Friday September 2nd, 2011

The exercise:

Four lines of prose about: the boot.

It was really great having help with the harvest today - it went so much quicker. I'd love to have two extra helpers every week.


He undid the bow around the box with his long, slender fingers, his breathing forced into a regular rhythm. The lid fell to the floor, revealing a single black steel-toed boot. With a tight smile he removed it from its home and placed it on his right foot.

Standing, he moved awkwardly towards his desk - it was time to give his aging computer the boot.


Greg said...

Heh, I like the detail you squeezed into four lines today; the whole thing suggests so much interesting back-story. The rhythm of the breathing and the tight smile bring the protagonist to life, for me.

The boot
The Prince stood on the stairs, watching Cinderella flee into the night. Behind them, the chimes of the castle clock rang seemingly unceasingly, perhaps chasing her away. Then he realised that she'd left something behind on the steps.
"I shall marry the woman whose foot fits this..." his voice faltered slightly as he looked at what he'd picked up, "...size 11 steel-toecapped foul-smelling workman's boot!"

Virginia Llorca said...

Jenny gently directed Barney toward the bed. "Sit," she said in so soft a pleading voice, and she knelt before him and began to unbuckle one of his dusty trooper boots.

"What are you doing?"

"I have to take your boots off."

Marc said...

Greg - I suspect the whole Cinderella story would be quite different with that one little detail switched around :)

Virginia - if Greg thought *mine* suggested an interesting back-story, he'd surely think the same about yours. Consider me intrigued!