Tag: girls

Day Seventeen: the chick from the Cutting Crew

| November 29, 2012 | 0 Comments



~
Tosche

Day Eleven: Ardent Way

| November 15, 2012 | 0 Comments

It had all lead to this, she’d put in a hell of a lot of effort to get this far, the odds had been far out of her favor and yet she had triumphed. A cup of coffee, altogether too hot and sweet, was hers. Triumph.
The darting eyes of waiters under thick black hair and too much pressure from the obnoxious American canoe competition team on table four had not looked her way, the steaming pots of cheap coffee and weak tea poured by without ever diverting in their path to her table but still she had triumphed over the odds. With a cunning combination of feminine charm and obstinate determination that comes from paying a ludicrous fee for the breakfast buffet she had broken through the ranks of waiting staff to her goal: the coffee. Kind of a shame that it tasted so awful.
~Tosche

Day Seven: Astromicus Manicus

| November 10, 2012 | 0 Comments

On a hill side, in the sun and wind like a long-shot in a romcom, slipping through the dewy terrain while smiling and sweeping down the slope. Grunting and falling, shoe, body tripping in motion and landing in a crumpled heap at the incline’s base.
Mud on shirt, bruise on face, dent in dignity, hair still fine.
Astromicus rolled over, spine clicking into place and limbs hesitantly following direction of brain and body, tried to push upright and buckled at the attempt. Getting up and brushing this embarrassing fall off would clearly take some time, this lesson in not running down freshly wet grass would not take as long to absorb.

~Tosche

Day Six: Amorveous (Amy)

| November 9, 2012 | 0 Comments

Two minutes, that was quick, indeed — a new record. Where once piping hot pudding and melting mountains of ice cream slouched were now faint streaks of creamy, crumbly, residue of dessert and regret. Amy finished polishing the bowl with her tongue — don’t ask where the mouth is — until the, now cool, ceramic surface tasted more of object and less of desire.
This jaunt into flavour country would mean a lot of mirror-gazing but damn, the descent into self doubt was tasty.
~Tosche

Day 8: Sandy Torres

| November 8, 2012 | 2 Comments

Sandy is a private investigator and Otis Wonder’s partner(day 6). She is originally from Brooklyn, NY where she worked as a bodyguard for celebrities when they came to town. She is a highly skilled martial artist as well as en expert marksman. Sandy’s sarcastic sense of humor is a perfect contrast to Otis’s serious demeanor.

#11 & #12 Barb and Polly

| November 11, 2011 | 0 Comments

day 11 & 12 - Barb and Polly by George WardBarb and polly are sisters and are professional gymnasts.  Other then that they couldn’t be more different.  Barb is happy and playful most of the time while Polly is mopey and uncaring.  Their very different outlooks on life cause a lot of conflicts and humor between the two but in the end they love each other and try to work through their differences.

Day# 16 Thomas “Weeks” Kelsey

| November 19, 2010 | 0 Comments
#16 Thomas "Weeks" Kelsey, for Aedre's Firefly by Jande Rowe

#16 Thomas "Weeks" Kelsey, for Aedre's Firefly by Jande Rowe

Thomas J. Kelsey, dubbed “Weeks”, short for “Wee Kelsey”, which was what most of the other kids called him from the first day he attended Maple Public School. Snarky remarks during his first recess period about his diminutive size –about two thirds the height of the shortest of his peers– soon gave way to awe when he aptly demonstrated not only his aptitude and skill at most sports, but his well honed sportsmanship as well. He could take joke and a pounding on the sports field better than most boys twice his physical stature. He was built heavy for his height, yet he was agile, too.

He did well in his academic studies, got along well with other boys, and excelled on the sportsfield. The one thing he’s have no truck with was girls, and he held strong opinions as to their place in sports, mostly negative. Where girls were concerned he was implacable. If a girl wanted to play on his team, he would stare at them without a sound until they fled. Unless of course they fled to a teacher who forced him to comply, which he did readily, but gave no quarter to the girl, so that finally she had to give up in defeat.

Aedre, of course, didn’t know this until she smashed into his prejudice head-on. She had asked the recess teacher if she could play soccer, and he had agreed she could. Fully confident of himself and his view of the world, Weeks bested her simply by being himself. No hard feelings on his part. That’s just the way the world works. She never had a chance to even see the ball. She may as well have been invisible. For Aedre, who had hopes and dreams of a different world than the lost and lonely one in which she found herself, it was just another entry carved into her psyche on the very long list of grievances that would push her to the very edge of either going mad, or giving up completely.

Weeks didn’t know anything about Aedre of course, except what the other boys told him, that she was a cootie-bag and a witch besides, but whether or not he believed them didn’t matter. She was a girl and girls had no value in Week’s world.