Jennetta Younge - Writer

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[jennettayounge-writer]

At nearly 79, I am excited to be enrolled in my first online semester of my #MA at @snhu #creativewriting #graduateschool program. #poetry #shortstories #memoirs #creativewriters #creativewriter #maturestudent #gradschoollife #gradschool #maturewriters #blackwriters #womenwriters https://www.instagram.com/p/CL48DVZDS8J/?igshid=1ss529clqhyhw

[jennettayounge-writer]

'At first people refuse to believe that a strange new thing can be done, then they begin to hope it can be done, then they see it can be done--then it is done and all the world wonders why it was not done centuries ago' - Frances Hodgson Burnett, #TheSecretGarden 🖌Inga Moore via Twitter/ Read More Women #quotes https://www.instagram.com/p/B0GsDc8HAjV/?igshid=pps30vybnhl

[jennettayounge-writer]

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I love plants! 🌱 #Repost from @natashayounge using @RepostRegramApp - Mom's hands can make new plants feel right at home. . . #mom #weekendvibes #weekendfeels #sundayvibes #sundayfeels #plants #greenthumb #homeplants #indoorplants #meditation #nature #mothers #caring #love #beauty #enjoythesimplethings https://www.instagram.com/p/Bv9pDoqngwa/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1ruxg9mmjoavi

[jennettayounge-writer]

I’ve been quiet here over the past month healing from knee surgery. But writing is never far from my mind. ‪#author #amwriting #blackauthor #novel #poetry ‬ https://www.instagram.com/p/Bsi0ROunMBn/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1k08bhpq32ed5

[jennettayounge-writer]

I’ve been quiet here over the past month healing from knee surgery. But writing is never far from my mind. ‪#author #amwriting #blackauthor #novel #poetry ‬ https://www.instagram.com/p/Bsi0ROunMBn/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1k08bhpq32ed5

[jennettayounge-writer]

“The Split” -  a serial short-story

Part Four

Brent narrowly missed running over the neighbor’s black Labrador.  The heated argument and the cold February wind stung Brent’s eyes.  He entered the motorway like a man possessed.  The speedometer registered seventy miles per hour on the twenty-five mile per hour entrance.  Yet, Brent did not ease his foot off the gas pedal.  He violated every traffic rule.  He could only think of the insults Pepper had hurled at him.  

Brent floored the accelerator.  The engine of the sporty red and black MG responded as he weaved in and out of the traffic.  He did not notice that the signs on that stretch of road had changed since he had last driven it: it was now two lanes instead of one.

This particular stretch of road was not suitable for speed; the bends were too sharp.  Normally, Brent would have been able to handle such a minor oversight.  He had a standing membership with the Hollyhead Speedway Racing Club where he had spent the rare weekend reviving the engine of his MG on the soggy five-mile track taking the sharp curves at ninety miles per hour.  Anger and speed, however, do not mix.  Suddenly, Brent could no longer negotiate the bend.  

Brent’s hands gripped the steering wheel. His knuckles popped out as if they were about to break through the skin of his fleshy hands. Brent misjudged the sharpness of the bend in the road. He pumped the brakes to no avail. He tried desperately to regain control of the car, but it was already too late.  A wave of sickly fear engulfed Brent’s body as he braced himself against the rigid seat.  His two-seater lurched forward and somersaulted like a gymnast doing a triple tumbling pass. The sports car came to rest on the bank of a stream.

To be continued…

Copyright 2018  Jennetta Younge

[excessivebookshelf]

“As you read a book word by word and page by page, you participate in its creation, just as a cellist playing a Bach suite participates, note by note, in the creation, the coming-to-be, the existence, of the music. And, as you read and re-read, the book of course participates in the creation of you, your thoughts and feelings, the size and temper of your soul.”

— Ursula K. Le Guin

[livinglowercarb]

[fangirl-in-a-world-full-of-books]

I’m beginning to wonder that if, when we call a woman crazy, we should take a look at the man by her side, and guess at what he has done to drive her to insanity.

Louise O'Neill, The Surface Breaks (via fangirl-in-a-world-full-of-books)

[imaf00die777]

Somethin’ healthy . 😋💚🍴

[iambrillyant]

“darling,

never disrupt your blooming process to water someone else’s garden. you’ve worked too hard on yourself to compromise your growth for anyone who doesn’t grow you.”

iambrillyant

[elladesignlife-blog]

[jennettayounge-writer]

“The Split” -  a serial short-story

Part Three

Pepper, however, felt Brent had become too fond of sitting, which did not help his bottom. To compound matters, his partiality to dark brown ale did not help his spongy waistline. Cricket may have been Brent’s favorite sport, but he had little time to participate in sports these days.  He spent long days at the office every week, and by the weekend, there was no way he could find the energy to run up and down between wickets with a pad strapped to his shins. Pepper thought he looked as though he had begun to spread like dough that has been left rising far too long.

“Don’t you think it’s time you do something about your weight?” Pepper asked Brent as they sat on the sofa.

“What did you say?”

He was a bit surprised at the question.  He thought Pepper loved him the way he looked. He was just fine with his body.

“Your neck looks slightly inflated these days…” Pepper said, closing the door of the refrigerator. Brent’s eyes flashed the hurt he tried to hide, and his face took on the color of the setting sun. Prompted by Brent’s silence, Pepper’s mouth parted and the words gushed out like a broken water main.

“Your eating is out of control, Brent. The midnight runs to the Shish Kabob restaurant, and never mind all the Toblerone Bars, and beers. Do you even care that your belly is beginning to hang menacingly over your belt?”

“I’ll ignore your acid remarks, thank you very much,” Brent replied.

 Pepper had been waiting for the opportunity to break up with Brent, but the time was never right.  This weekend, however, Brent had made plans for them to visit his family –without consulting her.  

“I am sick and fed-up with you thinking for me,” Pepper announced loudly.

“What does that mean? I thought we had a good relationship…,” Brent said.  

“Your mother treats you like a schoolboy, then she pokes her nose into our business.  I don’t care if you are her only child-,” Pepper replied.

“What’s eating you? My mother did spring the invitation on us a bit late, but we do go out most weekends with your friends.  And I never leave you home like what some of my friends do to their girlfriends-,” Brent said.                                  

“Forget what your friends do or don’t do. Your mother is overbearing and her stuck-up attitude grates my last nerve,” Pepper informed Brent. “I need a change,” she concluded and swept her long, brown hair away from her face.  

Brent could not believe this was happening.  He clenched his teeth and looked at Pepper through the narrow slits of his eyes.

“Pepper, you’re unreasonable,” Brent seethed, “I could say the same bloody spiteful things about your mum, but I’m too much of a gentleman.” With that, he grabbed his coat and stormed out the door without so much as glancing over his shoulder.  

To be continued…

Copyright 2018  Jennetta Younge

[quiet-nymph]

Photography by alexis.marcellin_photography

[er-cryptid]

The beautiful thing about learning is that nobody can take it away from you.

(via er-cryptid)

[the-fashion-alba]

[jennettayounge-writer]