March 13, 2012

Trifecta Week Eighteen

The Trifecta Writing Challenge is to write a story with no less than 33 words and no more than 333. Each story must use Webster dictionary's third definition for a word supplied by the fine editors (or gleaned from writers' Get to Know Me posts).

This week's word is trail (verb \ˈtrāl\)

3: to move, flow, or extend slowly in thin streams 

Processing

As the words spill from my mouth, my daughter grunts her usual one-word answers.

Anger. I feel. Lost.

I drop the blades into the processor, use a knife to disrupt the solid cream that rises to the top of the bottle of whipping cream and pour. I slam the bottle down, snap a lid on the bowl, and attach its motor on top.

I feel my lips thin, like my mother’s always were when she lost it. I squeeze hard on the button of the Braun handle, and I can’t help it, I can’t stop.

Why.

Why.

Why.

The child is too old for the attention-seeking behaviour she consistently pulls, but maybe she isn’t. She displays no self-control and this drives me crazy.

Again she grunts answers, offering only the top of her bowed head. This sends me further up the proverbial wall while the engine of my Braun drones a steady high pitch. Trying to quiet myself I lean my head on the counter, watching the creamy white in the clear plastic bowl. Rivulets of the cream trail down its side.

Dammit.

Upright again, I eye the bottle. In my anger I’ve dumped a half litre of liquid into a container that can maybe handle a quarter, a third max.

I look up, knowing that I am not in control.

Tears flow freely down my nine year old’s porcelain skin.

My gaze returns to the bowl. I feel the shift, hear the change, and observe as the liquid turns to a solid. Once it changes, it cannot be returned to it’s soft creamy beginnings.

As I rinse the butter and pour the buttermilk into cups for my younger two to enjoy, I feel the weight of my own exhaustion and I wonder where I can go from here.

20 comments:

  1. I've managed to overfill a blender with ice and dark rum with disastrous results, so I can emphasize. As it was I shouldn't have been anywhere near any appliances. You've captured a lot of emotion in a tight write.

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    1. Thank you. It makes the anxiety I felt while editing this worthwhile.

      And yes. Sometimes operating heavy equipment is probably just not smart. Or, you know, operating equipment heavily.

      You've just mentioned two of my favourite things. Liquor and ice. I am pretty happy to skip the blender part, so that's something.

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  2. Thank you for this story. It made me feel less alone this week. The symbolism is so subtle, too. Very cool.

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    1. Yar. No matter how great the kids, how healthy most of the parenting, we all have those days, weeks, hell months till we can find the track. That's my opinion, anyway. And some kids are just more ... um ... complicated? ... than others. Sigh.

      Funny, my husband just read the story and then the comments, and said he knew there was a symbol in there somewhere, but it wasn't till he read your comment that he said, "Oooooh." =)

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  3. Nicely done. The emotion is tangible.

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    1. Thank you. Identifying, or even having emotions, was not something I learned or specialised in as a teen and young adult. I feel that having them and expressing them now, though hard won, is a total score. Even the harder feelings.

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  4. I can totally relate. Anything that trails in the kitchen that is not INSIDE a bowl will completely unnerve me. I can feel the tension in your writing in my very skin!

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    1. Thanks Sandra. I hate to say it but I'm an enthusiastic and very sloppy kitchen worker. Making marmalade now. Should probably wash floors before *and* afterward ...

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  5. "Once it changes, it cannot be returned to its soft creamy beginnings."

    I don't know if you intended for this sentence to contain so much meaning but it does for me, as a mom. I'm going to remember this line when I pick up my kids from school today. Thanks. Well said.

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    1. That sentence took up much more of my time than any sentence I've ever written. After spending time yesterday with a 4 month old baby I think it is inevitable, but hopefully one can be careful about how they help the change along ...

      Thanks for noticing it. I too must meditate on my role more often. It's a tricky roe to hoe.

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  6. I love this for more reasons than I can even begin to get into here, but suffice it to say that I can relate. Probably not in the way you intended, but I can relate nonetheless.

    "I feel my lips thin, like my mother’s always were when she lost it."

    This sentence brought up the "turning into my mother" type things for me. Isn't it strange how we don't realize when we do that?

    It's lovely. Truly.

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    1. Thank you for visiting, I'm relieved, frankly, that I'm not alone in this -- both in the writing and in the parenting stuff. I'd love to know how you related, let me know if you ever publish something about it.

      My mother is/was a very terrifying angry person (her mom was too) so I'm always aware of the looks on my face and the times I scare my kids. It breaks off a little piece of my heart each time. And it kills me when I see them do it to each other.

      Soldiering on ... Thanks again for the compliment.

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  7. Wow, wonderful work this week, Karen. Very gripping.

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    1. Thank you Amanda. As you know, I love your writing very much, and perhaps some of your honesty is rubbing off here? I love to be influenced by all of the Trifecta/100 word writers so much, it is a very nice part of my (completely out of control) life right now.

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  8. Wow. This is where I live. So perfectly expresses the tension, the anger/love/frustration/powerlessness I feel these days as a parent.

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    1. Alec and I were just talking about how much we both are feeling this right now, for the first time in a long time him even more than me. It's hard, yo. (((((HUGS))))) At least we -- you and I and some others here -- are in this thing together, right?!

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  9. Thanks for linking up to Trifecta this week, Karen. Your piece, obviously, hit a lot of us in the gut. I think (hope) all parents have spent a good chunk of time in that space. I love your metaphor here, and I love the way you pull on the past and on the future in order to tell about this present. Nicely crafted. Hope to see you again soon.

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    1. Thank you. I think we all are just trying to figure things out as we go, and doing our very best to not simply parent by default. But those tics, man, those things that are our parents and their parents, I think it is those things that really keep me scared and honest.

      I appreciate the feedback you give here, please keep producing the feedback. It's rock solid.

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  10. You really captured that out of control frustration she's experiencing. well done.

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    1. Thank you. Could be because I was feeling it ... Oops!

      Glad you came to read it.

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