Trifecta: Normal

He bit excitedly into the apple, savouring the sweet juiciness even as it dribbled down his chin.  In his head, the world paused and focused on the delicious tastes and textures of the treat but his feet kept pace with the dirty, ragged shoal of boys as they twitched and swirled from one mischief to another.  He knew that it would be dangerous to lose this protective crowd here in this frontier between two worlds, a land of worn, cracked pavements and tatty shop fronts, a jumble of ethnic markets and knock-off sporting goods.

It segued gradually from the tatty shop fronts to another world of long abandoned, almost derelict fronts.  There were women loitering by the lampposts, brashly painted in skimpy clothes and wobbling, cheap heels.  An occasional car cruised by causing faces to look up.  In some of the doorways, men stood, singly usually, caps pulled low, a conscious look of disinterest on their faces but they saw everything that went by.

The boy sighed to himself with the last bite of the apple core; he had a long wait until he was old enough to run their errands, earning himself more than just the coins that they tossed out.   He liked his own bravery, cocky in his swagger as he stepped over an unseen line into that frontier land, proud of who he was and where he’d come from.  He had yet to travel beyond into the other world that his brother would hardly mention.

They raced down the street, each hundred metres or so getting dingier and more derelict.  Under the arches by the riverfront, the piles of rags and cardboard muttered and cursed at them as they swept past, tearing worn blankets and strips of card free.  He laughed at the game, joining in with light, practised hands.

They’d spend the afternoon on the waterfront, in one of the old yards, tearing things down, kicking oil drums.  The normal summer’s afternoon in the only world he had ever known.

This week’s Trifecta challenges asks us to use the third meaning of the noun ‘normal’ (a form or state regarded as the norm : standard).  Using normal as a noun doesn’t quite seem normal because that surely is an adjective?  Anyway, I find it fascinating how as children we accept whatever ‘normal’ life presents us with and it is only later that we realise the diversity of lifes and worlds around us and how perhaps what we once perceived as ‘normal’ isn’t actually the case.

Trifecta: Thunder

The constant noise hammering into the soul.

The shock and shudder of the whizz-bangs overhead.

The overpowering stench burning in the nostrils.

The seeping mud that oozed into everything.

But they sat idle waiting for orders.

Shortly though the word would come from up the line.

The thunder of the big guns.

Trifecta: Confidence

She carefully spooned the sauce over the pasta before carefully balancing an artful sprig of basil on top then studied the result, her perfectionist streak and pride gratified yet still wondering whether she was going to ridiculous lengths to please.  She carried the dish over to the table and placed it meticulously centre on the placemat, she stepped back, waiting, anxious.

Her guest was seated on several cushions  and had earlier been enveloped in a pristine white tea towel in preparation for the tomato sauce.  The glass of chocolate milk had brought some praise but the absence of a straw had been critically noted.

He lifted his fork, heavy fine cutlery sitting awkwardly in his small hand, and speared the first pieces, hungry enthusiasm tempered by caution.  Unconsciously, she held her breath.

“Mum always mixes the sauce in.”

A criticism, she felt it keenly.  She would remember his preferences for next time.  He’d been amazed to see her make the sauce from scratch; although she had told him that overworked mums didn’t have the time, she had been surprised by the low standards to which her sister had sunk.

He ate.

Mouth barely empty, he looked up at her:

“Mmm, it’s good.”

She relaxed, letting her breath go softly.  A vote of confidence.  It was just what she needed right now after all these tough weeks and in that moment she realised how all the stresses of work with three projects in a row being turned down as well as a soured relationship had been slowly eating away from her, votes of no confidence.  Now she turned lightly back to the pans to dish up her own meal, those stresses smoothed away by that one compliment, one voice finally who had confidence in her.

~

This is for Trifecta‘s prompt for the third definition given of confidence.  I’ve used the stated word in my post as required and it comes in just under 300 words.  I enjoy the challenge of these prompts as it hones my skills, especially when it comes to discipline.  Please feel free to give friendly critique in your comments.

Trifexta: Letter of Apology

Brevity is not my strong point so this weekend’s Trifextra is definitely going to be a challenge: a letter of apology in a mere 33 words.  I think most of my sentences come in around that word count.  Here goes:

~

Dear Grandma

I’m sorry about hitting your guests with a bat; I just wanted to know who had the wooden leg.  I’m sorry that was mean and I won’t do it again.

Jo(e)