Thursday November 14th, 2013

The exercise:

Write about: the electric glow.

Work went smoothly tonight, right up until closing. That was when I realized the remote for the big TVs was missing (there's a second remote that works with the smaller TVs in the gym). I have absolutely no idea where that thing is.

Oh well, at least the gym ghosts get to watch TV all night. I hope they're sports fans.


Pale nocturnal creatures
In hunchback poses;
Thick ugly glasses
Sliding down thin noses.
Drawn to their computers
Like electric magnets,
Dependent on those machines
As though they are pets.

This glow is not flattering,
It is too harsh for that.
If he's repulsive you see it
And if she's fat, she's fat.
But what does it matter,
They mutter in the gloom,
Who cares how we're portrayed
If we never leave this room?


Greg said...

I guess the TVs are mounted too high up for you to be able to reach them and turn them off manually, which must have been a pain. You'll have to find a universal-remote phone-app ;-)
But you're right, the gym ghosts will enjoy the entertainment!
And it's clearly inspired a great poem from you too; the images in there are lovely. I like the rhyme scheme, though I think it wobbles very slightly at the end of the first verse (magnets/pets, because I naturally stress the first syllable of magnets).

The electric glow
So this is the hill where they stood. There were eight of them, all of them dressed in fancy military uniforms, medals arrayed so far across their chests that they needed padded shoulders to support the extensions so the medals could fit on. They stood side by side, wearing the recommended polarised goggles (Armani-brand, naturally) and watched.
Four miles away, the bomb fell from the tower and exploded as predicted, eighteen inches above the ground. The world's first electromagnetic bomb had been successfully tested.
There was no wind. No sound. There was a brilliant flash of light, but that was less than 1% of what the bomb put out, and although it crisped exposed hair, its effects were minimal.
The X-ray and microwave blast was lethal and unpredicted. The bomb had been expected to stay within bounds. The eight observers collapsed to the ground, fatally cooked.
But the further wavelengths still, going almost unabsorbed but bouncing around the world, constantly reflected back between the atmosphere and the ground, is what gives the whole its sickly, fungus-pale, electric glow.
A permanent reminder of our folly.

Marc said...

Greg - yeah, I probably could have dragged a chair around and gotten up on my toes to shut them off... but I also probably could have fallen off in the process and smashed my face on something. Didn't seem worth it :P

Anyway, the remote has reappeared so the gym ghosts will need to find something else to occupy their time.

I did back myself into a corner with magnets there, so I was just looking to escape without looking too foolish :P

Oof, I can just imagine something like that going horribly wrong one day. Nicely captured... and I did enjoy your 'fatally cooked' line.