Sunday April 24th, 2011

The exercise:

Today I think we'll go with: digging deep.

I spent most of today making fence post holes with Kat's dad, using a two-man auger that looked similar to this.

It didn't much care for any rocks in came in contact with, and it was rather awkward to move from hole to hole, but it got the job done. So now we've got posts all the way around the garden and tomorrow we'll be stringing the wire fencing between them.

So the Canucks just lost game six. At least they made it to overtime on this one. Their final chance in game seven comes on Tuesday night. I think I'll just stay away from the computer during the game and find out afterward what happened.

Mine:

When the dig team unearthed the ancient collection of hand tools, excited whispers battled with dust particles for air space. It was the first sign in over a week that they had been working in the right place. Efforts were redoubled, break times were ignored.

When they discovered the box brimming with silver and gold coins later that evening, searchlights were brought into service for the first time and bed rolls were forgotten.

A few feet deeper they found a seven foot by three foot slab of metal covered with runes and phrases in an unknown language, and this only spurred them on again. Crowbars and wooden levers were brought to bear in the middle of the night. There were no thoughts of stopping.

It wasn't until the slab was lifted open and the demons came shrieking and howling out from beneath it that they realized they might have dug a little too deeply.

5 Comments:

morganna said...

Analyzing thoughts and feelings,
Deciding exactly how he feels,
Writing it all down in rhyme,
Digging deep is a big job!

Watermark said...

Digging Deep

The therapy session was proving to be a bit of a challenge. He stole a glance at the clock hanging on a papered wall, ticking away one slow second after the other and tried to stop himself from cutting the hour short. He was tempted to just head towards the door and never to return. His breathing was short and forced. His heart was pounding against his chest as if he had been doing cartwheels all morning. Fresh air, that is what he needed and the room just seemed to be closing in on him. He had known that it would be hard, the therapist had told him so, just not this physically hard. No matter how far he pushed himself, he could not bring himself to recall that period of his life. He knew that therapy was all about digging deep but talking about his experience as a child was something he was not prepared to discuss. He had put the travelling circus days behind him. All he wanted to focus on was his life as a failed comedian.

g2 (la pianista irlandesa) said...

Forewarning: This got kinda long... but oh well. I'm toying with using a scene like this at some point way down the road with a project I'm working on (which is gonna be an extension of those abandoned theater pieces I did months ago. Thought you'd like to know).
- - - - - - - - - -
Inspector Graham seated himself opposite Alsi. "Now, why were you down in {such and such area}?" Alsi said nothing, keeping her gaze on the Inspector's folded hands on the table.

After a patient pause Graham sighed. "I'll ask again, Miss Ziel: why were you in {area}?"

"Am I in trouble?"

The Inspector's expression softened, but only marginally. "Miss Ziel, I never said you were."

"Never said I wasn't, either."

He typically frowned on such civilian reticence, but he saw no need to reprimand this one. "Very well. Assuming you weren't causing any trouble, no, you're not in trouble."

Alsi nodded and relaxed a little. But only a little. She had to choose her words, present her story just-so.

"So what were you doing there?"

"Studying some of the buildings. Research."

"Are you an architecture student?"

"Informally, yes."

"Are you enrolled at the university?"

"No, can't afford it."

"Then how--"

"I read about the buildings in the library then go to look at them myself. Same as anyone in the university save the tuition and the certificate."

"I see." Efficient in her answers, Graham thought, answering only what was asked of her. "But why study the buildings in the Fringe? Why not the {central bit}?"

"Everyone studies those."

And for good reason, he thought. "I understand that you're interested in these buildings, Miss Ziel, but I strongly suggest that you stick to just the books, if not drop the matter entirely. It's safer that way."

"How safer?" she asked, but a glint in her eye let on that she knew the reason---or at least *a* reason---why perfectly well.

"There are certain things civilians shouldn't go nosing around in. Some of those things are in certain pockets of Fringe neighborhoods. You were in one of those pockets. I'm giving you a courtesy heads-up, but should you get caught again I'm almost certain you won't get such courtesy again." Graham rose and opened the door to dismiss Alsi. "I'm not saying your pursuits have to stop completely, but just keep in mind: nothing good ever becomes of those who dig too deeply for their own good."

g2 (la pianista irlandesa) said...

PS: Ignore the little weird markings (the {}, **, and so forth... I started this in a text document and those're my markings for stuff to fix and format later...

Marc said...

Morganna - well said :)

Watermark - I love how you described his discomfort. He sounds like an interesting character - I hope we'll hear more from him!

g2 - well I am now even more intrigued by that story than I was before. Will we get to see the rest of this project?