Three Minutes Talking to a Ventriloquist

Normanday #63: I couldn’t get a word in.

 

Write for three minutes about…

 

…the ventriloquist you met while standing in line at the movie theater.

 

Email what you wrote to woof at bright dot net by the end of the day February 17 (put “Norman Flosses After Every Meal” in the subject line). I’ll post as many of my favorite entries as I want next Monday. Include your first name (or, even better, use a pen name) and age (unless you’re tortoise-old). If you’re a published children’s or young adult writer, include a biography to be posted with your entry.

 

Here is the single entry from last week when I asked you to write for three minutes about…

 

…a memory of something that happened in the kitchen.

 

 

Tren Rewy Steb

Mom on one side, I on the other, the electric griddle between us on the counter. I stood on a chair to watch as she poured the batter into circles on the silver surface and to wait for the first signs of bubbles. First one, moving up from the bottom, rising to the top to pop. Then another and another, until a whole outbreak of bubbles exploded. Helpful pancake sidekick, I pointed out when the bubbles ran out of room. Time to flip. Pancakes are still my favorite food.