YES! I think it's time, don't you?
Of COURSE you do.

Here is your chance to WIN the coveted   button.

First place receives pair of BOSNIAN socks
and a copy of one of my books! (I also have a copy of the Beaver Papers lying around if Romance is not your bag)

Here's the deal: Write a story or essay in 55 or fewer words. There ought to be a beginning middle and end, but we aren't that fussy. I'm cold today, and miss warmth. SO if you're looking for a theme to your essay, think "WARMTH" ¹

Deadline: DECEMBER 10!! Just add your entry below this OR if you'd rather, email me at katerothwell@comcast.net

Want to see how it's done?
Here's a previous contest:  http://mkate.bravejournal.com/entry/4314

and another:
http://mkate.bravejournal.com/entry/4980

and a picture of some sox (many of these are gone by now)

¹   Warmth is merely a serving suggestion. If you'd rather write about Christmas or Love or chickens that's fine.

UNRELATED UPDATE: just found http://www.emotioneric.com/   . . . Excellent.

 

Curled up, cat on my lap, down coverlet over me, staring at the fire, a cup of hot chocolate between my hands.

Glancing down at my book, sinking lower into the couch, my eyes blur.

A sudden start. Book on floor, cat gone. I pull my quilt closer and stare at the black, empty fireplace.

Walking home on a cold but bright day the sun warmed my cheeks. I finally made it home. Finally! Suddenly blood starts running faster in my veins and my face lights up.

A cup of hot tea warming my icicle fingers, a pair of Bosnian socks on my feet and I’m all happy. Hmmm.

One Upon a Time in Mexico. . .

My feet settle into the soft sand. I toast the orange ball sinking into the ocean before tipping my fruity drink to my lips. I can still feel the heat of the day now passed, but the lull of waves soothes my sun-scortched skin. I inhale deeply and remind myself why I love Mexico!

Australian Summer.

Golden sand and temperate waters, crystal clarity, toes in sun-bathed sands.

The sun kisses my shoulders, a breeze plays through my hair like the fingers of a lover. Summer in a tropical paradise, warm and inviting like love's embrace.

Cold, howling winds whistle through the trees. Inside, beneath quilted down, warmth spreads in caressing tendrils, erasing the wind, snow, and sleet of northern winter, burning paths along my thighs.

Then I wake, realizing that I fell asleep with a cup of cocoa and it spilled all over my freaking sheets. Second degree burns suck.

I recall the days of past, leaping in the waters of coolness. Splashing with liberty in our pool and laughing with such jocundity. Ah yes, the sun's warmth beamed down upon us glazing on us like roasted turkeys - while we splashing in the gay waters, were changing our skin color like a chameleon only with no camouflage; we would pay no mind to the stinging of our skin. Ah yes, the warmth. How I miss thee. I recall the birds singing - singing joyfully in the morn and the morning's dew that twinkled from the sun beaming down upon it.. and how the flowers smiled in the garden with butterflies and bumble bees dancing to and fro, from one blossom to the next. Yes. Warmth. How I miss thee.

And now the winds blow, the leaves twist, the rain pours, with a hint of a chill that almost reveals it's soon-to-be conversion from ice to snow. There are no longer birds dancing in the sky, just the sounds of geese and others honking to the south for... yes,...warmth. And bumblebees and butterflies have faded into the night, the cool nights that have come upon us so harshly abrupt; and the flowers that were abandoned by them, only to be exposed by the cold nights and they soon would perish; And the pastels and bright colors exit the gardens and instead show the warmer colors of the season that is to come.

But even though the cold winds blow, and nature's friends are absent; and the sun is hidden in the gray skies; the waters no longer dance but become arctic and frigid. But they all will return once again, to frolic and laugh once more; when the sun returns once more next Spring. Ah warmth....

I now cuddle into my cashmere blanket on the sofa resting my feet upon an ottoman while reading a wonderful book by the talented Kate Rothwell. The fire glazes and dances like a paradigm of the sun reflecting it's anger only that it is man-controlled in the fireplace. And around the room in which I sit it warms it like the sun once did with just a ingenuous ray of light t

ingenuous ray of light through the window. At that moment, I look up from the best-selling novel and I realize it's not so bad to be cold, to snuggle up to warmth when warmth came to me so easily. I can reach out to it and create it as well. And then my family enters the room and we laugh, play and talk with each other; reminisce about the past, speak of the future, and suddenly, although my feet under their wool socks still chill from the cool air that blows in from the poorly-insulated windows and doors, I feel the warmth in my heart from the people I love. And suddenly it doesn't matter if it's cold outside or not. What matters most is what's in your heart. There is no greater warmth than that of a happy home. Thank God I'm here.

wait. didn't you say 5,555 words? LMAO woops.

OK thinking it through and must.........try........to......... do.........in........55.........wo.....wo......wor.....wor........words......or ........ leeeeeeeesssssssssssssssss......AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Outside the winds blow and chill the house;
Inside hearts glow and fills the home with warmth.

Warmth
His voice just once here.
Paradigm of Human necessity.
Contact, a thing of fleshy desires, so deeply engraved into the simplest instincts.
How far will one man reach, to feel heat, when sitting in a chill room full of dreams, guilt of failures past made, and goals of something not yet attainable?

he snuggled his portly girth even closer to her warmth....she never resisted him and he was blessed with her faithful sigh...the tendrel of her graying hair smelled like peppermint....and he gently kissed her ear...she was every thing to him... had been for a long time...love you mrs santa he whispered

RW’s parents moved her to rural BC at thirteen, to a mountainside house with no electricity or hot water. She walked miles to school in the snow, uphill both ways, burned wood for heat, washed her hair at the public pool showers.

Thirty years later, she glows whenever the gas furnace kicks on.

The young child sat in front of the fireplace watching the flames dance on the burning logs. At his side his Mother sat at peace with herself and the world. Looking at her son she prayed silently that he someday would be able feel the same warmth sitting with his own child by the fireplace.

“It is a cold night!” the homeless man thought as he stood around the burn barrel with his friends. The sight of a young girl pulling a wagon full of blankets interrupted his thoughts. She approached him and the others and started to hand the blankets to the men. “Merry Christmas To All!” she said.

First Kiss

He smiles and my heart skips. So long I have waited. His luscious mouth descends. Tender, sweet first kiss. I do not need tender. I need....My hands tangle in his thick hair and I tug him close. His tempting full lip between my teeth. My tongue strokes. A low hoarse growl of surprise. And welcome.

Seasonal Fires

The fire continued to devour all in its path. Smoke filled the sky. Sparks jumped and crackled as the waves of relentless heat hit him in the face. Time to take the chopper back up and douse this demon set free. Days later, there’d be nothing but ember and ash where majestic forestry once stood.
--------------------
:o I actually entered another one.

*sheepish* Word's word count above was not correct because of the ellipses. Sorry! So here's a version shortened by one word:

First Kiss

He smiles and my heart skips. So long I have waited. His luscious mouth descends. Tender, sweet first kiss. I don't need tender. I need....My hands tangle in his thick hair and I tug him close. His tempting full lip between my teeth. My tongue strokes. A low hoarse growl of surprise. And welcome.

Flashlight beams dance through the trees. The calling of his name drowns out the murmured prayers.

Please, God, let us find him. Please, God, don't let us find him here because he's too young to be missing this long.

It's so cold.

The firehouse siren wails. Once. Twice.

He is found.

Star Smiling
By Ali Al Saeed

Her broken ugly smile.
Brings her shame and regret.
Hurt and pain.
She hides it.
She sits and she cries.
She sighs.
“A smile to match the stars,” he tells her.
She dreams. She hopes.
Then she sees him. She smiles.
Warm small, tears in her eyes.
Like the stars, she smiles.

EXPOSED
I escape the water pounding down on my naked body and run down the cold hallway, my bare feet leaving evidence of my passage behind me. I wrench open the door behind which warmth must surely lie. Wrapping myself in the hot towel I wish that the dryer was closer to the shower.

Asleep on the couch I am awakened by a soft snore and a weight covering my body.
I reach down and discover my daughter has snuck a "squish" during nap time. I snuggle down and gently stroke her hair. She stirs for a moment and settles into my arms for a one on one cuddle.

It was a three dog night, but there were only two dogs. One was at my feet the other at my back. My man was in his yam suit wrapped around my back, the sheets were pulled around my head, and the rain wipped around outside. I sank myself further down in the bed and sank into oblivion.

“Charlie Brown has nothing on me,” I thought. Not another poor grade on an assignment! Doesn’t anybody get what I am up to? The ceiling didn’t change as I continued to stare at it from my reclined position. She came in, smiled, and continued walking. For one moment I knew what Brad Pitt feels like.

Another sip of coffee; it is the last. Should I make another cup? When will they get up? The clock has been on 6:14 am for 3 hours now. I don’t want to peek, but the temptation is so strong. At 26 I have learned to control the temptation to see what Santa has brought.

Worthwhile Addition

She peeked around her bulging belly to see the numbers on the scale. Five more pounds! In one week? Where was all the weight coming from, and when could she return it? Just then, the child she carried moved, and silly numbers on a scale meant nothing.

Losing Audrey
**************
The phone rang. “Come quickly.”

I held her in my arms. I looked at her sweet face, calmed by morphine. Everything was slowing down. It was time.

“Daddy isn’t here yet. Please hold on.”



“Honey, if you need to go now, it’s OK.”

One arm around my son and one holding her.

She was gone.

"Cold-hearted jerk."

He smirked.

She wrapped her arms around herself, her shoulders hunched. He frowned. He didn't like to see her huddle. Not her.

"Never mind." Brittle as ice, her voice frosted the air. She turned away.

She trembled when he pressed his mouth to her neck. "Warm me, then."

A gentle kiss.

"I'm sorry."

The Long Hard Ride

He slid into bed after his long dusty ride in the cold wind, and heat was radiating from her. He touched her and she shuddered, not because of his icy stroke, but because she needed him.

She turned greeting him with her warm smile and unleashed the passion that was building within her.

“Welcome home.”

The Meeting
What to say to someone I hadn’t seen in years. His car pulls up, he sees me through the glass, a big smile and a wave. He looks so happy. All the old feelings come rushing. He comes near, reaches for me, I feel his breath on my face, he whispers, “show me you love me”

The heat seeps into my bones and warms me. I moan and shift to feel it better. I pull closer, needing it. Wanting it. I open myself to the pleasure. The sensations. God, I love an electric blanket.

The damp fog permeated his body, chilling him to the bone. He hated London. But his goal was in the city.
Bella.
She was his life. The thought of her had kept him alive. Through the pain, through the despair.
Oh God, Bella.
He had to find her. Bella. She would keep him warm.

awww, crapper.
i used to hate you.
i wrote poems about my distain
i hated you.
you threw away my fish earrings.
then years later you said you had found them.i told you i hated you for so many years because of it
you said "i only hid them"

The call came. “No, I’m not there!”

I ran to the car. Driving furiously, the phone rang again.

“She’s gone.”

Stunned, saddened, angry. Why did it happen like this? Why wasn’t I there?

Tears flowing, I drive faster.

I hold her. I miss her. Her sweet face. Her funny noises. My baby girl is gone.

The door open and she entered a dark apartment. Shivering alittle turning on lights and heater, she moved through the small space she called home. A bump and rub at her ankles had her, looking down.
Scooping up the cat she hefted him over her shoulder, cupping his furry rump smiling at his purring welcome.

I sit down at my desk, basket at my feet. Suddenly it comes alive, masses of squriming grey and white fuzz. Slowly, bit by bit, the lumps of fur begin to migrate, sharp, tiny claws making pinpricks in my leg. Soon my lap is full of five fuzzy kittens, waiting to be fed. Sigh, a mother's work is never done.

I steal yet another glimpse of her as she listens—thoughtfully, attentively. I speak to her in my mind, confident and witty and her eyes laugh with genuine joy for she loves me. Then the teacher calls on me. I say, “Huh?”
The whole class laughs and she, too—at me.

Hi there, just testing to see if I can use html.

Of Warmth, Love, And Christmas, But No Chickens

Tonight, after they fell asleep, I wrote my children a letter from Santa. I signed it: “I love you, Santa.” My kids hear me say I love you every day, but Santa? That bearded, magical celebrity? I know when I read it to them they’ll feel that warm rush of love, and so will I.

The Spoiling of a Hero

He reached for the child from his rung on the ladder, with the flames licking his face, causing blisters to form. He couldn’t quite get to the hand of the child screaming for help. One last effort was met with smoke in his eyes, the small boy disappearing into the smoky darkness behind the heat.

I think I’ve forgotten something, but it doesn’t matter as I lay prone on the bed, my baby son on my chest. His warm exhale and soothing heat spread and envelop me in family – so secure, so trusting, so...

Wet.

I look down and behold his naked ass. Now I know I’ve forgotten something.

Magic Wishes

She closed her eyes and wished on the new fallen snow.

Her senses tingled. His breath gently whispered against her cheek. His light caresses inflamed her senses. Her pulse quickened, mimicking the tempo of the chaser lights spiraled around the tree from base to the brilliant Christmas Star. Heaven.

A dream.

She awoke.

He smiled.

KING OF BEASTS
Given the unpredictable nature of the beasts he was shocked to see one sitting by so docilely while the rest of his pride fed. More shocked was he to discover that he could hardly feel his body as it was ripped to pieces and devoured by the lions he had come to photograph.

She was a genuine lady in her time with powder and lipstick still in her beaded purse. I inhaled the familiar scent of "Cotillion". Emotion overcame me. She was young once mind and spirit just her mind could not remember.
She looked at me with momentary recognition. Alzheimer's could not rob me of that moment.

MISSION IMPROBABLE

As the first light of dawn hit the window, he was up. No time to waste, running, heart beating furiously, tripping over the dog. Hurry, hurry! Granddad was on a mission. At last! blessed relief, Oh, the joy, the ecstasy! He had beaten his demon.
The score this week:
Granddad ... 4
Prostate ... 3

Baxter here, If anyone removes Funky's post I will be round and bite yer ass. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED:o

UPON LISTENING TO MASSENET'S MEDITATION FROM THE OPERA, THAIS

The warm tones of his violin enveloped and relaxed her like a fine syrah. The sight of his sinewy, athletic build and his masculine hands caressing the strings and bow excited her. Now she could feel his dark eyes penetrate hers. She applauded softly and murmured shyly, "I'm so happy I married a fine musician!"

The last letter came today. What am I supposed to think? I believed in you. You sent me pictures and let me read the story of your life. You asked for favors and I granted them. How could I know you would die like that and leave me to take all the blame?

ode to coffeenogrumpys fish earrings

sparkling little fishies
ever bright
flashing light
treasured by her nibs
boyfriend told her fibs
hid those sea anemones
while trashing her extremities

the day will come
when full of rum
the secret will be told
no more she'll see
and sad he'll be
too bad you onry sucker

the end

tee hee.. it was my mother.. that "threw" them away!

Warm Welcome

Muffled sounds through walls very wet,
Understanding them less the closer I get.
There’s a light just beyond the hill,
A mother’s sighs become louder still.

Moving faster now and feeling cold,
Leaving a world that will no longer hold.
With one deep breath and a rush of warm,
A brand new baby is born.

I watched The Alamo DVD starring Dennis Quaid so I got that on my mind. here is 1 of 2:

The Alamo
Dawn. The orange-yellow glow of the sun broke the horizon and outlined the line of poised warriors prepared to strike.

Swords drawn and bayonets fixed, their battle cry could be heard for miles.

In an instant it was over. The small band of patriots were outmanned and outgunned. It was a slaughter, not a battle.

And number 2, more along the warmth theme:

Camping fun
The camp fire crackeled at the feet of everyone in the circle providing warmth and security, holding back the chilling fate lurking beyond the perimeter of light.

Bravery in the wolf pack rose as they watched the fire dwindle to embers.

Screams fell on deaf ears as the warmth of blood filled the wolf's mouth.

Making Peace

With betrayal left behind, only amends remained and words could not ease the pain caused. Reaching out, he took a firm hold bringing her close. Heart pounding in anticipation as she presses against his lips, prepared to do his bidding. Lifetimes go by as he takes her in -- squeezing the trigger, relieving the pain.

I'm lost right now in a time unknown to me.
Have I been here before? Do I know you? Something pulls me, I cannot stay. Someting feels like home.
I must go, back to a reality that I am so far beyond.

I loved him so much, but that didn't stop me from wrapping a shovel around the back of his head when he told me he no longer loved me; I felt the warmth of the bonfire as I threw his still twitching corpse onto it to hide my crimes. The cheating b*stard.:(

LMAOOOOOO @ Mark..... This is GOOD STUFF. Kinda has that KATHY BATES / KATHLEEN TURNER spicey mix to it. LOL! xo

Tel: +34 91 444 14 00
Fax: +34 91 447 15 98
email: informacion@greenpeace.es

Y otra en Catalunya
Oficina de Barcelona
Ortigosa, 5 2º 1ª
08003 Barcelona
Tel: +34 93 310 13 00
Fax: +34 93 310 51 18
email: barcelona@greenpeace.es


Teléfono de Atención al Socio
902 100 505
Email: socios@greenpeace.es
Apartado de Correos 1008
Cerdanyola del Vallés
Barcelona
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