Unconscious Mutterings plus fiction

I have started doing Unconscious Mutterings - Lunaniña's free association meme, but used the resulting twenty words in a poem just to do it. I had it on another blog, but realized it belongs here, with my other short stories and poems. Today, I wrote more of a story than poem. . . actually more of a poem than story, actually, it is just thoughts that poured in my head. . . all fiction, but then, fiction can be so relaxing. . . and it is Sunday. So, I give you, the actual meme answers and the thoughts that Lunaniña's original words provoked:

  1. Acoustic :: guitar
  2. Sanity :: rules
  3. Mambo :: sambo
  4. Session :: music
  5. Hound :: dog
  6. Cat :: ballou
  7. Coward :: me
  8. Trunk :: flies
  9. Hold me :: please
  10. Psychological :: trauma

    He strummed his acoustic guitar
    much as he had run his thumb
    along the ridge of her shoulder
    as she laid in his arms the nights before.
    His thoughts were on her, they always
    returned to her.

    "Mambo sambo," was Sara's favorite
    dis. . . she would say, "that's just
    mambo sambo," the way someone else would
    say, "that's just crap ," or
    he would say, "that's just hockey puck."

    Sitting with her legs curled up beneath
    her as read a trashy novel while
    he played his session music
    was how she spent her Thursday

    On Fridays she sang
    out in anger her altered version of
    Elvis Presley, "You ain't nothing
    but a hound,
    working all the time."

    No, she did not stop there, but
    compared whoever walked by next
    to Cat Ballou, or the Lone Ranger,
    or Hanky Panky -- not in her head
    or whispered quietly to him,
    but out loud in a breathless speech
    pattern, in an attempt to gain
    attention. Anyone's, at any expense.

    If she met him for dinner and he arrived before her
    she would slink up to him, put her finger
    in the center of his chest,
    let her eyes meet his and then slide them down his
    whole being,
    laugh out loud,
    then blurt,
    "You coward,
    Me trunk,"
    mimicking in reverse,
    Tarzan's voice.

    No, he would reply,
    "Me brave,
    you drunk."

    At which, she would slide her body into his arms
    there, in public. . .
    and whisper into his chest,
    Hold me, please. . .

    Psychological trauma?
    repeatedly. . .
    by a friend wanting to be more.


    Please, no need to copy my words, you can write your own that will suit your personality!

    (Yes, Leon is just shaking his head in almost disbelief this stuff comes out of his wife's head. . . but then if I were perfectly normal. . . well, I wouldn't really be me!)
I have decided to move my Unconscious Mutterings meme play and poems to this blog, but am leaving my first attempts where they were. If you are curious what came before this, click.


Clockworkchris said...

This does seem a bit like a stream of thought that serves no purpose at first, but I love it, and it's very sensual. I would never be so brave as to say what I was thinking or do what I wanted to in public or out loud. Awesome.

Marcia (MeeAugraphie) said...

Clockworkchris - Neither would I, that's why I wrote it unconsciously, perhaps? Thank you for reading 'til the end and commenting.

In my words:

This is but a one-sided conversation;
it takes you to make it more.

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