Wordzzle on dreams continued

Over at Views from the Raven's Nest, a Wordzzle challenge is posted weekly. The basic idea is to use all 10 words provided in a short paragraph (plus mini challenge words if you can). More information can be found here.



This week's words are (Tibetan sky, symbols, won’t you come home Bill Baily, shadow figures, brain cortex, practice makes perfect, life, start of school, lavender, chow down) with a mini challenge of (mental hospital, falling leaves, apple cider, packing crates, clues).

My way of doing this is to read all the words and look for a few things I can tie together and then just start writing. The more difficult words I then go back and find places to insert. This week happened to turn into a continuation of last week's wordzzle.

Leaving this town to make a life for herself was out. So she would just have find the clues to making a life here. No, she hadn't managed it yet but practice makes perfect, right? You can't fail until you stop trying... But how would she do it? The people in this town depressed her and she was pretty sure half of them didn't have a brain cortex. There were more than a few people here that had to have been in the mental hospital at some point (and only one had a good excuse, having been witness to a Tibetan Sky burial which is only not traumatizing if you're Tibetan or at least IN Tibet at the time). Still, as hard as it was to like them, she felt there must be one among them she could talk to. If only she could find the one.

She walked home from the restaurant, picking a little lavender along the way and turning it in her hand. Fall was definitely in the air now and the tourists were arriving to watch the leaves turn. On Cedar Street the laborers were packing crates with apple cider. She stood under the falling leaves watching them for a few minutes. It occurred to her that it was almost time for the start of school but, being so far ahead anyway, she wasn't sure yet that she'd go this year.

A few streets away on Pine she could here the music starting for Fall Festival. What was that song? Won't you come home Bill Bailey? Hmm... Maybe that was it. She never really joined in the festival much. There would be the inevitable bad palm reader who turned every funny curve of the lines in your hand into symbols representing hokey futures of fortune and fame (which are not much fun when you already know you can't have them). There would be street performers making shadow figures and every kind of fried food you could chow down on. Today she would skip it, being unable to pretend she saw anything in that life. Maybe tomorrow...