Friday April 11th, 2014

The exercise:

Write four lines of prose about: the drought.

I'm in Penticton for the weekend with my family, as Kat is, at long last, taking a pre-natal yoga teacher training course. She's been wanting to do this for years but the timing, cost, location, or considerations for Max had not been in her favor.

It's a three day intensive course, which began with a two hour introduction tonight. We're staying at her aunt and uncle's place in Penticton, which is vastly better than having to drive back and forth each day. We'll be back in Osoyoos Sunday evening; until then I'll be updating on borrowed Wi-Fi.

I'm happy to say that I was able to get Max down to sleep for the night while Kat was at her course and there was very minimal extra fuss involved. That's the first time that no nursing was really involved in the process (Kat nursed him before she left, but that was at 7 and he didn't get to sleep until around 8:30).

I'd say so far so good at this point.


I watch dust devils dance in the front yard as droplets of sweat slide down my forehead and leap off the tip of my nose. Suicidal maniacs... I envy your escape from this place.

Leaves as brittle as the Dead Sea Scrolls are floating around and around as those devils in the brown grass slowly but surely tear them into a million miniscule pieces, with not a cloud in the sky.

Maybe the rains will return tomorrow.


Greg said...

Well done on getting Max down! It sounds like an interesting weekend for you both, too.
I love the reference to the Dead Sea Scrolls in your writing today. Very apt! And the whole piece does a good job of conveying waterlessness too, which makes me thirsty when I read it....

The drought
Bad Kitty grunted as she turned the red-painted handle on the pipes. Slowly, as painful as her back, the wheel turned, screeching and squeaking in protest, closing off the water to the building. She allowed herself a congratulatory purr and brief grooming with her tongue, knowing that Aquaman and the Aquafamily would just be discovering their sudden drought within minutes. She'd show them what Evil really was!

Anonymous said...

The river beds had turned to sand: small, course, frustratingly dry sand. I heard the women crying in response to the innocent questions asked by the children hanging on their skirts. I only felt boiling hot rage gurgle from within me, my own demonic spring that could never quench me.
What did that pipsqueak do to have the gods abandon us so?

Marc said...

Greg - thanks for the kind words on mine :)

Ah, Bad Kitty returns! With a suitably diabolical plan, it seems to me.

Ivybennet - that is a rather chilling ending to your four lines! Really nice work here, almost feels like an opening to a much longer story.