Friday April 3rd, 2015

The exercise:

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

Because life can be strange and uncooperative at times, the thing I mentioned that I was anticipating didn't happen today. It might still happen, just no longer sure when.

Don't worry, it has nothing to do with the blog or my writing or anything like that. It'll all be much clearer once I can talk about it in detail. Until then... as you were.

Did some more work in the garlic this morning, with a little bit of help from Kat and Max (mostly Kat) when they came out to the garden for a visit. Hopefully one more session will get that finished off.

Looking forward to doing Easter-y things with Max this weekend.


She gathers the wreckage in her hands, counting the pieces as she goes. There's really no reason to number them, but she does it anyway. It is soothing, somehow.

And anything that helps to ease the pain of losing her grandmother's snow globe is more than welcome.


Greg said...

It's something you're looking forward to, and should have happened last night, but you don't want to talk about it until it's happened. I'm going with alien abduction and I'm going to guess that you've ploughed out the wrong message in the orchard :)
That's a poignant little piece, with the punchline delivering a neat little kick. Nice work!

"Mirror, mirror, on the floor,
Don't you dare call me a whore!"
Snow White turned on a heel and flounced out of the bedroom, leaving the shards of glass from the magic mirror strewn across the stone floor. Clearly it had been a mistake leaving in the bedroom she used for... entertaining, but she would have expected manners from it at least. As she started down the long spiral staircase to the throne room, she wondered for a moment why breaking a mirror would be considered to bring seven years of bad luck.

Anonymous said...

The hammer had weighed at least the same as me, the man wielding it putting twice the force behind the hunk of metal and wood. I could still feel the aftermath of the crash into my legs, mixed in with all the pain of splintered bone and crushed muscles.
They thought they could break me by taking away my legs, but these primitive Starrgyns don’t know of the power arms can generate. I bite my lip against the pain, struggle to sit up, and nock my arrow onto my bow.

Nikhil Nair said...


It fell with a resounding crash, a multitude of fragments skipping and skimming across the neatly polished floor.
I looked coldly at the five men, all who now wore sheepish expressions on their faces.
"Well now, isn't this a nice surprise?" I said. "You all have a fine dispute over who caught and cased this magnificent fish, yet it shatters in a way I've only seen replicas do."

Marc said...

Greg - that's a fine guess. That's all I'm going to say about that :P

Ah, I do enjoy your twists and takes on classic stories. This one is absolutely no different!

Ivybennet - ouch. Just... ouch. Also: love the determination that shines through at the end.

Nikhil - interesting take on the prompt; the intriguing twist at the end definitely caught me off guard!