WRITERVERSE PROMPT MEMORY x2
Jan. 29th, 2012 07:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
basricwriterverse two prompts for memory
1.Every day on the drive into Nashville on the way to work; cars purposefully pass by it. Didn’t matter winter or summer the windows will be down to allow the sumptuous aroma of cooking bread to fill your nostrils. Even rain wouldn’t stop you from cracking your window just enough to allow the scent of breads baking to fill your automobile.
The Wonder Bread factory sat up on a hill overlooking Murfreesboro Road. From 5 a.m. until after 8 p.m. the scents of bread and cakes permeated the air for miles around. People would forgo the entrance to the interstate a mile back just to catch whiffs so scrumptious saliva would pool in your mouth.
You had to wonder if the people who worked inside the factory still loved the smells by end of their shift or were over-saturated with it. They had little turnover in employees, so I am guessing not.
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2.
She was forever working on those roses. One day it was just a grassy yard and the next she was out digging holes and planting sticks. Once finished there were at least twenty brown dead-looking sticks in the ground.
By mid spring there was an explosion of color as the sticks greened and produced buds then buds into blossoms of every color. Each day she came out with her shears and lopped off the blossoms near full bloom and carried them inside for vases until they dropped their velvety petals.
One special rose she said was the Kennedy Rose was a large, pure white blossom she had planted in the bottom half of a whiskey barrel. It was a beauty and her pride and joy.
Winter came and she cut back the dead cane and pruned those that needed it.
The following spring she was horrified when her Kennedy rose bloomed. Around the edge of each bloom and flowing down into some of its veins was a deep red color. She glared out at the rose garden in the yard her hands on her hips in frustration.
Her husband came out on to the porch and asked what was wrong.
“Some damn honeybee cross-pollenated my Kennedy rose.”
1.Every day on the drive into Nashville on the way to work; cars purposefully pass by it. Didn’t matter winter or summer the windows will be down to allow the sumptuous aroma of cooking bread to fill your nostrils. Even rain wouldn’t stop you from cracking your window just enough to allow the scent of breads baking to fill your automobile.
The Wonder Bread factory sat up on a hill overlooking Murfreesboro Road. From 5 a.m. until after 8 p.m. the scents of bread and cakes permeated the air for miles around. People would forgo the entrance to the interstate a mile back just to catch whiffs so scrumptious saliva would pool in your mouth.
You had to wonder if the people who worked inside the factory still loved the smells by end of their shift or were over-saturated with it. They had little turnover in employees, so I am guessing not.
----------------------------------------------------
2.
She was forever working on those roses. One day it was just a grassy yard and the next she was out digging holes and planting sticks. Once finished there were at least twenty brown dead-looking sticks in the ground.
By mid spring there was an explosion of color as the sticks greened and produced buds then buds into blossoms of every color. Each day she came out with her shears and lopped off the blossoms near full bloom and carried them inside for vases until they dropped their velvety petals.
One special rose she said was the Kennedy Rose was a large, pure white blossom she had planted in the bottom half of a whiskey barrel. It was a beauty and her pride and joy.
Winter came and she cut back the dead cane and pruned those that needed it.
The following spring she was horrified when her Kennedy rose bloomed. Around the edge of each bloom and flowing down into some of its veins was a deep red color. She glared out at the rose garden in the yard her hands on her hips in frustration.
Her husband came out on to the porch and asked what was wrong.
“Some damn honeybee cross-pollenated my Kennedy rose.”
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Date: 2012-01-30 08:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-30 09:09 am (UTC)