Definition

1. Infested with lice: lousy.

(Ref: Merriam-Webster Online, Word of the Day, 2 September 2020)

Use it in a sentence

There was no telling what the boss would make of the boy. The kid was a lout alright. Never stopped squirming, always making faces, sticking his fingers in things. His cap was always on crooked, and his buttons all done up wrong. He was scrawny, but you could tell he was a fighter. He’d hold his own in a scuffle.

I pushed him in front of me, towards the boss. The kid slapped my hand away, like he was swatting a fly, so I cuffed him on the ear. ‘Oi!’

The boss just looked at me, then at the boy, then back at me. He sniffed and raised his chin right up, looking down his nose at me.

‘Where in heaven’s name did you unearth this one? The scrap yard, I should imagine.’

A small cough/laugh escaped against my will. ‘Nah sir, he was skipping in and out of the stalls at the market. Caught him stealing an orange. He’s crafty. Thought he might be useful to you… for your.. er… work.’ What the boss did with these boys was not his business.

The boss prodded the boy with a silver tipped cane. ‘Turn around.’ The boy scowled but did as he was told. The little bugger could sense an opportunity.

‘He’s rather pediculous,’ the boss said, squinting through his eyeglass and screwing up his nose. He stepped closer and then reeled back with an anguished face, when he caught a whiff of the boy.

‘Erm, per… pid… what’s that, sir? I don’t rightly…’

‘Lice!’ the boss roared. ‘He’s riddled with lice! And God knows what else!’ The boss was clearly disgusted by the state of the boy. But still, I could see he was interested.

‘Oh those! Wash right off, those. He just needs a good, cold bath. He’ll be a sweet cherub once he’s cleaned up.’

The boss raised an eyebrow, incredulous, but he made a decision. He flicked me a coin. ‘On your way, scoundrel. Despite the filthy state of this boy, you’ve done well, I think. Leave him with me.’

The boy turned to give me a smirk, half triumphant, half afraid.

‘Right you are then, sir. I’ll be off.’ I winked at the boy, and turned to go. I glanced behind me as I left. The boss was smiling now, leading the boy away, with a tentative arm over his shoulder, his disgust overcome.

Definition

1. Beg, sponge.

(Ref: Merriam-Webster Online, Word of the Day, 20 August 2020)

Use it in a sentence

‘Can I cadge 20 mins. Maybe 30?’

Since time became a commodity, there were always shady characters hanging outside the office door, begging for time. Usually they were those young corporates who needed just another 10 minutes to close the deal, just another half an hour to finish a presentation, one more hour to play with the figures. Desperate creatures with blood shot eyes and loose ties. I usually just shooed them away.

But this beggar just looked like an ordinary guy. T-shirt and jeans, sneakers. He pushed his fingers through his long fringe, and puffed out a long breath, waiting for my answer. His face was drawn into a frown and he folded his arms tight around his chest.  

I narrowed my eyes at him. Without smiling I asked, ‘What do you need it for?’ I’d accrued at least 12 hours using my half-hour monthly bonuses. I was saving for a whole day.

He perked up immediately, hopeful. Now he was jittery and talked fast.  ‘Oh man, you wouldn’t believe how much you’d be helping me out.’

‘I didn’t say I would, yet. What do you need it for?’ I asked again.

‘Okay, okay.’ He stilled himself. ‘It’s my wife.’ He stopped and looked at me intensely, as though he were trying to decide whether he could trust me or not.

‘Go on.’

‘She died.’

I stepped back a little, as though struck.

His eyes filled with tears as he continued. ‘Early this afternoon. She died in hospital, while I was out working. I couldn’t stop working.’ He was shaking his head, perhaps at the folly of it. He told me he was cutting lawns when his wife finally succumbed to her illness.

‘You can’t NOT work these days. You just won’t be able to eat or buy petrol. I mean, I’m only eating once a day as it is.’

I thought about the half-eaten sandwich shoved down in the bottom of my suitcase, soon to be thrown in the bin.

‘My boss doesn’t hand out any time bonuses. I’ve got nothing extra. All I want is 20 minutes to buy a bunch of flowers and bring them to her before she dies.’ He violently swiped the tears from his cheek. ‘I’ve got the money for the flowers. I got an advance. I just need the time so I can go back to this morning and give them to her. She loved them – daisies. I wanted that to be the last thing she saw.’

He grabbed at my jacket, fierce but not aggressive. Desperate. ‘Come on man. You know you can only borrow for the same day. Withdraw it, and give it to me. Come on. Come on. I’ve been standing here the whole afternoon and all I’ve heard is no, no, no.’ His eyes were wide, his hollowed-out cheeks cast shadows over his mouth.

Without saying a word, I removed his hand, but nodded. He threw his head back in relief.

‘Thank you, man. I mean, you’ll never know how much this means to me.’

We went to the Automatic Time Machine, and I withdrew six hours. ‘Here take it. I don’t have a wife, but if I did, I’m pretty sure 20 minutes would never be enough.’

Again, I stepped back as he lunged forward to hug me, sobbing. I pat his back awkwardly, embarrassed. If it was all bullshit, then this guy was an award-winning actor. Then he turned and faded out, returning to this morning for a bunch of flowers and the last few hours with his wife.  

Definition

1. One’s strong point
2. the part of a sword or foil blade that is between the middle and the hilt and that is the strongest part of the blade.

(Ref: Merriam-Webster Online, Word of the Day, 23 August 2020)

Use it in a sentence

After several spent matches and copious amounts of huffing and puffing, the kindling finally took, and soon there was a modest fire blazing in the stone firepit. Relieved, Becca took her place in the circle, under the barely contained contempt of her fellow witches. She ignored them as she adjusted her gold, asymmetrical crop top. One arm was bare, the other encased in a long sleeve. The other girls had told her that the tops, together with the tight white jeans, were impractical witch uniforms – sitting around in the local Scouts park, they were soon coated in dirt and leaves, and sometimes dog poo. And frankly, the synthetics were a danger so close to the fire. But she had insisted. She didn’t want them to be a cliché – all in virginal long dresses. Pfft! Becca looked around the circle. Virginal and pure? This lot?

‘Ok, now everyone hold up your mobile phones.’ Becca waited several minutes as they keyed in pin numbers or used face recognition to log in. Then there were the inevitable pings and beeps, alerts from Twitter/Snapchat/Instagram/Tinder.

When they were all ready, they turned on the torch function on their iPhones and held them aloft.  Becca cleared her throat. This was her forte – giving solemn and rousing speeches, at once uplifting, motivational and empowering. She drew herself up straight and looked up at the night sky.

‘Fellow Modern Girl Wytchez. We come here tonight to pay homage to our spirit guides, Google and Amazon, and to worship our deity – Modern Technology. We promise to sign in, log in, register, and upload, and regularly change our passwords using numbers, symbols and uppercase letters. We pledge to always download all available software updates, to maintain a thorough malware and virus check program, and to post content to multiple social media platforms all at once. We vow to never bully, catfish or gaslight anyone using our privileged, enlightened position.’ Here, Beccy paused to look pointedly at a couple of the girls who smirked but stayed quiet. ‘And we promise never to post, sell or publish nudes, or send them to unworthy males.’ There were a few audible groans, but Becca ploughed on. ‘We endeavour to always use our skills and abilities for good, and not evil. We pledge to only post choreographed and rehearsed content to TikTok, and we will be vigilant against bad reviews, reporting, and blocking actions. We must upgrade regularly and maintain our hardware integrity. Modern Gal Wythchez – are you with me?’

‘Yeah.’

Becca shouted suddenly, ‘I can’t hear you, bitches. Are you with me?’

‘Yes!’ they shouted back, a little startled.

‘Then gather around for one epic selfie!’