All Edna Wilton had ever wanted to do was go somewhere. Anywhere. Feel the suns of distant cities bronze her skin. She made plans. Visited travel agents and acquired brochures, charting courses between home and the exotic locations laid out on glossy pages. She even collected a shelf's worth of foreign language books, learning how to ask for coffee in a dozen different tongues. And all the while, after seeing friends off on their adventures, Edna stayed behind, watching cats and watering plants.
Those plans of hers. For one reason or another, fate never seemed to be on Edna’s side. Too little money, not enough time. Conflicts of schedule, and interest. She finally gave up, waving a white flag of defeat, while unfairly, everyone else she knew seemed to be waving goodbye.
When, by chance, Edna saw the ship’s propeller, she knew she had to have it. Salvaged off of an ancient, well traveled freighter, and now resting heavily in the dirt, just inside the chain linked boundary of a junk yard fence, the cost to have the massive fan-like piece of steel and aluminum alloy delivered and deposited in her back garden was about equal to what she’d paid for it. But then again. No price was too high for so tangible an artifact that represented every sea Edna hoped to sail, every shore she’d ever pictured herself setting foot upon.
Edna likes to sit beside her propeller, and touch the blades. Imagining the possibilities, when hardened metal and salt water come together. It’s the stuff of dreams.
Phonaesthetics — the pleasantness or unpleasantness of words without concern for the meaning. This week, one of your offerings is the phrase “cellar door”. “Cellar door” is considered a perfectly euphonic phrase, some say the most beautiful in the English language.
Image courtesy of Thor Carlson (via Flickr Creative Commons)
So “cellar door” and a propeller… use either or both to craft your piece. Happy writing!