Thursday January 24th, 2013

The exercise:

Today's writing instigator shall be: bones.

We got an unexpected call this week from the chef at the Watermark Beach Resort here in Osoyoos. Apparently our friends at the bakery had passed our card on to him and he was interested in meeting with us to discuss making use of our produce in their restaurant.

We'd considered approaching them in previous years but for various reasons never got around to it, so we were definitely interested. We went in this afternoon to meet him and things went well, so it looks like we've got a new destination for our veggies, berries, and fruit this year.

It would appear our next farming season has begun already.


He studies his creation in silence, allowing the cares of the day to crumble to dust. The meetings, the deadlines, the endless reports and spreadsheets. Complaints from underlings and demands of supervisors fall away as a lone finger traces the intricate details of his pet project.

It is not complete, but he finds that less bothersome than usual. For this condition is temporary, he can see that now. An end is in sight, nearly within reach.

He has found the missing pieces.

She arrived last week. Introductions were made by that dolt in Sales. Terry or John or whatever his name is. Unimportant.

Molly. She's all that matters. And those magnificent cheekbones of hers. How long has he searched for them without even knowing it?

The wait is almost over now. Soon his masterpiece will be whole, the way it had first come to him while he slept. Pure perfection.

All that's left is to find a way to get Molly alone.


Greg said...

I wasn't sure what to expect when the prompt was Bones and you started talking about a Beach Resort. I was a little nervous about where you were going to go with that! However, it sounds like a good opportunity, and you're getting known by word-of-mouth which is pretty much the best publicity there is. Congratulations! I hope this all helps with planning what you'll grow next year.

Heh, that seems like a nice take on the Frankenstein story! And just a tiny little bit gruesome with your choice of adjectives all the way through reflecting the bony concerns of the protagonist.

"They're the bones of the building." Charles Asciugimento, Head of Building Security was looking over the blueprints, examining the steel-and-concrete skeleton that everything else either hung on or threaded through.
"This space here." Isabella Bonfontaine pointed with a shaking finger at a narrow, empty part of the page. "What's this?"
"Concrete probably," said Charles, frowning at it. He opened another blueprint, and the pair spent a couple of minutes carefully orienting it to match up with the one they'd been looking at. "This is the transverse section," he said. They both looked at the page, and then at each other.
"That's quite a large space," said Isabella.
"Yes," said Charles. "And on the wrong floor."
"Oh... mostly nothing. There is a secret room up near the top, but I know all about that," he said. "This appears to be a secret room I don't know about. And that's the bad kind of secret. Tell me Issy, what do you think is in there? Surely it can't be an archaeological treasure?"
"Bones," said Isabella. She smiled at Charles. "Three skeletons, transported from France in secret by members of an organisation that the Church thought it had exterminated three times."
"Oh," said Charles. "Them."

g2 (la pianista irlandesa) said...

Everyone has to make concessions to get what they want. Hers is the dreaded office job. The work--particularly entry-level--makes her want to scream, but it pays rent. And until she got the job she really wanted, this will have to do.

The first week was not as bad as predicted; a gent called Steven a few rungs up in Sales introduced himself on the first day. Not always the sharpest tack on the board, but he was dreadfully funny. A week later she bumps into him talking with somebody.

"Molly, this is Frank. Molly's new, just started a week ago."

"You don't say," replied this Frank absently. His eyes are vacantly intense, a hollow pointed stare, which unsettled her. It shouldn't surprise her, but it was probably because they were his eyes. But what an unusual color! They'd be tough to match.

All that next week she has hard time shaking his gaze, but she also has a hard time not noticing him as well. There's something unusual in his face, she thinks, though not entirely unsettled. It was more a matter of figuring things out, really.

The work week was wrapping up on a Thursday-- somehow both Friday and Monday were holidays, or maintenance days, or something--but Molly has a few things to get in order before heading out.

Frank pops by. His shoulders suggest he's on his way out, but his coat is missing.

He's searching for evidence of her departure as well, but instead notices the photo on her desk.

"Your bird?"

She nods. "One of my favorites."

"Oh, so you keep birds?"

"In a manner of speaking. Hobby of mine."

She tries to continue working, but as she hopes he keeps pressing: "Birds?"

"Oh, all sorts of animals. Small ones, mostly, but I never mind a bigger challenge." His expression stays, but his eyes glitter. Such unusual eyes!

"I'd like to see them sometime."

She stands. "Why don't we swing over there now? I'm just around the corner, we could have some tea or something. No time like the present."

His odd excitement is much more difficult to conceal. She knows the feeling well.

Those eyes would be difficult to recreate, but it can be done. It'll take a little longer, he'll have to sit through more, but in the end it's worth the work.

It's always worth the work in the end.
- - - - - - - - - -
So this got real weird real fast. I mostly apologize.

You started it, 'Loo.

Anonymous said...

marc, yay!


The T-shirt was ready, I just had to wait for the glow in the dark paint to dry.
It was dark blue which brought out the blue of his eyes.
The words "bones" was writtien on it, I just enhanced it for Halloween. As a shy child, he wasn't given to big displays, so this was subtle - perfect.

He'd always loved bones. It became a nickname for a time. He collected 52 editions of The Dinosaurs just so he could collect all the pieces to make up a T Rex skeleton. He did the same with The Human Body when it came out. I just wish we'd lived closer to the city so he could visit the museum. It would have blown his mind.

He loved the T-shirt and wore it out.

Then he grew up.
He drew a sketch, freehand, of a frog from a skeletal point of view.
He saved up for a tattoo. He was probably good enough to have sketched that himself, too, but he didn't. Yeah, it was a bony, anorexic and quite Gothic looking goat skull.
He was designing his next tattoo, them being addicitve and all. Skull and bones came to mind. He searched the iconic image everywhere. It's not as scary as it sounds, he told me one day. It means being human. It's a symbol affirming life, it's about humanity.
He got a motocycle.
He's thinking about getting a specially made helmet in black with a stylised skull and bones motif on it in stark white. That'll keep 'em wondering, he said.

It's tracked his progress to date, this bones thing. It's in the blood. I've always been interested in them, too, not to that level, but I sure do understand the obsession.

Marc said...

Greg - yes, I suppose I could have had some fun with the combination of bones and a beach resort. Hmm. Consider it filed away for potential future use :)

This bone transporting organization sounds rather intriguing too! Hmm, I say again...

g2 - I like to think it got real weird nice and slow, actually. But yes, I did start it, and I certainly do not apologize :D

Writebite - I was unaware of the meaning behind the skull and bones, that's quite neat!