The Neighborhood Goes To The Dogs
Bench Pressing Strong Verbs
How about stronger writing?
Not as easy…use stronger verbs, and, for fun, make a game of it. And, so we shall, using unused words drawn randomly from our list of 179: distinguish, perpetuate, impress, embody, organize, extrapolate, serve, assess, delineate, and respond.
Janet twirled long black hair while standing behind the front window curtain, determined to remain invisible. Months after that oaf of a contractor demolished poor Mrs. Puffmyer’s cute little cottage, replacing lovely memories of afternoon teas with a hideous MacMansion, rumbles had awoken Janet at the horrible hour of noon.
Still blinking sleep from her eyes, she jumped, clutching her shawl closer when a white mini-van swerved to the curb. Janet moaned when a blonde woman in black tights and pink, form-fitting jacket ushered out children, too numerous to distinguish individual features let alone auras. The creatures then dodged workers who labored with impossible loads, carrying furniture and boxes, perpetuating and magnifying the chaos.
And, as if the mayhem wasn’t enough to impress appalled neighbors gathering on the sidewalk, a little yap-yap dog materialized, as if by magic, embodying a situation going to…well…the dogs.
Shadow hopped onto the wing-backed chair, coming fluidly to rest, somehow never in motion, and stared Janet straight in the eye. With a last twitch of his tail, he finally spoke. “Rowwwwwr.”
“Yes…Barbie and her brood have descended on us, and she still has her figure. And don’t use that tone with me, buster.” Janet’s tummy clinched and she bit her lip before bending close, then nodded to the disaster unfolding beyond. “I’m sorry for being rude. This…this…circus has me all out of sorts.”
He looked away.
Janet moaned. “Don’t act that way, please? I know I’m a mess, but I promise to organize the others and put things to rights.”
He purred slightly, and finally rewarded her with a glance.
She laughed and swooped him up to hold him tight, claws and all.
His purr grew louder with each heartbeat.
“Oh, you little con artist.” She stroked him and headed to her bedroom. “If I were a rocket scientist, this is where I would say something like I’m extrapolating your feelings to our circumstance, but I already know them. Ones I happen share them.”
Unimpressed, he vaulted to the bed, strutted to the pillows, then gave her a challenging look before curling up, golden eyes watching.
“Despite your views on our relationship, I don’t exist to always serve at your beck and call,” she said, wagging her finger. At her nudge, he glared and complained. “I got that nice wool blankie at the foot of the bed just for you, so stop leaving black little hairs on my sheets. I don’t care that your black hair matches black silk sheets.”
He curled up again, back to her, and tucked his tail in.
“Fine, see if I care.” She turned up her nose and carefully folded the shawl before shucking her black nightie and tucked everything under a pillow. Arms folded, she opened her closet doors and assessed neatly ordered gray dresses lined with scarlet fringe. Imagine the nerve of those thinking she owned only one dress, incapable of delineating subtle differences between them. Besides, she happened to like gray. And fringe accentuated her wiggles and jiggles.
With a twitch of her nose a dress suddenly slithered into place, snug where it flattered her, and roomier elsewhere. With another twitch, thigh-high boots slipped into place, covering bare legs, heels lifting her six inches.
“Now…we respond to this…this invasion of those neighborhood snatchers.”
Shadow opened one golden eye, sighed, then curled tighter.