Sunday October 28th, 2012

The exercise:

Write about: the professional.

Long but productive day. Finished the garlic work in the garden this morning before turning my attention to the car in the afternoon.

Cleaned it out, added coolant and windshield washer fluid, and finally got around to installing the car seat. I am not a big fan of the manual that came with it, but I got it figured out eventually.

We're pretty much set for baby at this point. Feels like the waiting game is really beginning in earnest.

What follows is not what actually happened today. But I have little trouble imagining it.


The hobby mechanic
Is under the hood,
Banging and clanging
And up to no good.

The hood comes crashing down,
His head starts to throb;
His wife sweetly reminds:
"Don't quit your day job."


Greg said...

I'm tasked with reminding you that it's still your turn on How the Best was Won, and that you might have no time at all for writing very shortly :)
That out of the way, it sounds like another productive day for you. I've heard other people complain that baby-seats are hard to install in cars, so I don't think your struggles are any reflection on you :)
Heh, poor hobby mechanic. I'm sure that happens more than people would care to admit to!

The professional
Miss Snippet, along with the other teachers in the school, were sat open-mouthed with outrage and horror listening to the headmaster speak. Next to him on the stage was a meek-looking young woman with bright red hair, an impudent grin, and a bag of salted caramels in one hand.
"...and so to help us improve standards I've decided to bring in a professional to show you all how to teach properly. She will show you how to keep control in the classroom, the most efficient ways to set and mark exams, and, er... um." He turned to the young woman on the stage. "It says here "set up honey-pot traps, ensnare drug-lords and flee from temporally appointed authorities?"
"That's right," said the young woman. She tossed her hair back over her shoulder, but it fell forward over one eye again.
"She's a professional," said the headmaster in a loud voice, trying to reassure himself.
Miss Snippet grinned. This seemed like the kind of professional she could support whole-heartedly.

morganna said...

The detective sighed. Tracking these two was like trying to catch a bat in a darkened room. It knew what it was doing, you couldn't see a thing, and every once in a while you made a futile leap at a shadow that hadn't been there a moment ago.

He was sure he had found them after the mysterious accident at the police station in Kent, and he did find more than shadows, but the girl was gone and the boy was dead, or so they told him at the lodgings he thought they had been living at. Someone else had gotten to the poor kid first. He'd need to ID that body, but first he had a thug to interview.

The thug had driven a car into the station, an apparent attempt to kidnap the girl, but she had gotten away. All he knew was that 'someone' had hired him to grab the girl, but she was a clever b**** and got away.

The detective could find no trace of her outside a couple blocks of the police station. He wanted to find her desperately now. It was obvious that some very dangerous people were after her, and he cared about her beyond his job. It had gone beyond catching criminals. He had grown to like her in the past year.

Iron Bess said...

In the middle of hurricane Sandy, or as I call her Sandzilla, still have power, just. Will write later if I can. Iron Bess

Marc said...

Greg - ugh, that's been on my mind again lately. I shall try to make something of all that mental occupation.

Sigh, and a reminder of Tagged as well. You're enjoying this, aren't you? :P

Morganna - ah, so very pleased to see another installment in this saga! Another intriguing development too.

Iron Bess - keep safe, and all the best to you and yours.