The exercise:
So I've been given a bit of a reprieve from my charity project as my sister Sue is heading away for ten days. She's promised to get me her three words when she gets back and I'm hoping to use the little break to get some other writing done.
Of course I also have to move so... we'll see how that goes.
Anyway. Today! The Four Line Friday Prose topic is: leaving early.
Mine:
Dear Supervisor,
I have decided, with my usual keen eye for detail, that the clocks on the walls of our office are in need of repair. Yes, all of them. You see, they are moving far too slowly - and, strange as this may seem, I believe they move even slower on Monday mornings and Friday afternoons.
So, as far as the clocks are concerned, I'll be leaving early today; but I can assure you that, in all reality, I am actually leaving right on time.
5 comments:
Time is a relative factor, so your/the narrator's perception of time, especially on Mondays and Fridays, is probably what's off, not the clocks. Although, it feels better to blame something other than yourself, doesn't it?
I'm going to be ironic and flip the prompt around, and base it on a poster I saw while touring a music school. Yay!
Arriving Early:
Buddy, my boy, although you're new to the band, I still have to tell you that you're late. Right on time, you say? Son, let me give you some advice I leared a long time ago: "When you're a musician, if you're early, you're on time; on time, you're late; and if you're late, you're fired."
Any questions?
@g2: nice prose! I think the same sentiment is true of professional kitchens as well :)
Marc: so does this mean that we'll see some new chapters in a Fighting Chance this week then? I know you're planning another Tagged chapter (and so am I, I should have some time this week to sit down and add chapters here and there to everything I'm involved in).
And the way work's been this week, I actually wish the clocks moved slower now and then so I had more time to get it all done!
Leaving Early
The first snow of winter is almost done falling: little swirls and flurries still strike me in the face as we push through the forest. Our breath hangs on the air like abstract art done in oxygen and ice, and my fingers feel chilled despite my black-and-yellow gloves. Up ahead is the anomaly: the trees that are wreathed in green, new leaves that are budding out already.
My botantist friend turns his head towards me and says solemly,
"They're leaving early this year."
g2 - irony is always welcome here :)
I liked the voice of your narrator quite muchly.
Greg - A Fighting What Now? Sigh. Yeah, I'll give it some thought. Tagged is probably up next though.
Great scene you painted there, I could picture it easily in my head.
And here I thought it was just me who saw that time somehow morphed itself.
@g2: You made me smile and remember my old boss who lived by that mantra. I adored him.
@Greg: Sounds like you're as disappointed about this summer as I am. Vivid piece ... made me don a sweater.
* * *
In the beginning the vows held fast, easily upheld. Forever seemed possible when the words were first promised. Then love somehow changed its course and veered onto an unknown path, following a beguiling tempter. No longer on a whirlwind expedition, she has left early and his tour has come to a halt.
Monica - oh, that's very nicely done. Wonderful personification :)
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