- Widowmaker noun
- (‘wi-dō-mā-kər)
- that rotten limb hanging off the lofty, half-dead white oak in your backyard, creaking in the wind, detaching fiber by groaning fiber, perched directly above your mindless husband as he chuckles along to his favorite comedy podcast, toiling away in the wormy and fragrant sod, planting forget-me-nots.
Tim Boiteau is a Writers of the Future winner and lives in Michigan.
Clever. Can imagine a whole new dictionary!
Thanks for commenting. The fictional dictionary would definitely be a productive avenue for writing prompts.
“ planting forget-me-nots”
This is great! Always love your stories.
Thank you for the sweet comment. Brought a smile to my face.
Widowmaker Revisited
Leaning in the shade of the doorway to the back yard, her back to the grimy floor and a sinkfull of dishes, she casually glances at the small saw kerf on top of that rotten limb as she takes one last drag and flicks the butt toward her deadly nightshade. (50-Words)
Love the incongruity between the ominous limb and comedy podcast.
Haha. Excellent. Never imagined this would turn into a franchise…
You just never know! Thanks for the great prompt!
The best definition I have ever seen for a word in my 20 years of teaching English! Fantabulous, Tim! 😊❤️
This made me laugh devilishly. Thank you!
This is incredibly well done. Congrats, Tim :-)
Perfection! I live in a house surrounded by oaks and pines. The words ‘creaking in the wind’ and ‘detaching fiber by groaning fiber’ is spot on. Your vivid descriptions not only created a clear mental image, I could actually ‘hear’ the sounds.
Then you seemlessy switch to humor with the ‘comedy podcast’ and
the ‘forget-me-nots’ payoff. And you make the wildly creative choice of presenting the story as a dictionary word. Bravo!