Welcome back to the weekly (more or less) 100 Word writing prompt and challenge.  Last week’s prompt was “City”.  The word city brings to mind a visceral memory from childhood.  I grew up pretty rurally and no one in my family had much love for any city, so my first exposure to a city was on a late night car ride to visit some family friends.

At midnight we passed through a city.  Suddenly, the inside of the car was lit up like daytime.  I plastered my face against the back window and stared in awe at this magical place called “city”.  The whole place was lit up like Christmas.  Here it was, the middle of the night, and people were awake!  I was at that age where I resisted bedtime because I was sure that I was missing on secret parties with cake and ice-cream.  Here was the proof.  This city, in the middle of the night, was one big glittery cake and ice-cream party!

This has nothing to do with 100 Words but I just have to tell you.  I’ve been riding my bike into work.  We have one of the oldest municipally managed bike trails in New England and it’s pure joy to ride on it instead of commuting in a single person moto-pod that closes me off from other people and the world in general.  On my way home this early evening, I was tooling along when I noticed something rather large up ahead.  My first thought was “dog”.  Then my brain put on the brakes, started pulling all the emergency levers and sounding the alarms.  Whatever this was, it was WAYYYY to big to be a dog.  I slowed down as my brain searched the files.  The large black thing with four legs then came into focus and it was a BEAR.  A big ole bear just standing there on the trail, taking up both sides, and staring right at me.  I came to a stop, of course, and stood there a good non-attack distance away and stared back at him.  I started calculating how fast I could get my Iphone out to get a picture, but before I could even process the thought, he trundled off into the trees.

I stood there a few minutes more.  Those trees weren’t very deep with residences all along the bike trail.  I wondered how close he was to the edge and if when I rode by I was going to spook him.  Thoughts of this giant animal coming thrashing out of the trees was making my mouth a little dry.  Finally, after a few minutes of no activity, I cautiously rode on without event.  No bear thrashing through the trees to maul me.  No eyes starting at me from between the branches.  No sign of him whatsoever.  I don’t know where on earth he could’ve gone, but he was gone.

So that was my adventure for the day.  Now on to the 100 Word submissions for the last prompt.  Let’s see, in order of appearance…

Ash wrote about his favorite city, Hong Kong.  Fantastic little piece!

It is a confusion of color and sound and smell, a crush of humanity, a paradoxical confluence of cultural currents. Stepping off the plane the whole mess of it washes over you at once, sickening and overwhelming. It isn’t until you delve into the details that the city invests you with its life. Stall vendors waft exotic spices on invisible tendrils of ester. Flashing neons in a rainbow of colors declare it the most superlative city on earth. Rickshaws and junks, skyscrapers and world commerce, it seamlessly blends the sophistication of Europe with the fecund traditions of China. Hong Kong.

The Night Blogger paints a descriptive and cold image for us with her piece this week.  I think this is often how we feel about cities at first glance.  Maybe even upon several glances.  But it does truly depend on the city.  Night Blogger, you should check out San Francisco sometime.  Beautiful words.

The city: crammed with towering, glittering buildings. Odd shapes—pyramids here; abstract contortions there. Layers of smoke coat the air. To breathe in is a slow death.

Winter brings a relentless cold. The kind of cold which grows like mold upon the bones.

Summer brings blistering humidity. The pollution oppresses, bearing down on its creators.

A white blossom swings lazily in the median. In summer, sweating people hurry past, seeking an air-conditioned haven. In winter, the blossom dies, a stalk standing silently through the snows, only to bloom in the spring.

But this is the city, and no one notices.

So LCeel did something interesting with this challenge.  First he wrote this:

He walked into the cool dark of the corner bar, a refugee from the sapping heat and the Sun.

“What’ll ya have?”

“Bud.”

“Two Fifty”

He closed his eyes and let the cold beer wash down his throat.

“You out lookin’?”

“Yeah. Been poundin’ the pavement for weeks. It’s brutal.”

“Want another?”

“Yeah.”

“Hot out there, huh?”

“Shit ya! ‘Specially when you’re out in it all day. Last few days I’ve been in every store, factory and office building within ten blocks of here. I’m done.”

“Nah, don’t say that. You’ll find somethin’. Just keep lookin’. It’s a big city.”

And then he wrote another 300 words to flesh out the story some more.  Go check it out.  Pretty cool.

Mama Bear (ack! Bear!) sent a little shiver up my spine with this one.

By day it is a crowded jungle of writhing bodies rushing past each, never bothering to stop and notice life as it passes them by.

With the fall of the sun and the arrival of darkness it takes on a new life. The rushed pace of business is replaced with the sounds of revelry as the night folk wander out of their daylight hiding places.

The city is theirs when night falls, theirs to haunt, to own. Do you dare to walk the streets while they watch your every move? Or do you hide in your night dwelling, safely away?

~ July 8, 2008

Penelope Anne Bartotto

I so thought Secret Agent Mama was going somewhere else with this, but that’s the thing about Mishi, she’s full of delightful surprises.

In the city that is littered with people bustling about, you will find her. Her red lips, her stilettos, her designer bag, and her growing belly. She rests her hand on her stomach while a serene smile takes over her porcelain face.

In the town where everyone knows everyone, you will find her. Her pink lips, her flip-flops, her favorite bag, and her growing belly. You will see her hand rest on her stomach while a serene smiles takes over her porcelain face.

It doesn’t matter where you are from; life is lived, the best way we know how.

Wow, just wow Renee.

Beyond the loud crowds is another world. A world where the neighbors sit together, fanning the heavy still air as they laughingly recount the day’s happenings and times past. A smiling stranger offers a bowl of etouffe from her stove as if all were family. Here strains of music can be heard drifting on the air growing until it moves limbs and catches heartstrings and binds every spirit together. Beyond the flashing lights and glittering façade designed to entertain visitors is a beautiful city. Her soul will forever call to those who know her and our souls ache to respond.

Angelgal presents us with a challenge to guess what city (cities?) she writes about in this piece.  Can you guess?

Requirements for the perfect city (in no specific order):

Multiple famous/infamous people lived in/from city and surrounding areas

Excellent inhabitation options in 50-mile radius

Starts with one of the first 5 letters of the alphabet

AFL Conference football team

Multiple concurrent visits to the Super Bowl

Large airport with remarkable architecture

Dazzling natural landmarks to the west

Heart beats quicker at thought of it

Newspaper with a wide circulation

Famous for something food related

Must refer to itself as a “Queen City”

Must have snow—and lots of it!!!

Multiple television stations

Loads of confusing traffic

Family in nearby towns

Adam, the mysterious Adam, conjures up some pretty powerful imagery here.  One of the things I love about the 100 Words challenge is that it can really be done well in such a way that leaves much to the imagination.  I really like how this piece evokes so much and yet leaves miles and miles of interpretation open.

Stepping out of a shaded side street, she merges with the radiant din. The surrounding human buzz presses her from all sides, numbing her unbearable self awareness, and silencing the broken record thought: “What have I done…”

A few moments later she merges completely, becoming invisible – even to herself. All that remains are the walls of neon signs, booming empty rainbow enthusiasm down upon the throngs of adult children below.

Together they drone ahead – a blind, aimless mass. For only in such mindless anonymity can they temporarily calm the wake left behind by a lifetime of forsaken dreams.

JM at Fiction Scribe used the 100 word prompt for some character development.  Another thing I love about this challenge is how you each do something so different!  Fun!

City. City. Filthy, filthy city.

Mr. Talbert, Mr. Frank Talbert, pushed open the door from the psychiatrist’s office with his shoulder. His hands were entirely too busy to push it open, occupied with the antibacterial wet wipes he always kept on his person.

Not that he would have touched it anyway. Filthy doors. Just like the rest of the filthy city.

He stood at the top of the concrete stairs and looked down at the many people and vehicles, each hurrying on along. They looked like bugs. Filthy, disgusting, ever-touching bugs.

The city was just one big concrete bug farm.

The Wandering Author wrote a short Sci-Fi piece.  If you don’t get it, hop over to the blog for an explanation.  Clever.

City

Our voices still as we enter the ancient village. Even crumbling, smothered with new growth, the ruins are impressive. I know the stories, how they choked on their own folly. I wouldn’t wish to live crammed in with countless others, to smother in the reek of endless fires.

Still, they had powers and knowledge I cannot imagine. They reached to the sky, they dreamed, even their failures scarred the earth for generations. I wonder what my ancestors were truly like. I crouch to study the figure the hunters found, tail outstretched for balance, but it is only a hairless monkey.

Ok, so that wraps up last week’s challenge.  I’m too tired now to reach over and grab a book so I’m chating and picking a word I can see right from my pillow.

Treasures

Sunday by midnight, KO?