Thursday February 19th, 2015

The exercise:

Write something that has to do with: identification.

Another morning spent at the play cafe. It was a bit quieter today, which was nice - for both of us, I think. Max seems to do better one on one with other kids, and there were more opportunities for that this time.

It's been a pretty long week of mostly looking after Max, so I'm very much looking forward to having some time to myself tomorrow.


It took a long, long time for the forensic team to make a positive identification on the remains. The damage was that complete, the subject so unrecognizable. To be honest, it's surprising that they stuck with the investigation long enough to uncover the truth.

But stick with it they did, like the true professionals they are. I can only imagine the waves of nausea they fought back when they first saw the remains. The depths of their disgust as they began to poke and prod must have been staggering.

Such admirable tenacity. Bless those brave fools.

For at last, in the end, the kids did manage to reveal that the meal on their dinner plates was, in a previous life, chicken with a side of roasted vegetables.


Greg said...

Sounds like Max might be a little more on the introvert side of things than extrovert if he prefers one-on-one to group conversations; I think that's a good thing, but then I'm an introvert myself :) But it also sounds like you have a slightly easier day when Max gets the fewer-other-children thing, so that's the important thing!
Hmm, I thought Mr. King was still influencing you until I got to the end and found out that you were just influencing yourself. Nicely done, and if chicken with roast vegetables can be that hard to identify I'd rather not meet the chef. Or their cooking. Or the victims of their cooking. Or... it just continues :)

Isabella Bonfontaine half-smiled. The stroke she'd had some years earlier meant that the left side of her face was pretty much immobile, which she used occasionally to her advantage. She constructed her make-up quite skillfully so that the right side of her face appeared warmer and friendly, but the left-side had a slightly cold, almost icy quality. Now, with the once-impish smile appearing only half-way across her face, she looked like she belonged in a Disney film playing the part of the Evil Queen.
"We're close," she said.
"Close to what?" asked the woman tagging along beside her. Despite Isabella's advice she was wearing high-heels and a silver, knee-length evening gown. There was a string of pearls wrapped twice around her neck, and her hair looked to have taken hours to style.
"The Erisian temple."
"The temple to Eris," said the woman. "The Goddess doesn't like flippancy."
Isabella nodded, aware that Eris was considered to be the Greek Goddess of Chaos and probably not at all bothered about how her name was used as an adjective, and let it slide. The woman, Haggatha, was paying for this expedition after all.
"Well," said Isabella, "this is a fallen lintel judging by its length and where it's broken, and you can easily see the shadows where letters were incised at one ti–"
"Broken?" The woman sounded shocked.
"...time. But the important bit is this round shape he–"
"It can't be broken! The temple to Eris isn't a ruin!"
"... here. I'm sorry, what do you mean? The temple was built over three thousand years ago."
"But Eris protects it!" Haggatha stamped, and the heel of her shoe snapped off with a sharp clicking sound. Isabella hid her smile, something much easier to do when only half your face tries to smile anyway. "My shoe!"
"An indication of the presence of Chaos?" said Isabella smoothly. "Look, this is the temple. We can photograph the lintel and I've got some image processing software to help us read the letters, but this is my job. I know what I've found."
"No! You're wrong! Find me another temple!"
Haggatha whirled, her pearls clattering as angrily as her shouting, strode forwards and disappeared into the earth in a cloud of dust the roar of rubble falling down an open hole.
"But this is the one you want," said Isabella softly. "Though I'm not sure it really wants you."

Marc said...

Greg - yeah, he's taking after his parents in that regard. It seemed for a while we might have an extrovert on our hands, which would have been very surprising.

Really enjoyed the back and forth in yours, and how smoothly everything is conveyed - the characters, the setting, their reason for being there.