Below, find another entry for Trifecta.  This is for the third prompt this week:

"Write a 33-333 word response to the song featured below. There are no other requirements for this prompt. Just use the song to inspire a creative response."

“Randy, have you cleaned your room?”

“I’m getting to it mom!” Randy rolled his eyes at his little brother as they sorted baseball cards.

“You promised me yesterday you would have it cleaned by supper today!” Randy’s mother appeared in the doorway, dishcloth thrown stereotypically over her shoulder.

“I know mom, but I had that report on A Separate Peace  due today, and tomorrow I have to stay after school for Mr. Gordon’s extra credit fiber optics project for science class.”  Randy met his mother’s eyes with what he hoped was his most earnest stare. 

His mother sighed, ”All right, Randy, but by Friday evening, I want this place spotless.”

Randy nodded vigorously, “No problem, mom, Friday, definitely.” 

After his mom disappeared down the hall, Randy turned to his brother, “Want to go ride bikes?”

“How do you always get to do what you want?” his brother asked, admiration written on his smooth, round face.

“Easy, dude.  Just remember: tomorrow’s just an excuse away!”

Another entry...

This is another entry to a Trifecta prompt.  There are three this week. This is a response to the second one, which requires the use of the third definition of the following word:

Score

3a: an account or reckoning originally kept by making marks on a tally

  b: amount due : indebtedness

The marks on the wall told a story.  It was a dull story, but it was his story; at least, of his last five years.  It was a story of sunrises and sensets bracketing hours of mind-rending boredom punctuated by stark, raving terror.  

It was his own fault.  His own reckless stupidity.  A night of drinking, careless words, then the broken bottle and skull. 

He wondered what became of the girl he had fought over, as the sun dipped low and cast barred shadows on the opposite wall.  He sighed, his shoulders remaining slumped after the exhale.  It was no use pondering such things.  It was time to add to the lopsided score of man against time.  It was time to make another mark on the wall. 

First time: an entry.

So, the first post in what may be a somewhat ecclectic collection of writing is a writing challenge entry.  Thanks to Trifecta for creating these prompts.  This weekend challenge is thus:

"...we're asking you to retell your favorite book. In 33 words." 

Straight forward, no?  So here goes:

To be grounded, you must be crazy. To be crazy you must want to fly.  Catch-22 works because it doesn’t exist . The only way to survive is to be insane oneself.