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Rated: E · Book · Comedy · #2214457
Here I go down a rabbit hole. What will I encounter? What will I write? Viva l'imagination
Challenges await...
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March 2, 2020 at 2:17pm
March 2, 2020 at 2:17pm
         PROMPT: Create a new drink from your imagination, appealing or not to readers.
         Me create a new drink? I must confess I've never considered this before. I do enjoy the fun names given to various cocktail-type beverages. During a memorable sojourn in Cuba, I discovered a delicious concoction known as Sex On the Beach. Now, I wish to taste its cousin, Sex In a Snowbank. What crossed the mind of the creator of Fuzzy Navel? Is there a real Harvey Wallbanger?
         Since this segment of the challenge is titled Down the Rabbit Hole, I think it's only fitting to create a drink in its honour and as its namesake. It has to be dark and disorienting. Perhaps, it should be based on dark rum. Adding a bit of sediment type stuff would make it more lifelike.
         Okay, here is Down the Rabbit Hole, a drink designed not for the faint of heart. Its ingredients are: dark rum, chocolate liqueur, chocolate sprinkles, with a sprig of mini white marshmallows.
         I am not a mixologist nor a drink wizard. I suspect that would require a certain amount of eye-hand coordination and basic balance. Yes, I am tipsy even before imbibing. I slosh and stumble at the best of times.
         To properly prepare my drink creation, I propose attending a swanky hotel with a suitably mellow bar and a handsome bartender ensconced therein. The lighting will be subdued, no disco ball-crystal chandelier- stab-the-eyes brightness. Maybe this establishment will be known to its laid back clientele as the Wonderland. We all crave a watering hole we can disappear in.
March 2, 2020 at 2:02pm
March 2, 2020 at 2:02pm
         PROMPT: Create a blog or a static item about an opportunity of a lifetime, a key to achieving something important. Do not drop your gloves and fan!
         Waving her stiff new passport at the receding figure of her father, Kristen joined the other would be travellers shuffling along in the slow moving departure line. As she gazed around the noisy airport terminal she mentally ticked off items on her long list. Passport, check. Boarding pass, check. Luggage tagged, check. Cell phone... wait a minute, where did she put it? After a few anxious minutes of digging through her carry on and patting down her jacket, Kristen found her device exactly where she had left it, or more accurately pocketed it. Her shoulders relaxed and her breathing slowed. That phone would be her lifeline, her only connection with home. Did she remember to pack its charging cable? Feeling her anxiety manifest in a quickened heart beat, she reminded herself to breathe. She had packed and repacked her bags. She'd prepared.
         Her family had professed to being perplexed by Kristen's decision to teach abroad. They had argued international travel came fraught with insurmountable dangers. She'd be a stranger in a strange land. Who could she trust? What would she eat? Did she realize there would be a language barrier? Could she really stay away for an entire year?
         Kristen had considered many variables as best an unseasoned traveller could foresee. Yes, she knew she lacked life experience. She could best be described as quiet and shy. No, she did not speak Korean, fluently or otherwise. True, she could be a picky eater, but she'd converted to a vegetarian lifestyle.
         A sigh escaped her lips. Kristen tossed her hair over her straightened shoulders and tightened her grip on her purse. She smiled when she felt the passport clutched in her hand. Nods were exchanged with the crush of humanity in her sights. With every step she took, her adventure seemed closer. She could and would do this.
         Dropping into her airplane seat and tugging on the seatbelt, Kristen surprised herself. She felt no regret, no fear, no what-ifs. She felt free. There'd be no turning back now. By tomorrow, she'd be an English as a second language teacher in South Korea. Not too shabby for a small town girl with grand plans. She chuckled. The strains of 'Miss Independence' echoed in her memory. (375 words)
March 2, 2020 at 1:18pm
March 2, 2020 at 1:18pm
PROMPT: In less than 500 words create a blog about this activity and what you hope to gain from it when you are finished.
         Hmm, follow the white rabbit means I choose to immerse myself in stifling, blinding, shape-shifting smoke. "White rabbit" is the phrase one chokes out as they hastily get up and try to avoid campfire smoke. In other words, I choose to torture/test myself and my capacity for the uncomfortable and the unknown. I cannot perceive what awaits me. I may be forced to re-position myself. That's 'kinda' bleak, and not entirely what I intended, I rambled. I don't consider writing and the creative process to be an inconvenience. It's a challenge. Sure, my thoughts and ideas often tease me with their randomness, and they can dance just out of my reach in shimmery, shadowy shapes. All I can do is follow.
         I choose to chase the rabbit of creativity and adventure. I'm open to a nudge or two. I'm up for some spontaneity and the sensation of falling into the unknown.
         It's a good thing I don't believe in good luck talismans like a rabbit's foot. Alice's White Rabbit contends with enough anxieties to add one less leg to his burdens. I'll willingly stumble and react as Alice did.
         During a fall, time is suspended. Sounds and sights are distorted. The fall itself becomes the immediate focus. I endeavour to recreate that focus with this writing challenge. I suppose I hope to relax into this fall and accept where it deposits me. Granted, I do not relish bruises, sprains, or what have you, but writer's cramp may be inevitable.
         As I roam, perhaps cavort, I hope to better appreciate time. My goal is to develop a better grasp on the use of my time. Writing deserves my unhurried attention.
(305 words)

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