Write

10 Minute Free Write
Camp Tanadoona #Milky Way Galaxy #Fat Kid
"Stop it" she said.  Willard poked her with the pine needed the fifth time that day.  Being the short girl at camp made her the likely victim.  "Stop it, stop it" she screamed once again.  If he wasn't so stalky, she'd push the fat kid over, get her brothers to beat em' up.  But as it was, her brothers were too fascinated in the camp to notice her.  Camp Tanadoona was a week long camp away from home.  Which meant that if she didn't find a way to beat him soon, she'd be tortured the whole week by fat Willard and his grubby hands.  How he found a way to keep hold of a pine needle thinner than any food he indulged was beyond Tina. 
 "Don't worry, we'll get him." yelled Alice, who was sitting next to her. She was screaming out loud to one of the camp's theme songs, "Camp. Tanadoona Camp. Tanadoona Camp. Tanadoon Camp."
"How can you say that?" Tina scream back. Alice tempered her voice at the song's second key change and told her, her plan to get back at Willard.
 "You see... every year, the camp counselors meet at a cabin called "Milky Way" .  Funny the way the camp named each of its cabins after the constellations in the galaxy.  Alice and Tina were in "The Big dipper", that's how they met.
 "Go on." said Tina. "Well, you see... "The Milky Way" is where the counselors put on skits and games for the campers." Alice explained.  "Now, we'll just have Willard volunteer for the "Dare You to Laugh" game.  In the game, camp counselors try to come up with ways to get the campers to laugh and if they do, the campers are singled out and forced to play "Truth or Dare". We'll dare him to tell us who he likes.  "Who he likes-?  "Don't worry, he won't say you, and when he mentions another other girl at camp, we'll say 'I dare you to kiss her', and when he can't we'll taunt him, and remind him of this fact the rest of his stay at camp."

Five minute Free write

Five minute Free write on a topic called

Summer School   

The radiators were getting the place cool. "I've got to go to summer school", said Teresa.  "Why?"  "I'm missing a gym credit."  Shona, a Jehovah witness from Ecuador turned towards Teresa.  "You tapped me?"  "Oh, yeah, I was wandering if you finished the notes for this period."  "Um, yeah."  She turned around to give the notebook, and placed it on Teresa's desk.  Teresa couldn't help notice her black hair that stood up on end all over her slender arms.  Shona was pretty. If you didn't think so, you were an idiot.  She was too goody two-shoe though.  She always  passed her notes on time and raised her hand when Mr. Fitzgerald, the health teacher, called on her.  When you talked to her, she was always talking about her Jehovah witness stuff.  How she had a door meeting after school and she made it seem like something special.  Her something special was not at all like what her  friends called em', the door knockers, the preachers.  They had schemes to ignore the Jehovah's, like telling their housekeepers to answer or telling them they were out the door" and could they come back another time?"  But Shona called her ritual, the meetings and when you're only 15, listening to Shona talk about them, seeing her squeeze into tan skirts with her hair fluffed out, the meetings sounded cool, almost romantic.  She said she is engaged.  Engaged at 15!  You don't say!  Teresa looked at her and then turned her head towards Mr. Fitzgerald who said their next assignment would be a diagram on the food pyramid.

One minute Free Write

Free write, connecting to the movie Frozen   
Stealing the show

The woman on stage, the ladybug, the James and the Giant Peach character spoke perfect English.  Her big white teeth made the audience laugh.  How much confidence a fat lady bug could have amongst the four other earth worms.  The worst custume designs ever. The fat wormy heads tipping down and suggesting their top heavy heads could use some work.   Maybe some gigantic cartoon eyes, something that would make them a bit more funny.  

Three minute free write

Three Minute Free Write on a topic called Chasing books

 

What happened to the days I used to chase books?  I am reminded by this from Lisle in the Book Thief .  I used to gather books, meticulously, and collect them.  I'd show up to every gathering with a book in hand, unafraid that no one else showed up or a friend didn't invite me or that I was hungry.  I showed up.  and in Europe I showed up, and in France, and in places I thought I'd go to places beyond my imagination ,catching recipes and hurling them at chefs, at fashion designers and historical places where they ate unbelievable desserts and told stories of unimaginable circumstances. 

where I met people who greeted me in Tibetan and I sat with them in flee infested environments with strange con artists with people who were humanitarians and came to work in that country and took pictures to shock the world with what they found. Mostly governments who didn't pay the people and starved them and told them to memorize books and incarcerated them and took away family members who made me feel like i was the luckiest girl in the world.

One minute writing promt

This is why there will always be stories.   

The recommended mechanic took six hours putting on a router which the mechanic down the street two minutes.

The stylist took one hour to trim the hair like he was hedging bush which the beautician next door did in five.

The culinary chef downstairs at the pakistani restaurant spent four hours on a cow's calf but took one hour at the deli.

 

Three minute free write

 What would happen if we didn't remember.

We'd walk outside in blizzards on a mission to get our favorite candy bar at that familiar convenient store.  And instead we'd forget that we lived in that convalescent home where that convenient store is perched behind a lake, and on our trips there we'd meet near death; crossing the frozen lake.  

We'd go about the same routines looking for our brush in the early morning and the towel and the sink.  But we'd be in Bertha's room and she gets mad when you enter her room, so she chases you out puts a lock on her door so you don't ever came in, and you're now labeled as "the roamer."

We'd roam around until we managed to hit every room and they couldn't hold us down, so we'd end up tripping and falling in Louise's room, because she doesn't like people cleaning her room and we'd end up in two leg casts perched in a small room where no one comes down to visit.

  

derrick story part 5.5

 The knit stockings Derrick picked had the desired effect.  A blond stood among them, her hair and pale face, tight,  which said she was ready to dance.  She did two shuffles and started to step forward.   A blond lifted dancer in front of her and held her underneath her arms, her legs were dragging on the ground as the blond lifted and then her let her drag further to the ground with each beat of the song, lowering her, and raising her, lowing and raising her.  On the final raise, the dancer in front flipped her over the blond's back doing a half cartwheel over her.  The dancer had this twist of sadness of her face as if she had seen death. with a change of the backdrop turning from an uplifting bright pink to a dark and blue green.  
A grandfather clock suddenly clinked ", gong, gong, gong. The dancers were moving together ,stiff as day for a moment and then they came and slid to the floor, all of them in an x shape.  Then strode up with their hands pressed to the floor and slid down, their white painted faces and dark circled eyes, reminded you of a Tim Burton movie, "A night before Christmas."   A dancer emerged walking on stilts in a talk black and white tuxedo.  Walk, walk, walk, stop. His movements made the audience grimace.  The stilter picked up his legs and his cloak behind him hid the dancers, as they emerged from under his tall lifted leg. They walked over to the other dancers who began to wake up like mummies and dance with them, their legs were moving up and down, funky feet style, fast movements exchanging heel drops to the right and left. Their loose swaddling mummie clothes, held in place despite the rapid movements.  One dancer cascading past them taking a piece of their swaddling and turning it, their bodies unraveled and emerging underneath their costumes were punk rock outfits. 

Six minute writing prompt

Six minute writing prompt on a topic called

Her Diet

Her diet was extremely OCD.  She took off all the skin from her chicken, remove each pea from her fried rice.  Noodles with butter and no meat sauce.  Chocolate for days.  Sour cream and onion chips.  Where were the fruits? Where was the protein?  Where were all the things she needs?  On a good day, this same junk foodie chased and investigated the location of her boo.  The one who ran around town with a gang of his friends and a litter of girls.  The one she had loved and would fight for, if she had to.  And fight she did.  She sped down local streets at fifty miles an hour with her best friend next to her.  Her best friend braced herself for every sudden stop.  She had plans to find him and in return rip out the girl’s hair. A cat fight.  She’d like to give him a piece of her mind, but she couldn’t because the minivan served as her patrol car.  That made car chase much more humorous.