Friday November 30th, 2012

The exercise:

You've got four lines of prose. Write a scene that takes place: in the lunch room.

We now have steps leading up to our front porch. No actual, proper front porch yet, but we have steps! And the frame is in place, so hopefully we'll get some decking on it tomorrow - assuming we managed to connect the porch to the side deck without any unexpected issues appearing.

And then we'll just have to do the last bit of railing and we're done!

At which point I should probably share some pictures of all this work we've been doing.

Mine:

Look at those slackers, wandering off with their pathetic brown paper bags full of homemade crap. They'll probably spend the next hour blathering on about reality TV shows, celebrity gossip, and their precious little families.

Who has time for all of that nonsense?

My lunch room is my cubicle.

5 comments:

Greg said...

Wow, the porch and decking sounds like it's almost there! Although I do like this idea of steps that just lead up to a drop, it's possibly a little dangerous with a small child in the family :)
And yes, we want to see pictures!

Oh but your prose today seems achingly familiar. On those days when I get to have lunch :)

in the lunchroom
Miss Snippet was only teacher who could control the lunchroom. The children filed in in silent lines, took their food with a pained rictus of gratitude, and filled the tables up by taking the next chair and not sitting with their friends. They ate quickly without talking, and the subdued mood lasted for a couple of hours after lunch. Miss Snippet, of course, had a secret.

writebite said...

nice one
marc, you need a barn raising crew to get that job finished :)

The Lunch Room

There was the usual clatter of cheap dinner ware and plastic cutlery in the hospital cafeteria. Since 9/11 they got rid of the steel knives; couldn’t even trust hospital staff, it seemed.
The career women in the white coat with the stethoscope draped around her neck jostled for a place at one of the Laminex tables, finding purchase on the only remaining seat opposite a swarthy younger man in green hospital scrubs.
They looked up at the same moment - their eyes met -with irises dilating and lashes set a-flicker in rhythm to a tachycardic heart beat, she figured she had just enough time before she was due for her next consult...

Marc said...

Greg - eat your lunch!

I suspect Miss Snippet has many, many secrets.

Writebite - a barn raising crew would be pretty sweet, actually.

Nicely done, particularly the bit with the 'lashes set a-flicker' :)

g2 (la pianista irlandesa) said...

"Chuck, you're middle-distancing again, what're you thinking?"
"You ever notice Arty never goes to lunch? Folks assume he's a last-out-first-in kind of guy---you think that, I know you do---but I've never actually seen him leave his office, and once when I came back his office---only his office---was dark, and he was just kinda frozen or something, then 'came back' when folks started showing back up, d'y'think---"
"You've been watching too much Inspector Spacetime again?"
- - - - - - - - -
I can't say I've seen Community, but I am an avid Doctor Who fan, and you can start thinking about things in crazy ways after seeing enough of it.

Marc said...

g2 - hah, yes I could see Doctor Who playing absolute havoc with one's imagination :D