Voice of a Spanish Dancer

All posts tagged Voice of a Spanish Dancer

MY PRECIOUS

Published October 6, 2017 by rochellewisoff

An unusual week for me. A second story came to mind and I felt compelled to share it. Thank you for your indulgence. 😉 

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Genre: Fantasy

Word Count: ONE HUNDRED (Title doesn’t count)

MY PRECIOUS

Waves lapped against the boat’s hull. Moonlight made the water sparkle. Thoughts and ideas flipped inside the author’s head like Spanish dancers.

She opened her laptop and, for a moment, stared at the blank screen. With relish, she typed sentence upon sentence, her excitement mounting. Her fingers seemed to take on a mind of their own, tapping across the keyboard.

She grinned. “Too good to stop here.”

Before she knew it, 100 words grew to 200. Not one of them could be spared.

A gossamer-winged faerie settled on the writer’s shoulder and whispered, “Way too good to meet the challenge, eh?”

 

In case you wondered about the Spanish Dancers:

 

 

TREADING WATER

Published September 4, 2017 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Poisson-Blanc, Quebec, Canada.

Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

This week Karen posted the prompt early. And still I’m late. But that depends on your definition of late. 😉 On the other hand, the timing just might be deliberate.  And…while my prompt is from Poisson-Blanc, my story veers far afield and very much about the water. Thanks as always to Karen Rawson and J Hardy Carroll for facilitating this prompt. Fun stuff. Love the extra words and a different challenge. 

Genre: Historical Faction

Word Count: 150

TREADING WATER

            “It’s okay, sweetheart.” Mary knelt beside her dripping daughter. “There’ll be other swim meets.”

            “But I told everybody I was going to win and I came in last.”

            “It’s only your first race.” Richard swept the child into his arms. “You’re only six years old, baby. Someday you’ll have a mantel full of trophies.”

            “Really, Daddy?”

            “Or my name isn’t Dick Chadwick.”

            Five years later, Florence Chadwick won the silver cup in a race across San Diego Bay, the first of many awards.

          In the 1950’s she set her goggled sights on the English Channel, ultimately swimming it four times in both directions.

          On September 4, 1953, she beat the women’s and men’s records, swimming from Dover to Wissant in 14 hours and 42 minutes.

          On that same Friday, across the pond, in Kansas City, Missouri, Bob and Evalyne Wisoff greeted their own little 6 lb. white fish, Rochelle Elise.

In my happy place.

 

Florence Chadwick

WATER BABY

Published July 24, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman takes us to the Great Barrier Reef in Australia.

Feel free to swim around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

Many thanks to K Rawson and J Hardy Carroll for hosting this challenge every week. Facilitating a weekly commitment that often requires more effort than meets the eye. I doff my swim cap to you, Karen and Josh. 

Great Barrier Reef

While the photo is from the Pegman prompt, I confess, I swam far afield. As often happens, the research trail leads where I least expect. The ideas came to me while swimming. Like the protagonist in my story, I’m a water baby. I considered what my goggles allow me to clearly see, such as the watery ceiling when I flip turn. So I considered the history of swim goggles and ended up with the following story. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

WATER BABY

            Anna helped her daughter take off her wet clothes. “Gertie, my little pollywog, whatever am I to do with you?”

            The child shivered. “I wanted to swim and I couldn’t find the ocean.”

            Anna bit her lip and wrapped a warm towel around her. “A horse trough is no substitute for the sea, liebling.”  

***

            Anna Ederle’s heart swelled as tickertape floated over her twenty-year-old daughter who waved to adoring fans lining Manhattan’s streets shouting, “Trudy! Trudy!”

            Slathered with lanolin and olive oil, Gertrude had conquered the English Channel in 14 hours and 31 minutes, beating records previously set by men.

            The press sang her praises. President Coolidge even invited her to the White House.

            Yet, she’d dodge the accolades in favor of a long swim. Anna grinned, remembering Gertie’s words when her brother pulled her from the horse trough.

            “When I’m in the water, I’m not in this world.”

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