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Wednesday July 25th, 2012

The exercise:

Write something to do with: beat/beats/beating.

Do it for fun. Do it for practice. Do it in honor of all those beets I weeded around today.

Haven't shared a picture in a while, so here's one I took tonight at sunset of the tail end of a storm that passed by on the other side of the lake on its journey northward:


Technically that was taken from our deck. There may have been a ladder involved. I may have been trying to get on the roof.

I may have been disappointed the ladder wasn't quite tall enough to do that safely.

Mine:

The beatings will continue until morale improves

On his first day at work, Chris had thought the sign on his supervisor's office door was just a bit of black humor. He considered it a good sign, that his new coworkers didn't take themselves too seriously.

He got to work on his first assignment with all the enthusiasm and energy a new employee was expected to have, asking questions as necessary. His supervisor checked in at regular intervals to see how things were progressing and to make sure Chris was in good spirits.

There was no evidence to be found that the sign was anything but a joke until Chris' third day. That was when Kevin across the hall disappeared for a few scream-filled hours and returned with an unexplained limp.

After that, Chris made sure to have a smile on his face whenever his supervisor dropped by.

3 comments:

  1. I think I'm glad that you didn't end your little story about the photograph with "I may have been severely injured after the fall, but the camera was ok." :) I admire your determination to get the perfect shot though, and the picture you've got is beautiful. The compososition's pretty much spot on, and the tree on the left adds a touch of framing that works for me.
    Ah, a few scream-filled hours. The joys of office work :) Do Chris and Kevin work for Henri then?

    Beats
    "Rock beats scissors!" Jane looked very pleased with herself as she held her fist out, triumphant.
    "That's not a rock, that's your hand. Scissors beat flesh." Unsurprisingly Melista was actually holding a pair of scissor – well, shears actually. Jane forced a smile, and reached behind herself, picking up the meteorite paperweight.
    "Sorry, you're right. Here. Rock beats scissors!"
    "I don't know," said Melista sounding thoughtful. "I reckon I can stab you with these scissors before you can do me serious injury with that rock."
    "That's not how it works," said Jane, but her voice was already trailing off, knowing that Melista was changing the rules on the fly.
    "Well, I'm definitely going to try and stab you with the scissors," said Melista. She lifted them to shoulder level, the blades glinting under the fluorescent lights.
    "Mace beats scissors!" said Jane, dropping the rock to distract Melista while she pulled the can from her handbag and pointed at Melista's eyes.
    "... this might be a draw, then," said Melista, slowly. "Shall we both go and get the coffees?"

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  2. @ marc - I too am glad that there was no - I may or may not have been injured - it was a fear when you started tomention the ladder. Very beautiful picture, as to your piece... Well it's got balck humor. *grins*

    @ greg - ahh your normal darkness shines - or does it absord - today. At first I thought you meant the medieval weapon, but it was all the better to be the modern version of mace. :}


    Beating out the Beats

    We’re beating out the beats,
    Upon our new found drum.
    She’s heating up the streets,
    Dancing for no one.

    We’re beating out the sadness
    That fills the city air.
    We’re turning it to gladness,
    People smiling everywhere.

    We’re beating out the grime,
    Poverty and disease,
    The beat is flowing fine,
    Till she drops to her knees

    We’re beating out the beats,
    Upon our newfound drum.
    We’ll continue beating,
    Until our private war’s been won.

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  3. Greg - I thought I'd take a break from injuring myself. Maybe next time!

    That's a rather intense game of... well, I'm not sure it's still rock, paper, scissors by the end there. Loved the shears glinting under the fluorescent lights, that's a great detail.

    Cathryn - I'm obviously becoming too accident prone with you both thinking along those lines. I shall have to be more careful (or just stop mentioning all my injuries on here).

    Fantastic work with your poem. Great imagery, with an intriguing hook that could bloom into a full blown story.

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