The exercise:
Our four lines of prose this week shall be inspired by: the harvest.
We're spending today getting ready for our first market of 2010, which is tomorrow morning in Penticton. We've already harvested the potatoes, cabbage, and peas; tonight we'll be getting into the kale, chard, lettuce, carrots, beets, strawberries, rhubarb, onions, and herbs. On top of all that, we'll also be selling cherries from the orchard.
Oh yes, there will be pictures.
Mine:
It had been a good harvest, he thought with a satisfied smile as he eased into his black sedan. The vibrating sacks in the back seat were full to bursting and there were another four in a similar state in the trunk. And they had all been so conveniently close together!
Yes, Death thought with a quiet sigh as he put the car into drive, it's always a good day to collect souls when there's ice on the highway.
4 comments:
Are you putting subliminal messages in your posts? :-P I was reading through your comment from yesterday when it struck me that I'd used the word harvest instead of butcher for the deer (not wrong, but unusual), and then today's prompt is harvest. I'm starting to think you're trying to manipulate us poor readers....
Write down any ideas you dream up while weeding; you'll either come back to them, or you'll find ways to incorporate them into other stories. Maybe I shall have to get you one of the helper-monkeys as a wedding gift so it sat beside you while you weed and take dictation!
The range of produce sounds fantastic! Have a great time at the market; I'm heading out to Borough market this morning in fact, a very similar kind of place.
And Death's harvest -- grim but natural :)
Harvest
The children, still tidy from their mothers's ministrations before letting them go to school, stood by their desks. Each child had a small pile of cans, dried pulses, and preservative-laden food stacked there; their contribution to the Harvest Festival food drive.
"Now that's a good harvest!" said the teacher to Mary, who was stood in front of the biggest pile.
"I think mine's just harver," said Bill quietly, stood next to her with only two dried biscuits in his pile.
I stumbled on your website yesterday and decided to accept your challenge because I am a very undisciplined writer who has been neglecting her calling. I have bookmarked you now and plan to return over the weekend to participate in the exercises. I need a good habit to offset all my bad ones.
"the harvest"
The peaches were red and yellow, still in clusters among the long green leaves on the tree. She stood on a ladder propped up against the orchard wall, scanning the rows of trees beyond her reach, convincing herself no one could see her in the growing dark. Last summer, she just waited for the fruit to drop to the ground on her side of the fence but those peaches were all overripe and bruised, imperfect. This year, she was impatient and she reached for the branches that grew closest to her and stole perfect peaches she knew weren’t hers.
Marc- I loved that it was death at the end. Great job! As much poetry as you write, I am more of fan of your prose.
Greg- Fun play on words. I laughed out loud because it completely sounds like something my kids would say.
Brunnhilde- The imagery is beautiful! I hope to read more sometime soon.
Emily stood in the doorway looking over the land. Brittle yellow grasses met her eyes every where they roamed. Only the occasional grown tree broke up the scenery and gave her hope that this would be the last year of drought. Without a strong harvest next year, she would loose everything and be forced to return to the ghettos of the city.
Greg - no, of course not.
*note to self: 'subliminal' would be a good prompt.
Anyway. A helper monkey would be a lovely wedding gift. I'd have him updating this blog in no time!
Your four lines made me smile. I could just hear the way Bill said that :)
Brunnhilde - that is excellent news! Best of luck sticking to it, and I hope this blog will be of some help to you :)
I love the scene your words painted in my mind. Very nicely done, and I look forward to seeing more writing from you.
Heather - thanks very much, and if it makes you feel any better, I prefer writing prose too :)
Great take on the prompt, though I was uncomfortably reminded of how dry it can be here. It's been an unusually wet spring / early summer though, so I think we'll be alright :P
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