Thanks Ann! You just gave me my idea for the Nanowrimo.
For the past two weeks, my repetitious contact with the writer’s block wall.
Within minutes of reading your prompt, I had my idea, my characters, my story, and a quick outline for the plot.
You are my Prose Angel, my Muse, and my deliverance from the depths of hollow emptiness of scattered connections!
My head made repetitious contact……
I am so excited I can’t type or see straight!
Pingback: Inspiration Can Creep Up At Any Time! « Darksculptures Thinks and Writes
“Your Honor, Do I have to answer that question?”
“Yes, Mr. Dyer, you have to answer. Keep in mind that you are under oath.”
“Ok, this is the best that I can remember. It all kinda blurs together, but I’ll try. It was a stormy fall evening. The rain was driven by a North wind. I had my coat collar pulled up to keep the rain from running down my back, that’s why I didn’t see him come up behind me.
“He shoved me, I guess he wanted to knock me down, but I caught myself on a lamp post. I spun around and he stood there pointing at me, rain was dripping off his finger, and falling into a puddle that he was standing in. In his other hand was a rag doll, my daughter’s doll. I remember feeling the blood rise in my neck and my ear’s turn hot. Before I could process all that he started yelling at me. I can’t still hear him plainly, ‘See how easy it is to get to her, I can get to her at any time, man. Next time I won’t play house, next time I’ll be her worst nightmare.’ That’s when I jumped on him. I knocked him down in that big puddle and started beating on him. I wanted him dead. The next thing I knew the cops were pulling me off of him. Officer Patterson cuffed me and put me in the squad car. I looked out at him lying of the ground, his nose was bent over to the side, one ear was half gone, and his face was all bloody. I felt something in my shoe and picked out one of his teeth. I looked at the officers working on him and they rolled him on his side. They pulled open his mouth and more of his teeth fell out. Later they told me that he choked on more of his teeth.”
“Objection your honor, hearsay that is not in evidence.”
“Overruled, the defendant will continue.”
“As I was saying your honor, they said he choked on his teeth. I honestly don’t remember beating on him that long. In fact, my fists weren’t cut up except for a couple of bruised and skinned knuckles. Maybe the good Officers can shed light on the subject, I don’t remember much after seeing my daughter’s doll. I guess that’s all I know.”
The jury took three hours to deliver their verdict. Not guilty, of manslaughter. Guilty of assault with a sentence of 12 hours. Jeb Dyer turned and looked at Julie, his precious five year old daughter sitting silently beside her mother, he walked over and picked her up and held her tight. From that day forward, Julie never worried, she knew she was safe in her father’s arms.
Great job, Walk! Concise and gripping and incredibly short, just the way the editors like them. Now tell me again why you don’t regularly submit things for publication???
Wow! It sure didn’t take you long to come up with that gripping tale.
I detect or suspect you had some pent up anger that triggered that particular story. What a brilliant way to expel it.
Wow! You gave me goosebumps. What a great story. This is powerful stuff you have written for us here.
Now that’s a mouthful, Anne. I pray that those who accept your challenge won’t find they’ve bitten off more than they can chew.
Very funny, Shaddy.
You crack me up.
I only have an idea nibbling away at me. I think I will chew on it overnight.
Hmmmm…. My teeth seem to be in a glass on the nightstand right now.
“Stand firm men, don’t fire until you see the whites of their teeth….” George Utah in the battle of Bull Walk
You’d think I’d jump at the chance to write about teeth considering I work in a dental office. On the contrary, I’m balking at focusing my free time on that particular subject.
When I think of teeth, I think of the patients we treat. Unfortunately, many people take their teeth for granted until pain grabs their attention. Then they scramble around for a dentist who’s supposed to drop everything and fix their problem immediately.
Our patient number has reached the point where we no longer accept new patients who only request emergency care when they’re in pain, often don’t pay for it and obviously don’t maintain their teeth in between toothaches.
The dentist I work for is one of very few in Beloit who accept patients with Medical Assistance. Due to the lack of adequate reimbursement from the state for services provided to our patients with MA, we no longer accept new patients with MA.
Dr. Onderak is a Christian and started out trying to do the “right” thing by seeing patients who didn’t have regular insurance and couldn’t afford dental care.
When we treat a patient on MA who needs a single surface resin filling, we submit a claim for our fee of $120. Medical Assistance sends us a check for $40. Is that pitiful or what!
Often, these patients break appointments and are reluctant to pay a meager copay fee of $3 for a filling.
Although I enjoy my job for the most part, I look forward to retiring and leaving these constant reminders of this unfairness behind me.
Some families need and deserve help but many take advantage of the system. They pull into the parking lots with expensive vehicles, cell phones, tattoos and talk about their recent trips. We shake our heads as we continue earning our way and wondering why.
Sheesh. I started out saying I didn’t want to talk about teeth and look what happened. When I hear that word, my mind takes me outside of the mouth to other issues related to teeth. Pardon me for complaining. Fortunately, that’s all I have to say about that.
My husband and I both worked for municipal government in separate cities. We both understand what you’re saying. My husband worked in a poor city and saw exactly what you’re talking about – families who work hard in desperate need of assistance to give their kids a good life. He also saw many people who took advantage of others. The janitor also had a landscaping business that he ran nights and weekends. Several of the office staff, who earned several times his salary, hired him to do work for them and then never paid him or paid him incredibly slowly and practically made him beg for his money. So unfair.
I worked in an upper middle class area and people were just as bad. They would complain about paying a few dollars for basic services while they squandered more than the equivalent of my annual salary on new cars for their teenaged children.
I was relieved to be able to walk away from the stress and conflict. You will enjoy your retirement and I hope it comes soon.
I appreciate your understanding and the time you took to share your similar experiences.
It’s so frustrating. The state keeps giving out MA cards but the number of dentists who will see patients with MA cards is near zero. I get more and more calls from MA card holders everyday and I have to tell them we aren’t accepting new patients who have the state medical assistance card. It’s hard to turn some of them away. I don’t want to let it bother me but it does anyway. The system is pitiful.
(I hope Ann gives us a new prompt soon!! Until she does, I’ll try to stop ranting and raving.)
I spent five years of my professional career managing for a dental complex. We had an Endodontist, Prostodontist, Orthodontist and two general dentist all residing and sharing space in the practice. If we ever get together for that beer/margarita we will have to compare war stories.
I am not sure what was worse, the Medicaid billing, the Dentists’ wives absorbing all of the free samples from the pharmaceutical reps, or the office affairs between doctors and assistants.
Getting folks to write anything after my submission yesterday is like pulling teeth.
Come on, Gully. Put your dentures in and say a few words.
(Well, when one’s teeth are on edge, one writes things like this.)
Something’s beeping ‘round my desk,
but what it is I cannot tell.
It’s not the printer or the FAX,
neither phone, nor front door bell,
The camera button’s turned to “off,”
the lap top lies in blackest sleep,
calculator screen is dark,
and from my cell there’s not a peep.
The smoke alarm is quite content.
Its little light shines brightest green.
No message saying, “You’ve got mail.”
(I start to mutter words obscene.)
I worry now that Pablo parrot
(he whose talking does excel),
will memorize it and become
the Green Amazon from hell.
Infernal beeping gets to me.
I worry that I will not sleep,
because that noise is so entrenched
way down in my brain so deep.
I gnash my teeth, look everywhere,
But cannot find the evil source
Of noise that’s driving me insane,
(My swearing now has got me hoarse).
This reminds me of a poem
I once read so long ago,
when Russia launched its first Sputnik
and people watched its passing glow:
“Twinkle, twinkle, little Sputnik,
(forgot this line, my mem’ry’s trick).
How the hell can people sleep,
when all night long go “beep, beep, beep.”
–by Gullible (who should be doing other things right now)
Oct. 11, 2009
If you continue to gnash your teeth, I recommend you see your dentist. A nightguard will prevent you from grinding your pearly whites down to the gumline.
I’m beginning to grind mine too. Too much stress, I reckon.
🙂 or perhaps 😦
The meaning of al dente alluded me, one more wretched result of becoming “long in the tooth.”
My curiosity prompted me to google–al dente so now I’m reminded that it’s a pasta thing.
A person whose teeth outshine the rest of his face may be referred to as being “all teeth” but not “al dente” even though dentition is a dental term.
Oh, never mind. Now I’m rambling into the realms of nonsense and who needs that?
My husband had that deer in the headlights look when I ran through the house yelling…Al Dente! To The Tooth!
Sometimes I forget that I am the only one that hears the rest of the conversation that is going on inside my head. LOL
darksculptures: It’s fun being crazy, isn’t it! My husband is laughing most of the time due to my creative (?) outbursts.
I decorated a wreath
with thirty two teeth.
Folks paused to stare,
But so what! Do I care?
Very creative, Shaddy!
You’re oh-so-very kind and generous, Barbara.
You’ve got me grinning like a scraggly toothed Halloween pumpkin. 🙂
I can smell the rich scent
Of a candle burning
Against the inner flesh
Of a hollowed out pumpkin.
I’m pressed to visit
A roadside stand
To select a plump orange orb
And carve a smile
Into its smoothest side.
Now I must decide
How many incisors,
And molars to create
For my guest’s grin.
I doubt I’ll have time
To brush his teeth
While he’s with me
So I reckon he’ll glow
From a mouth
Void of choppers.
I don’t think he’ll mind.
This is my one and only attempt at poetry… of some sort. When you’re all cringing, remember I warned you.
we must bid
by a Friar
I didn’t cringe or grit my teeth,
Most certainly not!
I see you as another poet
That’s my belief!
Just thought I’d let you know that one of my pieces will be at the Elder Storytelling Place tomorrow, Friday.
Way to go, Gully Gal.
Which piece? Have I read it?
Yeah, it was at my blog recently. About a weird dream I had.
Wait. All my dreams are weird.
And why wouldn’t they be? Dreams are our subconscious mind trying to make sense of our daily lives.
I’ve yet to have a dream I can relate to another person in a coherent way.
The hardened detective’s stomach churned, vile rising in his throat. After thirty long years, O’Malley had thought he had seen it all. Now this, another scene to add to the night sweats that even a fifth of Johnny Walker couldn’t keep away.
The teeth marks were over her entire body, only her face and neck were spared. CSI gave the preliminary cause of death as, you guessed it, a bite. O’Malley had to chuckle to himself, even his none scientific, medically challenged mind told him that.
What bothered him was the teeth that was in the jar beside the victim. As the officers moved around the old apartment, the floor would bounce causing the teeth to look as if they were chomping on the fluid that they soaked in, that gave O’Malley the willies.
CSI and his partner Sambonie, all figured that those teeth were the murder weapon, that somehow someone used them to torture and kill this poor girl. O’Malley looked at the jar and the teeth and decided that it wasn’t the murder weapon, the patterns didn’t quite match, a fact that CSI would confirm. He’d put it in his notes to show that he suspected it first. No, he felt the murder weapon was still in someone’s mouth, and they would be used to kill again, after all, teeth in the wrong mouth is a dangerous thing. He had to get back to the station and put all this evidence together, but he had to make a stop first, he hadn’t had his Dunkin’ Donut fix yet today.
How could he have an appetite to sink his teeth into Dunkin’ donuts after viewing the body that had been munched on?
Wacky and Wonderful Walk Writes again.
Shaddy has a riddle for you regarding teeth.
What has seventy-five teeth that don’t chew, bite or contribute to a pretty smile?
A gear (75 tooth gear)…….
Although all could chew up whatever got caught in them…yeeeeeouch!!!!
Chief Crime Scene Inspector Gary Garrity ripped off the purple nitrile examining gloves with a snap, then tossed them in the back of the CSI van.
“Finish up here, Sam. Okay?” he said to his new assistant.
“Right on,” answered Sambonie. Name’s Sambonie, he said to himself. Not Sam. It’s Sambonie, as if you’d ever care, Know-It- All. But, you’ll find out. Oh, will you ever find out. ‘Bout the time they bounce you outta here on your ass, you’ll know my name, all right.
Looking up at Inspector O’Malley, Sambonie smiled and said, “Bit all to crap, huh? Wonder why he left the face and neck alone?”
“Hard to say,” answered O’Malley. “Never seen anything like this before. I mean, lots of animal bites. One or two bites on a rape vic, but never anyone bit to death by human teeth. Not even Ted Bundy bit anyone this much.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Sambonie as he continued packing up all the equipment. “Dude got lucky. Bit into an artery and busted it open. Chick exsanguinated in a New York minute.” He leaned over the corpse and zipped up the thick black body bag. He turned towards the attendants waiting beside the ambulance. “Ready for the meat wagon, guys.”
O’Malley looked at Sambonie. “Little respect for the vic, there, Sam. Huh? Wouldn’t hurt you none.”
Sambonie gritted his teeth. “It’s ‘Sambonie,’ detective. Not ‘Sam.’ ‘Sambonie.’”
“’Sambonie,’ huh? Rhymes with ‘Zambonie.” Yer dad work in a hockey rink?” said O’Malley.
“So what if he did? Nothing’ wrong with that, is there?”
“Lighten up, kid. Just pullin’ yer leg.”
Sambonie grabbed the CSI kit and headed for his car. Jerk, he thought. Big ol’ smart ass detective. Thinks he’s hot stuff. Jerk. He’ll know my name some day, too.
He set the CSI kit down in the hatchback, pulled the plastic bag holding the dentures out of the kit and set it in the evidence tray. He looked around to see if anyone was watching, then reached into the jack compartment on the sidewall, and took out another set of dentures. He rinsed them off with bottled water, and exchanged them for the ones in his mouth.
Laughing to himself, Sambonie thought they’ll remember his name soon enough. Just wait till get a taste of the ol’ ivories themselves. Hah! Talk about ticklin’ the ivories!
You forgot to answer my riddle.
Way to go Gully!
On the subject of teeth, I recall an incident that occurred when my brothers and I were growing up. One of my younger brothers, I don’t remember which one, had a loose front tooth. He went to my dad. My dad said, “Here, I’ll take it out for you.”
Dad reached in Carl or John’s mouth, jerked and handed his son the extracted tooth. Dad’s fingers were much bigger than my brother’s upper central incisors.
Oops. Dad jerked out the wrong tooth.
From then on, no one went near Dad for tooth removal. Mom took over and fared much better. Several of my cousins would go to her when they had a loose tooth. Mom always picked out the right one for them to put under their pillow for the tooth fairy.
Poor Dad, he meant well.
O’Malley stared at his creme filled bear claw as he chewed his last bite. Something bothered him about the crime scene, something besides the body. Why was the chompers left behind? Why was the face and neck spared? Nothing seemed to add up, it’s as if someone was trying to get the investigation headed in a certain direction. He picked up the phone and ordered copies of all the crime scene pictures. He knew something was there, something hiddened in all the chaos of finding evidence.
And what was up with Sam? Why was he so sensitive about being called Sam? Why would he want to be called by Sambonie, and who would name a kid that? O’Malley chucked under his breath at that thought, Sambonie Macaroni. His parents must of been with the circus.
The phone rang, jarring O’Malley back to the real world, “O’Malley here.” What he heard made the blood drain from his face, another body biten to death had been found. It wasn’t just any victim, it was the Mayor himself.
Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:
You are commenting using your WordPress.com account.
( Log Out /
You are commenting using your Google account.
( Log Out /
You are commenting using your Twitter account.
( Log Out /
You are commenting using your Facebook account.
( Log Out /
Connecting to %s
Notify me of new comments via email.
Notify me of new posts via email.
by Ann Linquist
Available in paperback or on Kindle