Wednesday May 18th, 2011

The exercise:

Let's go with: the necklace.

The Canucks came through with a big win tonight to go up 2-0 in their series. The next two games will be played in San Jose, so we'll see if they can keep their momentum going in enemy territory.

Another day of garden and yard work in the sunshine today. Tomorrow we'll be focused on preparing for Saturday, when we attend our first farmers market of the year. We're really looking forward to being back there.

Mine:

I open my eyes and confusion sets in immediately. Where am I? How did I get here? And what - I'm not sure I want an answer to this one - is that smell?

With an effort that feels far too taxing, I sit up and look around. I appear to be in a small cave, the opening about ten feet away, a large fire burning between me and there.

"I must be dreaming," I mutter as I push myself off the dirt floor. My vision swims a little but otherwise I'm doing okay. I take a step towards the cool night air and then stop as a man enters the cave. He has a thick beard, is shirtless, and a necklace of human teeth is clinging to his throat.

But I still recognize him.

"Dad? What's going on here?"

5 comments:

Greg said...

I guess the farmer's markets are a kind of highlight really, because you get to see all your hard work laid out in front of you, and other people show respect for it by purchasing it. Kind of like an art exhibition, only tastier :) I hope the one this Saturday is a great start to the season!
And, Go Canucks!
Interesting scene setting, and the necklack of human teeth is fascinating. You have an... odd... family!

The necklace
Charles Ascugimento, Head of Building Security, swiped his card through the wall-mounted reader and waited while the hydraulics hauled the seven-tonne door open. There was a faint hiss as air pressures on both sides equalised, and then he walked through, into the detainment room.
A young woman, her mascara smeared into black streaks by her tears and her lipstick thoroughly ruined after the arresting security officer had pushed her face into an ornamental grille, looked up. She was sitting at a steel table on a three-legged stool. Her high heels, each broken at a different height, were discarded on the floor beneath it.
"You stole a necklace," said Charles, stopping just inside the doorway.
"I was just looking at it!" She sounded on the verge of hysteria.
"The owner of the shop felt you were acting suspiciously. He called security and asked us to detain you. When we approached, you threw the necklace to your accomplice and ran."
"I dropped the necklace when your uniformed apes charged at me!"
"And it was picked up by your accomplice."
The young woman stared at Charles, her eyes darting from side to side, hunting for an escape from this nightmare. "What accomplice?"
"There was a man whose clothing suggests he might be peripatetically mendicant--"
"The homeless guy? You think I was associated with him?"
"The Building does not allow vagrants to enter unless accompanied by a responsible adult."
Charles's face was implacable, and he stepped backwards until he was on the other side of the door again. He swiped his card, and hydraulics started pushing the door shut again.
"To disabuse you of the notion that my staff are uniformed apes," he said as the woman vanished from view, "we will be releasing six apes into this room with you for twenty minutes. I'm sure you'll be better informed afterwards."

Heather said...

Marc- I share your characters confusion. What happened to bring her to this point? It feels distinctly of time travel.

Greg- I can't help but to like Charles, although I would never want to encounter him.

Ummm, mine is a bit long. Good for me, but not so good for you.


The Necklace

Marc said...

Greg - it turns out I wasn't finished writing about cave dad :)

That was a great ending. Charles appears to have a keen sense of poetic justice :D

Heather - well I say good for you *and* good for me too! I'll be over shortly :)

Aholiab said...

The Necklace

Sue removed her necklace from the jewelry box and ran her fingers across it. It wasn't the most stylish piece that she owned, but it was probably the most valuable, and definitely had the most sentimental value. She touched each coin in turn, seeing the dates signifying when it had been minted. It seemed a lifetime ago when her father had given her the first tiny, one-tenth ounce gold eagle coin at her college graduation. He had joked that this was the start of her retirement fund, but it had actually been the start of a charm necklace. Whenever she had a major milestone in her life, she added another matching coin for that year.

Now as she examined the dates on the coins, she remembered the events that corresponded to the year. The year after graduation marked her first real job. The economy had been difficult, so it had taken longer than she had expected. As the year had come to an end, she had splurged and bought the coin to mark her success.

The following year she had met Mark, fallen in love, and married him. She still marveled at how quickly their lives had merged and blended. Before the year was out, she had bought her third coin to add to the necklace.

When Margaret was born, her husband presented her with a coin at the hospital. This one was from China with a tiny panda as its emblem - the first teddy bear for their new daughter.

Over the years there had been gaps. The first year without a coin was when Mark had lost his job. There had not been a lot to celebrate that year. Another was when there second child, Jeremy, had been injured in a football accident. He loved sports so much, and the months of rehabilitation following his surgery had been stressful on him and the whole family.

Some years it had been difficult to decide if the celebrations out-weighed the disappointments. Should a year that included her father's death as well as her son's playing in the state football playoffs be marked with a coin? The heartbreak at losing her Dad had been so profound that she had decided to omit that year from her necklace.

And now she came to this year. Again, she would not be adding a coin to her necklace. She placed it back into her jewelry box and closed it. She picked up the small box next to it and opened it, gazing down at the single gold coin on the delicate chain. This year it was her daughter's turn to start her own memory necklace as she graduated from college.

Marc said...

Aholiab - what a neat idea for a keepsake. And I really liked that the tradition will continue with the daughter.