"Blend"

I had the worst blender in the entire world, bought in Atlanta at the local Big Lots next to Wendy's for $9.99,on sale.



I used it every morning because I was determined to get a little healthier. I regretted buying it once I used it because it sounded like I'd put in a sack of nails, even though I'd added ice, and a few bananas and strawberries.

The sound was so loud that the neighbor next door would bang on the door and shout

"Pamela, turn that thing off. It's too loud!"

"Not as loud as those ugly neon purple shorts you wear every day," I muttered under my breath, even though I could shout it to the rafters from where I stood, and he would never hear me.

I would never say it loud enough for him to hear and comprehend...

Because how do I say such a thing to a man who walks around dressed liked that, and stands on the street corner, crying and muttering to himself:

"The world! The whole world! It's just too loud!!"

And no one pays him any attention. The cries and wails blend in with the honks and stereo bass of the passing cars.

The thing is, I don't say anything.

I don't say a word.

I just let my blender go a few seconds longer, and I try to be content with my smoothie that's thick with bits of fruit and chunks of ice that could have used a little more time in that blender.

And early the next morning, I'll blend.



I will simply blend again.

From March 9, 2012 Women of Color Workshop. Writing prompt: use the following four items in a story. (7 minute time limit)

1. blender
2. Wendy's
3. Pamela
4. Neon purple shorts