The Bettermost Drabblefest: Please Join In!

[el_wing]

105 words

Jack rolled over. Nothing there. Saturday morning. Just a cold empty space, sleepin bag scrunched around his waist as he sat up. Face itched.

Crotch itched more.

Head popped in the tent.  Lopsided grin met Jack like sunshine.

“You gettin up, lazy bones?” Ennis asked.

“I kinda doubt it—unless there’s somethin to get up for.”

“How about a pancake breakfast?”

“Not unless them pancakes come ta me.”

“Jack Twist, you are one lazy son-of-a-bitch.”

“So I’ve been told—most of my life. Tell me somethin I don’t know, and I might oblige ya.”

“How ‘bout I show ya.”

That mornin they forgot about pancakes. 

[mariez]

.....
Ennis silent for a moment looks down feeling the soft cotton. "Ah sure do......like it 'lot.....reminds me of that one Ah had back in Riverton.....put it on that day ya came ta see me....hadn't seen ya in so long.....wouldn't let Alma wash it fer the longest time after...."

Mark, for some reason when I saw "iron" I thought of that striped shirt, too!

105 words

Jack rolled over. Nothing there. Saturday morning. Just a cold empty space, sleepin bag scrunched around his waist as he sat up. Face itched.

Crotch itched more.

Head popped in the tent.  Lopsided grin met Jack like sunshine.

“You gettin up, lazy bones?” Ennis asked.

“I kinda doubt it—unless there’s somethin to get up for.”

“How about a pancake breakfast?”

“Not unless them pancakes come ta me.”

“Jack Twist, you are one lazy son-of-a-bitch.”

“So I’ve been told—most of my life. Tell me somethin I don’t know, and I might oblige ya.”

“How ‘bout I show ya.”

That mornin they forgot about pancakes. 

el, it's so great to see you back here!  What a sweet, funny scene between the boys!

Thanks,
Marie

[mariez]

A little late again.....

A Special Breakfast

Alma looked at the empty pillow beside her and pulled the covers up as she rolled over, squeezing her eyes shut against the sight.

"Mama!"  Junior was patting her shoulder.  "Get up, Mama. Remember you said we could have pancakes this morning?"

She opened her eyes into Junior's smiling face, forced a smile back.  "Sure, honey.  Mama's just being a lazy bones this morning.  How about we put some chocolate chips in the pancakes?"

"Oh, boy!  Daddy's gonna be sorry he missed chocolate chip pancakes!"

She watched Junior run from the room in excitement. "I kinda doubt it," she murmured.

~~~~~~~
100 Words

[mariez]

Happy Sunday - hope your weather is as beautiful as mine.     Let's try:

• a good mood
• irritated
• toothache

Marie

[mariez]

Ms. Wrong

His mama used to say that his bed didn't have a wrong side because he always woke up in a good mood.  But lately he was irritated before he'd even finished breakfast.  He watched out of the corner of his eye as Lureen folded and re-folded the newspaper carefully, creasing it sharply with her perfectly manicured thumbnail ….and now she was stirring her coffee again – exactly five times clockwise, then five times counter-clockwise…..and why did she have to scrunch her nose like that when she read something she didn't like?

He rubbed his forehead and looked away.  There was nothing wrong with the way she folded the paper, or with the way she stirred her coffee, or with the way she scrunched her nose.

She was simply the wrong person. 

~~~~~~~
130 Words

[fernly]

A Special Breakfast

......
"Oh, boy!  Daddy's gonna be sorry he missed chocolate chip pancakes!"

She watched Junior run from the room in excitement. "I kinda doubt it," she murmured.
......

Ms. Wrong

 ......He watched out of the corner of his eye as Lureen folded and re-folded the newspaper carefully, creasing it sharply with her perfectly manicured thumbnail ......

She was simply the wrong person. 

So beautifully done. Thank you, even though you make my heart ache for them all, over and over again.

[fernly]

a longish one (a tribble I believe it's called? ) from a prompt from the 8th


Lunchtime

   Sun was right overhead, wind had dropped down to almost nothing, and in the overall silence, small sounds grew clear and distinct – Chance's breaths, slow and relaxed, the creaks of the saddle as it shifted a little with each long stride, the buzz and whirring of the insects that had found them now and followed in the quiet air. He brushed at them with his free hand, decided he'd move away from the creek where he'd been looking for sign of the missing cattle. There was a bluff about half a mile ahead, rising up rough and broken out of the plain. There'd be shade there, on a shelf high enough up to scan some of the plain, place to sit and eat his lunch.

   He tied the reins, loose, but out of the way, around the saddle horn, and left Chance to graze on the grass, still green here in early summer, but not for long, not with this sun bearing down. The sandstone crumbled a little under his hands and boots, as he stepped and scrambled his way up, enjoying the stretch and reach from one outcropping or crevice to another. Found his spot, kicked a few small rocks out of the way, they tumbled and clattered down to the plain below, knocking other pebbles loose as they fell.

   He sat down, found a smooth enough place to lean back against, stretched his legs out, let the heat of the rock soak into him, the heat of the sun burn into him from above, the glare bright as firelight through his closed eyelids. There was an overhanging piece of rock he could've moved under, patch of shade beneath, but now he wanted the sun, needed it burning through his clothes, through his skin, as if it might, for a few minutes here at lunchtime, on June 24th, 1964, be enough to overwhelm the fire that never stopped burning inside him.

[mariez]

......
   He sat down, found a smooth enough place to lean back against, stretched his legs out, let the heat of the rock soak into him, the heat of the sun burn into him from above, the glare bright as firelight through his closed eyelids. There was an overhanging piece of rock he could've moved under, patch of shade beneath, but now he wanted the sun, needed it burning through his clothes, through his skin, as if it might, for a few minutes here at lunchtime, on June 24th, 1964, be enough to overwhelm the fire that never stopped burning inside him.

Fern, your "tribble" is also a master class in descriptive writing - and really captures the essence of that "fire." Thanks.

Marie

[mariez]

Another Monday!  How do these sound?

• scents
• sense
• cents

 
Marie

[MaineWriter]

Somewhere in Wyoming
April 1971

Ennis buried his head in Jack’s neck, drinking in the combined scents of his lover: whiskey, smoke from the campfire and cigarettes, an earthy smell of sweat and musk. “Jack, promise me something,” he mumbled, still inhaling deeply.

Jack started. Ennis wasn’t one to lightly ask for promises. “What’s that cowboy?” he replied.

“Don’t start wearing no fancy aftershave or cologne or anything. I can’t stand smelly stuff…I like the way you smell just natural. Like the outdoors. Like a…man.” He said the last words slowly, realizing he was admitting in a small way that he liked—maybe loved—a man, liked the way a man smelled.

“Alma don’t wear perfume?”

Ennis shook his head. “We ain’t got two cents to rub together, sure don’t have any spare money for that kind a foolishness. Fine with me, I just told ya, I don’t like smelly stuff.”

Jack rolled onto his back and looked up at the roof of the tent. “Lureen pours it on, you can smell her comin from a mile away.” He paused, then turned back to Ennis. “Even though I’ve been livin in Texas a few years now, I ain’t got used to Texas ways a livin. I’m like you, just a simple Wyoming boy who don’t like smelly stuff.”

“So yer gonna promise?”

Jack nodded yes. “It’s an easy promise. I’d promise something serious too, if ya asked.”

Ennis looked at him, his eyes sorrowful. “This’ll do for now,” he said softly.

(251 words)