It has been a while since I tried the Trifecta challenge. This week is special, so I thought I’d have a little tickle at it. Nothing clever or fancy, just a small sketch brought to mind by the week’s word choice.
[box title=”The Prompt” style=”glass” box_color=”#659a95″ radius=”5″]This week we are giving you a page from the Oxford English Dictionary. The ninety-ninth page, to be exact. From this page, you can choose any word, any definition, to use in your post. (Please type your chosen word in bold, so we know.) And instead of our typical 33-333 word limit, we are asking for 99 words exactly.
– See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com [/box]
Pops was remote, quite alien to us – the rank stench of pipe smoke clinging to his hair, his soft brown moleskins, and his corduroy jacket. We played at his feet and thought him some kind of Omnipotent, his head up there in a puff of cloud. He spoke little and infrequently but when he did, speech moderated by the pipe stem gripped fast between his yellowed dentures, it was always to promise a penny:
“Ah’ll gi’ yer a penny if’n yer pop dahn t’baccy shop ‘n fetch mi spills…”
— and always a stinking hug with the penny.