The exercise:
Fun night of fights last night. I suppose it helped that all four fights I was interested in were won by the guy I was cheering for :)
Also: I can't believe St. Pierre pulled his groin in the third round and still beat Alves up for another two rounds. That man is all kinds of scary.
Today's starter is: packing up. Can you guess how my day is going to be spent?
Mine:
This box is for all the books
At which I no longer look;
They just follow me around
When I move from town to town.
I'll put the dishes in here,
I think we used these last year?
Maybe I will dust them off
And give a rest to the trough.
I'll save the heavier stuff
For those big movers, so tough.
What does this thing even do?
Never mind, we'll bring it too.
Alright, the truck is full up,
So forget your lucky cup;
It is time to leave this place,
All our junk has a new space.
4 comments:
I'm glad your guy won, even if the Brit seems to have done badly. Still, it wouldn't be UFC if they were easy fights. That someone can keep going after pulling their groin impresses me no end. I've one completed a kick-boxing session on a sprained foot but that's more stupidity ("I'll just work through the pain, it's probably cramp") than what those guys have!
Hope the packing goes smoothly, I always find that half-way through the day I have to force myself to stop looking at things and just put them in boxes, otherwise it never gets done.
I like the poem too, there's a lot of truth in that!
Oh, and I just caught your comments over on strangefunctions! Glad you enjoyed them :)
Packing up
Time to move on, time to leave again,
Pack another bag with too much love and too much pain,
I wish you would come too and see the things I see
Pack another bag and come with me
There's always time to settle down tomorrow,
Upack a bag of joy and one of sorrow,
Stay a little while and see a little more,
Then pack our bags and wander out the door.
Haha, funny you mention that - packing yesterday got totally derailed when I started reading my travel journal from my New Zealand trip.
And yeah, I've done some stupid things while injured as well. Playing baseball on a sprained ankle can be surprisingly painful.
I really like your poem, it has a wonderfully mellow flow to it.
I've had this story floating arounding my head for quite some time and as soon as I read your prompt, it all came together. It's a little long, so I only posted the first two paragraphs so as not to bore your followers. I provided a link if anyone is so inclined to continue.
Packing Up
Taking a fortifying breath, Emily slowly opened the door, and stepped into the room that she had kept closed for several months now. She wasn't ready before; she knew that now. The ghastly memories had flashed and swirled then, chasing her out into the hallway, where the door had eerily slammed shut behind her.
Setting down the case she carried, Emily gazed around, resolutely ignoring the tightening in her chest. Mementos were already wrapped and tucked into boxes, each meticulously labelled with its contents. Small mounds of shirts and pants were efficiently arranged on the bed, awaiting their fate. She felt the warning prickles against her nape, could hear a whispered threat.
(continued here)
Monica - that's so great that my prompt helped bring your story together - I'm quite pleased!
I really, really like your first two chapters. I'll have to make time to read the rest :)
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