Friday September 27th, 2013

The exercise:

Write four lines of prose about something that is: invisible.

For the second consecutive Friday I'm going to bed hoping the weather forecasters have got Saturday totally wrong. That worked pretty well for me last week, so maybe I'll be fortunate again.

Unlike last weekend, it's definitely going to be too cold (and likely too wet) for Max to be there, so he and Kat are staying home. I'll miss them both, but I'll be happier knowing they'll be warm and dry, with plenty of room to crawl around.

That last one is mostly for Max, but I'm sure Kat could squeeze in some yoga too.

I will catch up on all these comments I'm desperately behind on, by the way. Just not tonight.


The weight of it pushes me down, makes getting out of bed a battle legends are birthed from every single morning. It follows me all through my day without fail. Sleep offers no escape, for it slithers under the sheets with me and holds me close until dawn's arrival.

Day by day, slowly but oh so surely, these expectations are killing me.


Greg said...

Good luck with the weather, and I hope you don't spend the whole morning wishing that you were at home crawling around on the floor as well! That image is... well, a bit disturbing to be honest!
Heh, the only thing that stops me getting out of bed in the morning is the ache of the previous morning's workout, but yours sounds much more worthwhile. I should be a better person, clearly!

Dave swore as he cracked his shin on the invisible table. Or sideboard, or magazine rack, or footstool, or vase-table or curio-cabinet.
"Do we have to have invisible furniture?" he said, rubbing his leg and glaring at his wife.
"It keeps the place from looking cluttered, dear," she replied.

Aholiab said...


I wish I could be like some of the normal Invisibles, like the ones that all the fancy restaurants hire to see when you drop a napkin or need a drink refill. You didn’t think the normal waiters watched that closely did you? Every industry hires us to do things you don’t want to see - special effects in Hollywood blockbusters aren’t done by remote control or robotics, but by an Invisible actually driving the car, or moving the levitating plate, or holding the hero up to the ledge so he can “hang there in space”. Unfortunately, I’m the stereotypical one that has to stride up to that visiting ambassador and slip my knife blade between his ribs.

Marc said...

Greg - hah, yes, I suppose that's not something any of you wish to be thinking about :P

Oh my. Don't let Kat hear about this invisible furniture business or she'll be all over it!

Aholiab - what an interesting world you've introduced us to here. Feels like many, many stories could be told here.