The exercise:
Write an epitaph for either one of your own characters or a character in a book you're reading at the moment.
This prompt was inspired, in a roundabout way, by something Archi suggested as a prompt. I'll use her actual suggestion sometime soon :)
Mine:
Red Five from Tagged
Here lies our dear Red,
I can't believe he's dead.
So quick with a can,
He could tag your left hand
While kindly shaking your right.
He will be most missed
For his strength to resist
The evil powers;
In those dark hours,
He was my daring red knight.
So long and rest well,
My street artist rebel.
Know the war is won;
What we'd begun is done.
I'll tag one for you tonight.
5 comments:
That's a nice epitaph for Red, I think he'd appreciate it. I wonder if he'd tag his own headstone before he died though?
I think I shall provide EmmaB's epitaph as complement then, though I have noticed your request for more about the Green Lightbulb :)
Epitaph for EmmaB
You always hated roses, so I offer none,
You fled romantic shadows 'til they'd gone,
You loved your salted caramels,
Eating them in bed,
I'll always remember you in shades of Red.
Sweet EmmaB, diplomatic wizard,
Buried here with her pet lizard.
Oh, maybe it's selfish writing two comments here today, but the air-con in the office is broken and disinclining me to do any work. They say it'll be fixed by lunchtime, by which time I think I'll be medium-rare. I'd sigh despairingly but I'm already dangerously dehydrated....
Epitaph for the Green Lightbulb
Dr. Septopus looked at the flickering headstone with a beady black eye and clacked his beak thoughtfully.
"You know, Sylvestra," he said, "I rather thought that his powers would die with him."
Sylvestra, dressed in a sleek, satiny black gown that emphasised her natural curves shrugged. Nearby, the vicar who was supposed to conducting another funeral service swallowed hard, stumbled forwards, and plunged into an open grave on top of a coffin. No-one noticed, the men being just as captivated by Sylvestra and the women glaring at her with unremitting hatred.
"The Green Lightbulb never could do anything quite right," she said. "Even in death."
"I wonder if he was really dead though?" said Dr. Septopus, laying a bunch of samphire on top of the grave and then scurrying back. The samphire started to wilt as the green radiation blasted it.
"I don't recall him having the power to breath under six feet of earth," said Sylvestra, "so it's probably just a technicality now. What did you have inscribed on the headstone? I don't care to get close enough to read it."
"He wrote it himself, actually, it was in his will."
"And what was it?"
"Here lies the Green Lightbulb, most highly flavoured son of his parents. In life he was a man to be bespectacled, and his career showboated his unicorn talents to the outermost. He was loved much more than Sylvestra."
"Shouldn't you have at least corrected the spellings for him? And taken out the obvious inaccuracies?"
"I thought about it," said Dr. Septopus, starting to worry as the samphire caught fire, "but then I realised that this truly reflects what we'll remember of him."
"I think we should leave," said Sylvestra, "I think the grave is starting to bubble."
She linked an arm with four of Dr. Septopus's tentacles and the pair ran across the graveyard to their waiting chickshaw at the gates.
Ooh, good idea. Methinks I'll borrow your interpreted-borrowed prompt idea and use it for a poem...
Except not tonight. I can't think this late... I'll post linkage tomorrow.
Greg - I'd forgotten about the lizard! Nicely done, I liked the inclusion of the caramels :)
And oh muh gawd:
""Here lies the Green Lightbulb, most highly flavoured son of his parents. In life he was a man to be bespectacled, and his career showboated his unicorn talents to the outermost. He was loved much more than Sylvestra."
Awesome.
g2 - I look forward to the result :)
http://writing-wrambler.blogspot.com/2009/06/sop-6-because-i-could-not-stop-for.html
Result link posted, as promised!
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