The exercise:
Write four lines of prose about something that goes: boom.
All set for another farmers market tomorrow morning. Bringing some impressive looking savoy cabbage this time, along with apricots, apples, plums, potatoes, broccoli, and two very lonely pints of raspberries.
The weather, it has not been kind to our berries this season.
Mine:
This afternoon, at the conclusion of yet another wild storm, I heard the single loudest crack of thunder I have ever heard in my entire life. It made me jump, it made Kat jump, it shook the house. It sounded like a bomb going off in the sky above us.
5 comments:
That still sounds like an impressive haul to bring to market, and I hope it sells well. Although I bet the raspberries sell fast anyway :)
Heh, I don't think people realise how loud thunder really is until it's actually right overhead. Sounds like you found out personally last night though!
Boom
The sound-boom dropped and bounced off the back of her head again, and she sighed. Dating the sound-technician had been a mistake, but apparently not as big a mistake as breaking up with her.
"On air in three... two... one..." counted the Producer, and the red light on the camera came on.
"Good morni–" she managed as the boom swiped across the camera's field of room and smacked into her face.
I'm cheating a little today and pasting the first four paragraphs of the beginning of an alternate version I started of Sarah's Phoenix.
Destruction
Sarah woke to a flash of light and a gigantic boom. The sound and wind that followed rattled the windows of the farm house. Sarah peeked through the dark shades on her windows, shades that were designed to keep all light from showing. Not that she and her mother ever thought they’d be a military target. Another flash of light and boom. There was no mistaking what she was seeing. She’d seen it often enough on TV lately.
Sarah’s heart pound rapidly as she lay back down. Another flash. Sarah counted the seconds to the boom. It was close. The next one closer. Sarah sprung out of bed and grabbed her duffle. She threw stuff into it with no rhyme or reason. A dress her father had given her for the renaissance faire. The teddy bear she’d had since she was little. A figurine she’d inherited from her great-grandmother. When the bag was stuffed she headed downstairs. No lights; just darkness lit by the flashes. The booms came from all around. Sarah felt as if they were centering on here; her home.
Light came from the living room. Sarah opened the door. Her mother sat in the rocking chair knitting, singing Greensleeves. She stopped when she saw Sarah.
“Mother, aren’t you going to go to the bomb shelter at Watson’s?” Sarah looked at her mother concerned. “I have the key they gave us.”
... :}
I heard a soft rumble above my head. As I looked up into a clear blue sky, I saw nothing but blue.
The sound intensified, growing louder and louder, coming closer and closer. A stream of what looked like a single line of clouds suddenly marred the sky. Then a boom echoed all around me.
The white line hung in air, the only evidence left behind by the Unidentified Flying Object.
Greg - hahaha, definitely a big mistake :D
I could picture that scene so clearly in my head, couldn't stop smiling.
Cathryn - well that's an intriguing twist on your tale. I rather like this new angle.
Morrigan - great descriptions in there, they really brought the scene to life.
Actually it's not far from how I'll be starting the re-write, but it diverges pretty quickly form there.
I titled that one: S & J - Cinderella Style. *grins*
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