The Best Laid Plans

(C) MindloveMisery’s Menagerie. Wordle Week 61, May 18, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by, MindloveMisery’s Menagerie

The Wordle Challenge #61 

1. Prevalent
2. Glib (readily fluent, often thoughtlessly, superficially, or insincerely so)
3. Amble
4. Choke
5. Morass (any confusing or troublesome situation, especially one from which it is difficult to free oneself; entanglement; a marsh or bog)
6. Cement
7. Mesh
8. Sonder (the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.)
9. Aquiver
10. Gangway (a passageway, a narrow walkway)
11. Shrinkage
12. Court

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem.
The words can appear in an alternate form.
Use the words in any order that you like.

Cyrus and Ralph were in a rather sticky situation, see. Ralph just blabbered to Joanna about Cyrus’s secret birthday surprise for her. Cyrus has gone through the most elaborate blueprints, planned the most detailed schedule right down to the second and designed the most ingenious surprise for his one true love. And he loved every second of doing it, especially with an image of Joanna’s face contorted into the expression of jubilant surprise floating at the fore of his mind. Now that was all ruined.

Cyrus sighed in regret and ran his hands though his hazel brown mesh of hair, a habit that he was unconscious of. Trust Cyrus to confide his plans to the glib fool that was his best friend. Oh well, it can’t be helped now. Fools were prevalent in today’s society. It’s purely coincidental that one had ruined his grand master-plan. And he mustn’t blame him, nor can he spend any more time to mull over his morass any longer, for there was work to be done.

“I’m so sorry, Cyrus!” Ralph was drowning in sincere tears, his face aquiver with innocent sorrow, struggling to find his voice to choke out an apology.

Cyrus turned to face his best friend with warm and kind eyes. “It’s not your fault, Ralph. It’ll be fine. Anyway, I already have a backup plan.”

“Y- y- you do?” Ralph sniffled.

“Yep! You wanna help?” Cyrus grinned. “Wait. No, this whole mess is your fault, so you don’t get a choice. C’mon Ralph, let’s go to the store. I got many things to pickup.”

Ralph and Cyrus began to amble their way to the hardware store that was three blocks down the road. Ralph has stopped his crying and as such, he was back to his curious, glib and vocal self.

“So what’s your plan now, Cyrus?”

“Well, let’s see. I was thinking about using some quick-dry cement. Joanna has a way of planting her feet to the floor when she is surprised. So I’m gonna work with that.”

Ralph gasped then doubled over laughing.

“Oh my god. You’re evil.”

Cyrus smirked, then added, “We’ll lay the cement on the gangway at my garden. And I’ll also need something capable of rapid shrinkage. It has to shrink to a very small size to appear as if it vanishes in thin air. There are going to be ghosts at this party, Ralph.”

Word count: 400

A Man in a Mustache

The plane landing was a bumpy one.

Rookie pilot? he wondered. Then he quelled that thought and silently thanked the pilot for the undeniable fact that the pilot has fulfilled his duty – the plane was guided to the ground safely and a bumpy landing should be the least of anyone’s worries.

Involuntarily, the question of one’s mortality crept into Eric’s mind. It seems like I’m always entrusting my life into strangers’ hands. The pilot could’ve killed me. Or my waiter could’ve poisoned me. And now I’m about to enter a taxi whose driver could kill me just as easily too.

Eric was a thinker. It’s a habit of his that springs up whenever he commutes. It’s also another habit of his that his mind jumps topics as quickly as they do. Now he was wondering about home and designing scenarios that might occur when he finally opens the door.

The door swings open, they are there with balloons and a cake. Little Cyrus blows the streamer and emits a ‘phuuu!’ sound. I laugh. Then we all fall into a warm family hug.

Or…. Cyrus is a cheeky fellow. Maybe he’ll prank me. The cake. Yes, I suspect he will smash the cake in my face. *chuckles* How will I prepare for that? The most I could do is remove my tie, I guess. *removes tie* I’ll have to spend a great deal of time getting that cake smell out of my new mustache. Is it the first time they seen it? Yes, I think so… I wonder if they’ll like it.

Cyrus did not. He did not like it at all. When he heard the front door opened by a man in a mustache which he had never seen before, he clutched his mother’s shirt and asked, “Mom, who is that?”

Eric did not see that one coming.

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This tale was prompted by this post: May 2nd – Other People’s Memories

This actually happened to me

Back when Cyrus and Tyler were still young, they played tag everyday.

They played in on the streets, and often got bleeding knees whenever they fell.

They played in the house, and had to face to dreadful music before they even began.

They played in the malls, where it was too crowded to actually have any fun at all.

Then they played in school, where their game would be shared by all the other schoolchildren and it would turn into chaotic fun. They loved to play tag in school.

They had special rules, that Tyler invented. He was so proud of it.

He invented Ice and Fire. Where Ice could freeze anyone he touches, meaning they must stand at the spot they were caught until rekindled by another Fire. Ice has to freeze everyone to win.

Then he invented Virus, where Virus starts alone, and infects anyone he touches. The aim was to infect everyone.

But Cyrus never invented anything. He was never really very good at tag. His legs were skinny and did not have much strength in them.

So one day, in school, at the third and topmost storey, he was racing past a corridor that overlooked the rest of the school. Being chased was thrilling, but nevertheless, he was relieved when his chaser gave up.

He leant against the wall and slumped over a red, metal object by his side. He looked down at the rest of the school. He could see frozen Fires, and he could see Ice running to and fro to ensure they weren’t rekindled. He could see Fires plotting their rescue plan, huddled as a group.

The red metal object was uncomfortable to lean on, so he pulled away. And as he did, he dislodged something from it. A pin. Then white ash came flowing out from an opening.

Then he recognized it. It was a fire extinguisher. He knew how to use it. He watched movies. People used it when there were fires. Fires. And then he sniggered.

He picked it up, and pretended to be a fireman spraying white on the ‘Fire’. But his fun was short-lived by the sudden Ice appearing at the end of the corridor.

Cyrus, who never had good reaction nor instincts, pointed the fire extinguisher at Ice and he SQUEEZED THE TRIGGER.

It was snow in that humble school of his. Snow in Malaysia.

He squeezed and let go. And he squeezed again. He sprayed it over the railing and emptied the contents.

That was a game of tag he would never forget. Nor would the teachers and guards when they showed up baffled the next morning to confront a powdery white school courtyard.

A Chronicle at the Airport

Cyrus and Ralph were in an airport and heading towards their gate.

And the distance they had to walk is ridiculously far.

Then, a travellator came into their view.

Cyrus was overjoyed but Ralph just thought, “Oh it’s a flat escalator.”

Ralph moved to avoid it but bumped into Cyrus instead.

“What’s wrong, Ralph? Dude, let’s get on this thingy!”

“What! No! Can’t you see it’s horribly slow!?”

As they were arguing, Ralph and Cyrus walked onto the travellator anyway.

A passing businessman looked at the two and chose to avoid the travellator.

Indeed, his walking pace was faster than the travellator.

The businessman took one last glance back at Cyrus and Ralph and scoffed, then walked off.