Oh That Sound

Let's just say this comes of homesickness. Let's just say I've been thinking about how people pronounce their words indistinguishably where I am. Let's just say I can't wait to get back to The South. Let's just say this has terrible flow, is fictional and I'd love some comments to help me draft it.

Oh That Sound

“But mah dee-uh, sh-oughly you cain’t be seery-us,”

this fine southern woman said to me, sitting in a salon chair

with her curls being perfectly set by an overpaid stylist,

“Whut do you mean you’ve nevah gotton yauh hay-uh dunn?”

It wasn’t the first time that my “do” was commented on

and I was sure that it would not be the last. Such is the life

of a less-than-southern woman. I smiled back with affection –

she was a recently acquired family member and I loved

every moment of it. The fifty-something-you’d-best-not-guess-how-old

leaned forward between curls and sipped at her tea, always sweet.

 “In mah guhlhood, I would nevah hay-ve gone aowt!”

Over the next four hours, I had my “hay-uh dunn”

and my “nayals dunn” like “ruhspectable fulk” while being prodded

 as to whether or not my “yung may-yun” was “treetin’ you raht.”

 After being away for so long, I couldn’t imagine leaving again. 

Here's to posting a first draft. 

Filling Water Balloons

So this weekend's RemembeRED prompt is up:


This week, we're giving you a photo to take you back in time.
In 700 or fewer words, show us where your memory takes you. 

Remember that this image is merely inspiration. Your piece needn't have a hose in your piece, but we need to easily see how you were inspired by it.

 I don't so much have a hose story as a brief memory about water balloons. The hose makes little appearance.

Filling Water Balloons

The water was cold on my toes as I tried to fit an empty water balloon over the end of the leaky hose nozzle. It was my birthday and we were a good half an hour into a water fight.

“We always take my car ‘cause it’s never been beat,                                                                                                  and we never miss IT with the girls we meet.”

It was Dan singing. I was only 8 and had yet to discover the meaning behind the lines, but there was something about the way he sang it that made it stick in my mind. He was a few years older and had a much more worldly view of that song that I. He helped me fill up my balloons – it was so much easier with four hands – and we jumped back into the crowd of kids running around the front yard.

Carefully avoiding the red ant piles, I ducked around the Dogwood branches and nailed James right in the chest with a wobbly balloon.

“Arhh! I’m gonna get you for that!” he yelled. The fresh balloons were cold.

Comments welcome.