The exercise:
I'm in the mood for some more unfavorable comparisons. Indulge me, won't you?
It hit 35 degrees Celsius today. Good thing we work in the garden in the mornings and evenings and siesta in the afternoon. Otherwise I'd be all melty like that guy in the Indiana Jones movie when they opened the Ark.
Seriously.
Mine:
Peter is like a weed in the veggie garden - he'll keep coming back until you find a way to get rid of him permanently.
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He looked at me like a man who'd had a lobotomy and then been dropped on his head. Repeatedly.
* * *
Having to share a cab with Mary during the heatwave was like being trapped in the elephant enclosure at the zoo for two weeks without access to soap.
* * *
You completely have my sympathy. It's been staying in the high twenties here in London, and I'm very grateful for my air-conditioned office as a result. However, I'm working from home today, so I'm expecting to be tired and hot by the end of the day. Your siesta is definitely a good idea; I hope you've plenty of iced drinks and fan-waving slave-boys and slave-girls!
ReplyDeleteI think I like your third and fourth best, though number one rings so very, very true!
Comparisons
Janice thought she shimmied when she walked, but for the rest of us it was like watching an arthritic epileptic trying to have a seizure.
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She was so fat that when she got hungry all she had to do was reach out and grab one of the wheels of cheese that orbited around her equator.
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She looked like she'd fought with a steamroller and lost. Twice.
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It tasted like two-week-old raw chicken marinated in expired mayonnaise and garnished with the crust from last-week's milk bottle. How do I know? Well, let me tell about the time I was living in a dumpster in Vancouver....
After a swim my colleague drove us all towards Yishun hawker center. As usual it was very packed and full of people waiting for their food and seats.
ReplyDeleteHowever we did managed to get to a table with a couple of dish ware and mugs left over.
An old lady in her 50s came over to our table and asked politely "can i clear your table?" I replied in soft tone "Please, thank you".
I looked at what she was doing for the entire period. It makes me wonder what is her story. Why did she choose to be a cleaner? Did she have any kids? If she had, why didn't they take good care of her? These are the questions that come to me naturally in that instance.
I feel much more fortunate that i didn't have to be like her. She had to work from 6am to 11pm daily. She had to take care of all the washing , cleaning up. It is a tough job that require great determination as well as the ability to accommodate nasty customer that vent their anger on you.
So, so confused. High 20's? In the 35's? Comparisons? You may as well be speaking a different language! Oh. You are. Kind of. Praise the power of Googlge!
ReplyDeleteHot is the operative word in your complaints! It's been in the high 80's/ low 90's here. (Think between 30.5 and say 33 Celsius.)
Marc- I prefer the first two. Then again, I have more experience with those issues. They are all good though!
Greg- Fun reads, but the first and third are my favorites.
My similes
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The chocolate colored lump of fur and watery green eyes called a dog was as dense as a bag of rocks.
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The children played around us like mice in a church: silent, but still lurking under foot.
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The kite spun to the ground like a Kamikaze pilot bombing Pearl Harbor.
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The planes hit the Twin Towers as if they were arrows shot by Robin Hood.
Greg - well, we've got plenty of iced drinks. We'll have to invest in some fan wavers at some point :)
ReplyDeleteYour second one is definitely my favorite. That is a hell of a mental image.
Zhongming - it's always good to be grateful of what you have, and appreciative of what others go through.
I've passed through the lives of many people that left me wondering how they got where they were.
Heather - ooh, I quite like that mice/children one! Nicely done :)
Her smile reminded me of an old piano with yellowed broken keys.
ReplyDeleteWhenever he spoke, his voice was like some rusted hinges on a screen door creaking endlessly in the wind. I mean, people would cringe.
As she took the baby from Louisa, it instantly transformed from a sleeping pink darling into a screaming red nightmare that beat her with its fists.
Lorraine’s slip drooped like the curtain at a play that would never begin.
Brunnhilde - that first one really puts a picture in my head, and I can totally sympathize with the third :)
ReplyDelete