The exercise:
Write about: a plaything.
Showing posts with label Play Prompt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Play Prompt. Show all posts
Thursday April 25th, 2013
The exercise:
Write about: the play.
This morning I finished transplanting our cabbages, and then after dinner I seeded a couple rows of salad blend and arugula. In between that, Kat did some potting up of tomatoes in the afternoon. Feels good to be making some progress on that stuff.
Oh, here's a picture of some blossoms in the orchard:
Turns out? A side benefit of working in the evening is passing through the orchard just as the sun hits magic hour. It may take me a little longer to get to the garden, but hopefully I'll get a few print/greeting cards out it.
Mine:
The audience sits in the darkened theater, restless and fidgety with no gadgets to absorb their focus. No words are exchanged, as all attempts at small talk between neighbours died off long ago. All eyes are on the motionless red curtain standing between the attendees and the play they have come to see.
It seems as though they have been frozen like this for hours, but a mere handful of minutes have passed since the lights went down. Nervous coughs begin to fill the air and are soon joined by the clearing of throats and awkward swallows of excess saliva.
No one dares leave, though surely many are tempted to do just that. They have paid hard earned money for their tickets, they have read rave reviews. Likely they have told friends about tonight's entertainment, perhaps even bragged about the quality of their seats.
But they have not been let in on the secret. They sit and they wait and they grow uncomfortable. They wonder and they check the time and they expect the curtain to be raised. Any moment now. Can't be much longer.
And they are utterly unaware that, from this side of the curtain, they are the show.
Write about: the play.
This morning I finished transplanting our cabbages, and then after dinner I seeded a couple rows of salad blend and arugula. In between that, Kat did some potting up of tomatoes in the afternoon. Feels good to be making some progress on that stuff.
Oh, here's a picture of some blossoms in the orchard:
Turns out? A side benefit of working in the evening is passing through the orchard just as the sun hits magic hour. It may take me a little longer to get to the garden, but hopefully I'll get a few print/greeting cards out it.
Mine:
The audience sits in the darkened theater, restless and fidgety with no gadgets to absorb their focus. No words are exchanged, as all attempts at small talk between neighbours died off long ago. All eyes are on the motionless red curtain standing between the attendees and the play they have come to see.
It seems as though they have been frozen like this for hours, but a mere handful of minutes have passed since the lights went down. Nervous coughs begin to fill the air and are soon joined by the clearing of throats and awkward swallows of excess saliva.
No one dares leave, though surely many are tempted to do just that. They have paid hard earned money for their tickets, they have read rave reviews. Likely they have told friends about tonight's entertainment, perhaps even bragged about the quality of their seats.
But they have not been let in on the secret. They sit and they wait and they grow uncomfortable. They wonder and they check the time and they expect the curtain to be raised. Any moment now. Can't be much longer.
And they are utterly unaware that, from this side of the curtain, they are the show.
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