Friday August 17th, 2012

The exercise:

Write four lines of prose about: the procedure.

Heading to the market tomorrow morning with another big load of nectarines (haven't counted the crates yet, don't really want to), a good selection of cherry tomatoes and berries, and quite possibly the most green beans we've ever brought to a farmers market.

It'll be interesting to see how much of them I'll actually be able to sell.

Thankfully I won't be totally on my own, as a friend of Kat's has agreed to come help me out for a while. If nothing else, it'll let me get some shopping done and maybe even sit down for a few minutes.

I'll let you know how it goes.


They promised him that it would be a simple procedure, one they had performed countless times before without any complications. Recovery would be a matter of days, if not hours. They swore that just one operation would result in complete correction of the issue.

And he, fool that he was, believed them.


Greg said...

You need a recipe card for something that combines green beans and nectarines to give away free with every crate of nectarines sold! I'm imagining a salad I think, with pan-fried-then-sliced nectarines mixed in with green beans, a light, peppery leaf (rocket? radicchio?), perhaps a handful of halved olives (for those who like them) and a slightly-sweet, sparse dressing (because the nectarine juices are going to dress the salad as well). Perhaps a splash of balsamic vinegar.
Or something.

Anyway, that's a nice use of procedure in the story, with a subtle threat hovering on the horizon like a stormcloud. Very nice, in just four lines!

The procedure
Miss Snippet viewed the firedrill procedures that her class had written, illustrated and submitted as their homework. She was intending to put the best up on the walls of the classroom.
When she realised that every procedure had three lines discussing how the people leaving the buliding would be billed before they were allowed to leave she found herself a little teary-eyed. When she found three that discussed how to make the bodies of the poor people look like they'd refused to leave she finallly felt she'd taught her class something.

Marc said...

Greg - all right, chef, you're hired :P

We'll set you up with a little demonstration cooking station next to our stall. It'll be great!

Ah, those young lads and lasses are bound to go far. Assuming they survive their time with Miss Snippet.