Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Write in the ADVENTURE genre (05/24/07)
TITLE: A Matter of Perspective
By Janice Cartwright
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The reason I know this is because I checked with Merriam Webster for verification. “Adventure,” the words read, “an undertaking involving danger and unknown risks, an exciting or remarkable experience.” Or for the verb entry, “to proceed despite risk.”
Affirmative: they’re all there, even down to the ‘for instance’ phrase’, “an ~ in exotic dining.”
Exotic indeed. I once read about a strict warning Erma Bombeck gave her teens concerning the refrigerator, “There is no known navy-blue food!”
This is no longer the case, Erma; I have identified it as macaroni and cheese. Dangerous food, but food nonetheless, though you will have to mine the navy-blue to find it. But be advised it may upon discovery - like some other, previously horizontal leftovers that learned to stand alone - feel the need to offer resistance. Whereas months ago they were peaceful, feeling perhaps only a smidge anxious at being thrown out, now they are ready to fight for existence. Proof my fridge qualifies of the genre: the encounter would be for the intrepid only, never the faint of heart.
If perchance you are easily discouraged, you may now desire to flip pages. On the other hand our trek through the refrigerator may not have satisfied the hunger for adventure that has been building. In that case we still don’t have to take a trip, at least not a very long one, because only a few yards down the hallway lies uncharted territory in my closet.
Since my walk-in features such carnivorous concerns as shoes known to eat their own odor-eaters and musty belts with a memory, a flashlight and machete are necessities. Never having heard the adage, “Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord,” they may be seeking some of their own.
Also suspect are coat hangers that don’t cotton to other coat hangers. These could do some heavy damage to anyone interfering in their disagreements.
Once I thought for certain I’d met David Livingston, confirmation for a suspicion of mine word had got around my closet is the place for adventure. Gave me quite a start. But it was only my husband’s old hard-hat on the shelf and some work khakis I had cut off at the knee hanging beneath. Coincidental and adding just that needed touch to the vision, his hiking boots were parked strategically under the khakis. I still feel a mite queasy when I ponder that experience.
Come to think of it, in view of this I‘m not sure but what I’ve had enough adventure for one day! Of course if you’d rather, there’s still the litter box. On second thought, not even Captain Blood has backbone for that. I think I’ll step out the door after all and have a tame adventure with fire ants. Care to join me?
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