Monday December 7th, 2009

The exercise:

Decided I needed another day off - I really haven't been getting enough sleep the last few days. Had a better sleep last night, so I'm feeling better today. Lots of resting on the schedule, so I should be back at work tomorrow.

Let's get Monday started with this prompt: too much enthusiasm, not enough talent.

Mine:

The man logged off his computer and pushed himself away from his desk. In one smooth motion he spun in his chair, picked up his duffel bag from the floor, and rose to leave his cubicle at a brisk walk. He nodded to his coworkers as they headed for the lunch room, brown paper bags clutched in their hands as if they were nervous school children.

The man did not join them, however. Instead he took the elevator down to the lobby and exited the building. He paused to soak in the natural light before joining the flow of sidewalk traffic heading east down Tenth Avenue.

He arrived at the small park and was surprised to find that he was the first to make it there - yesterday he had been the last. He checked his gleaming silver watch to confirm the time and shrugged before taking a seat on the raised concrete that edged the flower garden. With another look around he bent to unzip his black bag.

Pulling the djembe drum from its black confines, he reverently placed the African mahogany beauty between his knees. He had paid top dollar for the drum at a specialty shop on the south side but he knew it was worth every penny. He had done his research.

Still finding no sign of the others he had played with the day before, he decided there was no need to wait. He closed his eyes and began to play.

His fingers beat against the goat skin drumhead for the rest of his lunch hour, his eyes remaining blissfully shut. When he stopped at last and glanced around, he was surprised to find that not only had his fellow players not shown up, but the sidewalk around him was quite devoid of onlookers.

He shrugged and returned his instrument to its bag and returned to his office, already making plans to seek out his fellow musicians at other locations in the neighborhood the following day.

3 Comments:

Greg said...

Heh, your nameless man is clearly very good at what he does, getting rid of people, although he doesn't realise it! It's a lovely piece though, the wealth of detail transported me somewhere nearby, with my fingers in my ears wishing I was elsewhere!

Too much enthusiasm, not enough talent

It's a tap class, thought Sarah, bouncing up and down trying to keep time to the music, how hard can it really be? The key signature of the music changed again and the cannons boomed, and she tried to tap even faster and even harder. She was out of breath, red in the face, and sweating like a racehorse, but there was no way she was quitting tapping, not now she was in the groove. But why this piece of music? she wondered as her legs, burning with lactic acid gave way beneath her, why the 1812 Overture?

morganna said...

He dug the scoop into the ice cream slowly. This was his first day at the ice cream store, and he wanted to get his first cone right.

He scooped out a nice round ball and plopped it in the cone. He remembered the manager telling him to pack the cones nice and tight.

He smiled at the little boy waiting for the cone and used the end of the scoop to push as much ice cream into the cone as possible. He scooped another beautiful ball and pressed it in as far as he could. And a third. The cone began to crack. A fourth ball and the whole cone shattered into little pieces. The little boy burst into tears and he stared down at the ice cream dripping everywhere, carrying little pieces of cone with it. What had gone wrong?

Marc said...

Greg - aw, thank you! I quite enjoyed writing it :)

I could almost see your tap performance. It's quite the mental image!

Morganna - ah, a true tragedy! Nicely done :)