Monday September 28th, 2009

The exercise:

Today's prompt: exceeding expectations.

I got a rather positive bit of feedback today at work... and then ended up writing the below. Yeah, zee mind is a strange place some days.

Okay, most days.


Expectations were running high
As the bronze chariots drew nigh.
The huddled peasants gathered round,
Mewling pathetic, hope-filled sounds.

From our viewpoint in the castle
We saw them kill without hassle.
Onward the poor folk proceeded,
Our expectations exceeded.


Greg said...

Hehe, those are some very upset peasants then! Or possibly all your chariot-drivers were over-indulging in hallucinogenic substances?

Well done on the positive feedback!

Exceeding Expectations

"Miss Haversham?" Pip's voice quavered as he tried to attract the attention of the extremely large woman in the tattered wedding dress. She sat at the head of the banqueting table, her head in her hands, glaring ferociously at the table.
"Miss Haversham?" he tried again. She grunted and tugged at a greasy lock of hair falling across her face.
"Miss Haversham, at the door just, were such gentlemen of strange demeanour! They intimated that they wished to discuss things of a religious nature with me, possibly at length, and observed with quiet reverance and dignity that they were of the select witnesses of our Lord, the God, in his guise as eternal Jehovah."
"Paedophiles!" snorted Miss Haversham, her bulk wobbling as she lifted her head. It came slowly as though winched by an unseen crane, and tiny eyes buried in folds of fat dripping over her cheeks fixed on Pip.
"What, Miss Haversham?"
"Hah, never you mind Pipsqueak. What did you tell them?"
"As you instructed, Miss Haversham, I asked them to wait a moment and then ran to the kitchen to procure a pan of boiling water from the cook. I brought this back as hastily as I could without spilling it and diligently threw it at them."
"Pip, my boy, you might be as retarded as a brain-damaged seagull with its head nailed on backwards, but you are living up to my Great Expectations of you. Indeed, my sweet, you are exceeding my expectations."
"Thank-you, Miss Haversham," said Pip looking a little puzzled.
"As a reward," she said, heaving herself to her feet and ignoring the squeal of relief from the chair she'd been sat on, "you may let little Estelle out of the root-cellar and play with her for half-an-hour."

Monica Manning said...

“What are you doing?”
The question was redundant, as it was clear that my kid brother was doing absolutely nothing. This was further evidenced by his shrugged response and caveman grunt. He wore his usual tattered track pants paired with a sleeveless undershirt that bore stains from at least a week ago. His socked feet rested on the coffee table. A toe, bearing an overgrown toenail, poked out.
“Mom’s gonna freak if she sees you like this.” Again, he shrugged.
I rolled my eyes, but sat down on the opposite end of the sofa. If the Golden Child was going to get in trouble, I wanted to be a witness.
Why is it, I wondered, that the youngest child always gets away with the proverbial murder? In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if he was acquitted should he actually commit such a crime. I sat next to him, fuming, my arms folded tightly across my chest. My jaw began to ache as I clenched and unclenched my teeth. He, conversely, sat and mindlessly flipped through the channels on the television, pausing occasionally to snigger at some childish cartoon.
I could hear the march of my mother’s footsteps. Given it was Saturday morning, she would be in Cleaning Mode and barking orders at everyone in site. I smirked as I envisioned the scenario that I knew was about to unfold.
She strode into the living room, a laundry basket brimming with freshly folded clothes under one arm. She glanced over as she crossed the room, never breaking her stride.
She stopped abruptly when she reached the threshold to the kitchen, turned smartly around and gaped at my brother.
“Well!” she said. “This is a surprise.”
I did my best to cover the smile that spread across my face. I occurred to me that I was far too excited about this.
“I really didn’t expect you to be up until after noon. Let me make you something to eat.” And off she went, laundry hamper under her arm, humming quietly to herself.
I turned and gawked at my brother. He grinned back and shrugged.
“You see,” he began, before I could even start my tirade, “if you keep your standards low, it really takes no effort to exceed expectations.”
He leaned back in the sofa, pressed the forward button on the channel selector.
I nodded slowly, as comprehension began to fill me.
He turned a looked at me.
“I have a few people I wouldn’t mind getting rid of.”
He grinned back at me and shrugged.

Marc said...

Greg - thanks, and I love the Great Expectations spin off :)

Monica - ha, that made laugh several times. Fantastic ending too :)