Writer's Cramp entry for 5/7/18. Word count: 379 |
Alone in the back yard, Martha smiled when she caught sight of it. Backyards were a grand place for one and this was no exception. Canopies of tree limbs kept the warmth of the sun to a minimum. Dozing with a slight movement from the wind and its precarious nature was blissful and called to her. Easing herself down, Martha sat gingerly as it was always best to test the situation out instead of throwing oneself into the fray. Feeling confident in her position, she leaned onto her right side and tossed her legs up. Getting her weight off balance caught her off guard and she flailed about with her center of gravity too high. Hooking her left arm first and then shoving her right foot through really had her in a pickle. “I’ve done it now,” she said aloud as she stopped fighting to assess her situation. “Just relax and think about it logically. Kicking and screaming will do nothing but make you look more a fool.” Looking over her shoulder, she could see that her head was only a few inches from the ground. Maneuvering her shoulder to the right, she stuck her right hand out onto the ground. Not able to sit up, she let out a frustrated roar. Off balance even more so with her arm at her side, she shoved her left foot through to gain some much-needed purchase. Pushing with her left foot, just made her move from side to side. “Questioning your decision, I see, Shelia.” “Right now, would not be the time to admonish me, sister. So, if you would just help me out of this mess, I would greatly appreciate it.” Taking stock of her sister, she chuckled. “Use your head and not your limbs, Martha,” “Very astute, Sheila.” “Well, it’s mind over matter or a 9-1-1 call for my 86-year-old sibling.” “Xenial, sister, you are!” “You did this yourself,” said Sheila as she fished her phone from her pocket. “Zip it up, Shelia,” said Martha as she rolled out of the rope hammock and on to the grass, kicking until her right leg was free. Prompt: ▼ |