This blog is for all who desire to create with words and images.
You are encouraged to participate in any way that is meaningful to you.

All prompts beneath the photos are only suggestions.
You are free to use the photo to be inspired to write any way you desire.
There is no deadline on posting,
you may offer your writing to any prompt anytime.
Write and you are a writer.

Monday, September 28, 2009

At the Bar

Art by Stephanie Taylor
For more of her art and creativity visit -
Suggest prompt...
Use this art to inspire your writing today.
Imagine a scene at a crowded bar and spin that into a story.


morganna said...

It's the same old scene. Women giggling around the tables, men holding themselves aloof, looking serious. Here and there, a man approaches a woman, usually on her own, sometimes with other women. "Can I buy you a drink, sweetheart?" Usually she says no, and he's off to the next mark. Sometimes she accepts, and then they huddle together, leaning into each other. And once, she accepted, only to throw the drink in his face. It stung. I know, it was my face that took it.

I thought it was something I said, but as I groped my way to the restroom in the back, I looked back and a real big guy was sitting down at her table. I guess he was the boyfriend.

I don't even know why I bother, but I can't sit around home every night. I suppose I should go somewhere I actually have a chance of finding a real relationship, but I can't replace Janey. I just don't want to be by myself every night.

"Is this chair free?" I looked up at the soft voice. I saw a little tiny woman with a delicate face and masses of soft brown hair.

"Ah, yyyyess it's free," I said, stuttering like I was fourteen again.

"Oh good." She smiled and sat down, drink in hand. "I'm Annie."

"Nice to meet you, Annie. I'm Jim."

She started telling me about herself. Then I found myself telling her about Janey. I haven't said her name since she died a year ago. We sat and talked until last call, then exchanged phone numbers.

It's the next day, and I'm about to call her. I have butterflies in my stomach. Maybe there's hope for me after all.

glnroz said...

She waltzed across the dance floor
A honky tonk three quarter rhyme.
I got lost in her smile,
At least a thousand times.

(maybe someday i will finish that old song)

christine said...

Aren't eyes supposed to meet across a crowded room? Isn't that how it's supposed to be in all the best love stories?

I know it will never be that way for me. I don't know why I'm here. The buzz of a hundred conversations batters my ears, I can't even lipread to help me hear.

I pick up George's harness, and stand. A path clears before us, blind man walking.

Kristin Dombrowski said...

@glnroz-- I love the short and sweet verse! Very awesome!

Francis Bell said...

WOW-Great blogsite!!!!!!!!!!!!! I really enjoyed the pictures! Thank you for brightening my day- Francis

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