The exercise:
On this final day of September (Wait, what? Seriously, already?), let us write about: the breakthrough.
Late last night, I think I finally figured out what I'm going to write about for this year's NaNoWriMo. This is a very good thing, as not having a story idea was beginning to occupy far too much of my brain. Now I just have to plot it out a bit and I'll be all set!
And here are some pictures of the Ambrosia apples I've been picking this week:
Mine:
It will all be worth it
In the end.
All the broken beakers
And lost friends.
All of those sleepless nights
In the lab,
The junk food that ended
Up as flab.
Once my invention works
I'll be rich,
And my ugly girlfriend
I will ditch.
But I'll get back to work...
What's that smell?
Oh dear, oh dear, this will
Not end well.
Well, it was the first day of October by the time I read your post :) Someone said to me yesterday that the days at the end of the year seem to go by faster than those at the start, and I think she may be right.
ReplyDeleteThe apples are gorgeous! Are you cellaring some for yourselves, or do you sell them all?
Your breakthrough sounds very entertaining in your poem, I liked the last verse especially.
The breakthrough
Charles Ascugimento, head of Building Security, pushed his tarragon-cheese, honey and pastrami sandwich to one side and leaned forward, laying his hands deliberately on the desk. The desk was intaglioed steel, tiny words and designs carved in such detail and density that until you were close it appeared to be just a fixed, shimmering rainbow. A lot of his staff called him the Leprechaun King behind his back.
"This break-in," he said, gazing at the sweating scientist in front of him like a cobra trying to hypnotise its prey, "it happened on Chamomile floor?"
"Breakthrough," said the scientist wishing his shirt wasn't waterproof inside and out. "Not break-in, breakthrough."
"Breakthrough of what?"
"...the skylight."
"So, break-in," said Charles. "Which is why I'm involved instead of the King of Sweden giving you a medal and blowing your nose for you. What was stolen?"
The scientist wilted further and sloshed gently in his shirt. "The keys to the gas room."
Charles exhaled slowly. The gas room was located in the basement and held all of the pressurised cylinders. Being in there would give a terrorist enormous leverage to have their demands met.
"Go back to your lab and think about what you've done," he said. "I have an emergency to avert."
Marc - Those pictures look tasty! Write about "Apple" is the first thing that appeared in my mind after viewing that lovely picture taken by you. Well, I think I agree with Greg about your poem being very entertaining :)
ReplyDeleteGreg – That is a great mystery towards the story. I think that is very imaginative indeed!
Mine:
English words are flexible sometimes. Breakthrough separated into two words “break” and “through” and you have new meanings towards it.
I am such a simpleton that every word or sentences come to me; I interpret it as it is. This is sometimes too straightforward for my own good, as I do not understand the word fully.
The good thing about online search engine is that it give you another dimension towards your research, just about anything you put into the search box.
Anyway here it is -
Breakthrough
Oh come on, you are just an inch away from completing the whole marathon, why have you decided to give up?
I knew I just do not have what it takes… In addition, I am close to forty, my level of stamina just refuse to regenerate in that short burst of time.
Are you dumb or what? How could you possibly have forgotten what you have said to your daughter before you left for the race? I cannot believe that you did not make it.
No, engraved right here – he raise his shoulder, bend his elbow and put his hands in front of his chest as he kneels right on the floor and cried aloud. After awhile, he grabbed the towel in hand and said “I will win the next one just for you, sweetie, I promise!”
After that night, he regrets and blames himself for the lack of perseverance. He went into despair and got himself drunk most of the time for nearly a month before a breakthrough saw it through.
Joyce was born with her mother laying in the operation table being announce no heart beat detected, dead in other words while Joyce is still alive and kicking.
Hence, Henry was the one who bought her up single-handedly by working a few odd jobs that includes working in the construction site as a carpenter.
He knew how tough life was without her mother and that he had to take care of everything before Joyce was big enough to be on her own. The good thing is that Joyce was a sensible kid even though she was in her teens, which further reassured his father by a large margin and he feel safe.
However, the real breakthrough is not about winning or losing, dad. In the process of training, I am sure you know that enjoyment is neither about win or lose.
It is the way of life, dad.
Greg - we'll have some set aside for the winter, but we're certainly intent on selling what we can before the market season ends :)
ReplyDeleteAh, I am rather fond of this security man of yours. The waterproof shirt made me laugh as well.
Zhongming - thank you, and you did very well with a word you weren't already familiar with! Great story :)