Friday May 30th, 2014

The exercise:

Write four lines of prose about: the woman who wouldn't go.

Just felt like abusing the fact that I don't have to be specific when labelling my Friday posts.

All eight rows of the strawberries have now been weeded. We celebrated this evening by enjoying our first sample of the berries we've been working so hard to help thrive.

There are still two and a bit rows left to mulch but that's going to go a lot faster with two people working on it at the same time.

Day off tomorrow, as we'll be attending the wedding of one of Kat's high school friends. Seems like a decent reason to bother shaving this mess of a beard off of my face.


I have asked her to leave, many times. Politely, insistently, with great and blustery anger. Nothing has worked, as you can see for yourself.

She lingers at the edges of my mind, hitching rides with innocuous thoughts, seemingly intent on haunting me for the rest of my days.


Greg said...

You might not have to be specific, but now we're all completely curious as to which woman this was, and where it was that you were trying to make her go! Or... maybe you've got a battery-powered scarecrowess and you couldn't get her started this morning?
I'd forgotten that you do shave occasionally :) Will Kat remember what you look like under the beard? And will Max still recognise you?
Ah, a nice touch with yours, with the inability to leave being entirely mental. I rather like that and wish I'd got there first.

The woman who wouldn't go
"She's been eating solidly for forty-eight hours, Doctor!"
"Then we must be getting our stool sample soon, nurse. Thank God for the twenty-four-hour all-you-can-eat Mexican Buffet that opened opposite our office!"
"I don't know, Doctor, it's been forty-eight hours as you said, and she still hasn't gone!"

Marc said...

Greg - heh, entirely fictional prompt this time around, but thanks for asking :)

Max found it rather amusing, just like last time. Kat was appreciative, and encouraging me to not let it get out of hand again. I try, I do...

Ugh, your interpretation of the prompt. Just... yuck :P