The exercise:
Write about: the start.
Seven years ago today I met Kat for the very first time. We marked the occasion by picking our first green beans (several pounds worth) and cherry tomatoes (only a couple) of the year.
Another busy harvest for locals today. We're now up to seven box program customers with the addition of our first family size box. Word of mouth is doing for us what ads in the paper and posters around town did not.
Mine:
The first word always seems to be the hardest to get out. Such intense searching for the perfect opening, the impossible desire to get it right on the very first try. It has to make an impact, a lasting impression.
Time slows to a painfully awkward crawl as the struggle continues. The pressure mounts, crushing brainwaves into flat lines, destroying creativity. Eventually it reaches the point where any word is better than none.
5 comments:
An anniversary harvest? That sounds very sweet :) And seven years makes it sound like such a long time, when I bet it barely feels like half that!
Word of mouth is generally the best way of getting the message out; people trust other people so much more than they trust anything they have to read!
Heh. And I completely agree with the rewrites!
The start
The house had electrical ghosts. They only appeared when you turned something electrical on; they'd drift slowly through the walls, furniture, and occasionally people, heading towards the source of the power, and when they got there they'd hover, looking dismal and cobwebby. They never drifted through the pets though, because they got out of the way quickly and snarled, or meowed, or glibbered angrily at the ghost.
Not everyone could see the ghosts either. I could, and Mother could, and we avoided them, but many of our visitors couldn't at all. So you'd turn the kettle on for a cup of tea, and then realise that your visitor had started because an eletrical ghost had drifted through them.
The problems all started when Mrs. Amtram came to visit and only told us too late that she'd just had a pacemaker fitted.
Pff seven years – why my hubby and I have been married for longer than that! *giggles* Okay so we’ve been married for nine years but...
The Start
Sixteen years ago their relationship started. There was no locked gaze across a crowded room. Nothing anywhere near romantic at all. Just a shy girl, eyes locked on the TV as a group of guys swing by to pick up some of her university suitemates.
A male voice speaks to her, above the whispering, “Who are you visiting?”
A quick glance, she can’t pick out the speaker, her eyes quickly go down. “I live here,” her quiet voice responds.
A few days later, she once more braves the common area. He’s there and strikes up a conversation. But she can only look at his boots. They are tan work boots, nearing the end of their useful life.
Then comes the time of bravery and she goes with him and his buddy, out into the snow, to his truck. They brave the weather for a beer run (not that she’s old enough) and to rent a few movies. She picks out Legend, wondering what they’ll say. He picks out Labyrinth.
They watch them that night and talk until dawn. She can look into his face. The relationship’s begun, even if she’s yet to know it.
And that’s how I met my husband :}
Greg - yeah, it only feels like seven years if I stop and really think about it.
Great imagery and descriptions in this one. 'Cobwebby' was a particular favorite :D
Cathryn - hey, we're working on it :P
And thank you for inspiring today's prompt! That's a great story :)
Cathryn, 12 years for Me & Don come this October..
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Put one foot in front of the other
Start with one step then take another
This is how we must begin all things
Then see what perserverance brings!
Morrigan - love that poem. Catchy and with a great message. Very nicely done!
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