Comments Posted By Tracy Whitt
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The Scotts jeered at the new bloke from over the hill. His tales were reminiscent of those told repeatedly throughout the highlands, but he was impervious.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.11.2013 @ 3:04 pm
Her glasses rested on the edge of her nose, she focused on the screen in front of her. The lane of traffick that passed by the piazza drummed in her ears. Then a car stalled a few feet from her table.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 02.22.2013 @ 11:55 am
I can’t imagine life without him. My husband. Were it not for the fatal crash that killed my mother I would not have met him. He walked out of the other car, virtually unscathed. The car that had run the red light, slamming into my mom’s little Taurus.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 02.04.2013 @ 12:55 pm
He was denied entrance into the exclusive club because of his shoes. He knew it, those damn shoes Ricki had given him were the cause. He whipped his phone out of his back pocket and spoke the name, “Ricki.” The young man answered on the third strum of the guitar.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 10.17.2012 @ 2:04 pm
The cap was too tight, I struggled to twist it of to no avail. The man sitting alone in the seat next to mine watched, a grin on his stubbly face. Would he offer his assistance or just stare at me while I showed a lack of feminine prowess in my inability to undo a simple lid?
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 06.03.2012 @ 1:30 pm
The moments leading up to today didn’t make sense. I was a random atom in this world of circling meaningless. I was the only living thing it seemed to me. Problem was everyone else thought they were alive and I was dead.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 05.25.2012 @ 12:57 pm
Just a sliver of time was all it took. It sent me back, reeling into the great unknown beginnings of my life. Somewhere I didn’t want to go, but fate was going to shift my life in a backwards focus no matter what steps I took to will it not. What would those forgotten memories bring?
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 04.28.2012 @ 12:25 pm
Darla looked down at the flowing red dress that swayed around her. The hem had a slight tear along the rhine stones. Her mother would fix it later.
“Daring, how did you Ike the ball?” Esther said as she grabbed both of darla’s hands firmly in hers.
“Oh it was fabulous! The dress was stunning, and Fred and I danced all evening.” Darla smiled gracefully and separated her hands from her friends’.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 04.19.2012 @ 8:40 pm
“It will nourish my soul.” Madeline said, as she flipped her long dark hair to the side.
“Why do you have to use such verbose language?” For the life of me I could not understand this child.
“Why do you?” Madeline grabbed the pop tart out of the red toaster.
“Because I am 45. You, on the other hand are only 12.”
Madeline’s whining became louder. “Well, its true, if I go to this retreat it will nourish my soul and send me back refreshed.”
I stifled a laugh, these could only be words her father, my ex, had put in her mouth. “That or you will get in trouble with your boyfriend.”
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 04.12.2012 @ 4:33 pm
My leg swelled, and my breathing became labored. I reached out a hand, grabbing Jeremy’s pant leg.
“Bitten.” The only word I could muster, trying to show the urgency of my circumstances.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 04.11.2012 @ 9:34 pm
My mother-in-laws favorite stone, the ruby. Taste, she does not have. Their bright red stones encircle her right hand ring finger, while a purple bracelet colorfully dangles from her wrist, clinging as she does the dishes. Her blue necklace adorns her thinning collar bone with grace, but not beauty.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 04.06.2012 @ 9:38 pm
“What did he say to you?” Her eyes implored him, not wavering.
“He was a catcher for the Sacramento Dolphins.” He said flatly, not looking up from his paper.
“How did he die?”
“They are saying it’s murder.”
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.28.2012 @ 9:17 am
The dead log moved up and down, drifting on the rolling water. It reminded me of myself. Lifeless. Tired. Spent. But unlike the log, I would get up and live again. All I needed was a drink. Something strong.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.26.2012 @ 1:09 pm
My eyes were fixed on the memorial. How many had died that day? I don’t remember the number, but I know loved ones haven’t forgot. The one or few who mattered to them will never be forgotten. I looked up at the empty space the towers used to fill, a void much larger that a blue sky.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.21.2012 @ 4:10 pm
Only the ratings matter. Not the people, not the opinions of the masses. Only ratings. I shoved my pen in my purse, and stood abruptly from the chair. Across from me, Marie sat waiting, she would see what I would do.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.20.2012 @ 1:54 pm
The intricate pattern etched itself among the flowing lines on the quilt.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.15.2012 @ 8:01 pm
I can’t imagine what she is up to. All I saw was the tear in her eye, and the scrunched face of someone who was overjoyed. He had walked in, unexpected, and high on his horse when I overheard the two of them. “You will be here for the duration of the summer, and I suppose that won’t be of much consequence.”
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.14.2012 @ 4:26 pm
The knock sounded at my door, loud and persistent. The young man thrust a clip board in my face and rattled off some statistics of why I should sign the petition. They needed 5,000 names, and mine would be number 4,987. If I signed.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.13.2012 @ 12:21 pm
Mocking my beliefs. Someone can have an in vogue belief in say, Buddha, Allah, or maybe even Catholicism, but I am unable to have a belief in Jesus Christ because those who have gone before me have shoved his name in the mud.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.12.2012 @ 3:59 pm
Reduce, recycle, reuse. How many times can it be repeated? I look at my manager sitting in the row in front of me. He’s typing away on his phone which sits on his lap under the desk. Texting his newest fling?
The speakers words bring me back to where I should be.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.11.2012 @ 9:21 pm
The ting of the bell rang in my ears, and the teacher needlessly yelled, “Dismissed!” The halls were teaming with students and teachers alike, all wanting to be the first out those front doors. There were things to accomplish, and none of them had to do with education behind walls.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.09.2012 @ 3:26 pm
I was invited for brunch, but I wasn’t the brunch type. That was for old people. Those who had nothing to do during the day. Those who didn’t have a life really.
But I went, and I found one of my best friends there.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.08.2012 @ 4:08 pm
He was required to make a demonstration using the latest scientific facts they had learned in Chemistry. Tomorrow. Nothing had been done, no preparation. Not on his part anyway. I had thought it through in the likely event he procrastinated once again.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.07.2012 @ 12:59 pm
The swinging pendulum in the clock was lulling me to sleep. I straightened my elegant velvet dress and touched my plastered hair, making sure everything was in place. The queen would be here soon. I looked to my assistant, expecting her to be dozing off.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.06.2012 @ 1:07 pm
She sure didn’t act professional. Her hair was wrapped in a messy bun, she had on sneakers beneath her sweat pants, which were dress slack look alikes. But then I heard her story and I wanted to hit myself for my judgmental thoughts.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.05.2012 @ 12:45 pm
I used the rag closest to me and wiped the trickling sweat off my brow. What else could I do? Let it slide into my eyes? Or just let the whole world know that I was not one who perspires nicely? A workout meant work, and that’s what I was here for.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.03.2012 @ 1:54 pm
Thick black muck suctioned my boots to the ground as I walked. I had one more lantern to light before I was able to head home. My kids were waiting up tonight. I would give them hugs and leave in the morning for the war. There would be tears and heartache, but I had to go. For the good of my family I would go.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 03.01.2012 @ 2:44 pm
He was a generator, one who generated the false sense of security. He generated money like no other. Or the idea of money. Wall Street. It never sleeps right? Well neither does Beckman. His life is money, he breathes it.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 02.28.2012 @ 4:57 pm
She could only bring crescent rolls. She was a chef in her day to day life, but when it came to our family, we got the crescent rolls. The ones purchased at the local grocery. We weren’t good enough for the French bread she bragged about.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 02.27.2012 @ 12:39 pm
Back To Stats Page
I can’t begin to guess what the world is coming to. We have face lifts, boob lifts, nose jobs, tummy tucks. Worst of all is something I recently heard of, and all I have to do is say the name Joan Rivers and you can start to imagine the possibilities.
» Posted By Tracy Whitt On 02.25.2012 @ 12:44 pm