The exercise:
Let us write about: the widow maker.
When I was out chopping wood this afternoon, Kat's mother came out to bring some back to the house. She jokingly (I think) referred to one of the logs as 'the widow maker', since it's rather precariously balanced. And her husband is not the most careful man I've ever met. For the record, I don't think this log could kill you, but it would certainly mess you up.
Anyway, it stuck in my head, so now we all get to write about it.
Writing is going well. Will update later.
Update: here's day four. Best word count so far, brought to you by the power of dialogue. And Arctic Monkeys.
Update: here's day four. Best word count so far, brought to you by the power of dialogue. And Arctic Monkeys.
Mine:
The dagger he called The Widow Maker was his favorite. He only saved it for assignments in which his target was a married man, more often than not an unfaithful one. He did not often get paid to eliminate citizens with impeccable reputations, after all.
The weapon was a beautiful, custom made affair. Perfectly balanced, never dulled, a handle that made it feel like an extension of his arm. A true work of art. It was no wonder it was his weapon of choice.
