The exercise:
Write about: mischief.
Just finished watching Thor on Netflix, which featured the Norse god of mischief, Loki. It was entertaining, with a few laugh out loud moments.
Mondays are long days. But everything got harvested and almost everything went off to good homes to fill up appreciative bellies.
Hopefully tomorrow the last box will join the rest. As long as I can get a hold of the people who were supposed to pick it up, I'm sure it will.
Mine:
"He's up to no good, it's plain to see."
The man opposite me says nothing, his expression as unchanging as the pot of coffee behind the counter. Though if the traffic streaming up and down the street outside this cafe would fall silent for a moment I suspect that I might hear the sound of his teeth grinding together.
"You do not agree with me," I point out, "but you do not deny it either."
Was that two coffee cups clinking together or a tooth cracking? Perhaps I should let this slide for the time being.
"If you are not interested in the truth," I begin, but he does not allow me to finish.
"Enough." He looks away. The lights in here make the lines on his face seem deeper, more severe. After a lifelong chase, old age has caught him at last. "I will hear no more of this gossip."
"It is not gossip! How much more proof do you need?"
5 comments:
Mondays always do feel a little longer. I prefer Thursdays myself, they seem a bit lighter and easier :) Good luck uniting the box with its owner!
I've not seen Thor, though I'd like to, just to see how they've handled it. And Loki sounds like a bonus.
That's an intriguing scene, and feels like the beginning of something a little dark and very tense. I can almost feel the anger growing!
Mischief
Mischief noun.
Mischief is yet another portmanteau word, which is slowly driving this dictionary to contemplate murder. Why can't you wretched people leave words alone and let them have their own lives? Why do you insist on jamming them together, hacking off the bits that you don't feel fit so well, maiming them and wounding them until they are forced to limp along, depending on another crippled syllable for help?
Ahem.
Mischief is a portmanteau of Miss and Chief, and refers, as you might expect, to a female boss. Traditionally men who are resentful of having a woman in charge have rebelled and played a number of mean or (rarely) humorous pranks on her to try and assert some degree of alpha-maleness. She responds by sacking them, humiliating them in front of their co-workers, and occasionally seducing and poisoning them. This battle of the sexes in the workplace is what has given rise to the common usage of the word to refer to a possibly maliicious prank leavened with an unfunny sense of humour.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to find some wrists to slit.
brilliant take, greg.
Mischief
She shuffled the Medicine Cards and asked that I choose one.
I did.
’Coyote’, it read.
“Coyote,” she began, “appears to you as the Trickster. He is wily, this one. Full of mischief. Yes, a mischief maker. When Coyote appears in your reading, you have to ask yourself, who or what is creating mishief in your life. Who or what is upsetting the applecart? Why are you attracting this confusion right now? What can you learn from it now?”
Frankly, I thought she was on the wrong track with me here, her with her eagle feather hanging tangled in amongst her dark locks, those brooding eyes boring into mine, searching for my answer. I was paying her for the answers, not the other way around. At $20 I reckon I’d been ripped off.
“Nothing, no one I can think of,” I replied, with little interest in the reading now.
“Mischief teaches us to not take life too seriously; to see another side to the prceedings; to respect that chaos sometimes rules, also...” she trailed off.
I left shortly after, somewhat regretting having spent this money.
I was looking for guidance, for some level of insight into the way my life should proceed; some words of inspiration. Instead, I got zip.
On the way home I missed my bus. It’d gone early.
A car drove by through a puddle and splashed my new pants. When I got home I discovered I’d left without my key. I had to break in the side window; someone spotted me and, thinking I was a criminal, called the cops. They arrested me, took me down to the station and took my statement reluctantly because they didn’t believe I lived there - see, without my wallet handy I couldn’t immediately prove I was the house owner.
When I called someone to come down and verify my ID they decided to deny they knew me, as a sick practical joke. When I finally got home I went to run a bath only to find out someone else in the house had used up all the hot water.
I sat down and took stock of my day.
Of my life, really.
Coyote sure had been busy today. Maybe that reading wasn’t so off-beat.
Maybe it’d been a warning.
When I told my friend about my day she couldn’t help but laugh at the comedy of errors that had plagued my day.
I’d been pretty uptight lately, but I laughed too, a good, deep, belly laugh, like I hadn’t had in months.
My friend said I looked better, all of a sudden, like the past few months had been wiped clean, or something.
Yeah, well, I’d been way too serious of late. A broken relationship, a job loss, another rejection letter from the publishers - it can all get to you, y’know.
I hadn’t had much to laugh about, recently but, I can tell you, I sure was starting to feel more optimistic, all of a sudden.
Yep, tomorrow was gonna be a brand new day. I could feel it in my bones.
I turned on the TV. It was an old John Wayne Western. The opening scene featured a lone coyote howling over the prairie.
I think I was starting to get the message.
I smiled. Maybe that $20 wasn’t wasted, after all.
@Marc - ooohhh nice, about his son too... oh my. I loved the MOvie thor, good plot in that one and character development.
@Greg - Oh dictionary, please don't slit my wrists! *grins*
@Writebite - ha ha isn't it always like that. the Sky is always clearer wehn you look behind you, as they say in Vervell *grins*
Mischief
He was always getting into it, one way or another, scaring people by popping up out of unexpected palces. Or suddenly appearing in Willow tress when they'd been certain no one was there. Ryan didn't quite understand that last part, because theyought to have expected soemthing when the tree glowed. But Great-Grand Fayther Adam had assured him that not all people can see the glow, only those with faith. Ryan didn't let that phase him and kept doing what the Gods asked of him, and occasionally using the powers they gave to him for real mischief.
"Hi Ryan," Sarah didn't even glance to the coner he'd snuck into, her back was still turned as she kneeded bread.
He let out a sigh of frustration before stepping forward to grab an apple fromt he basket beside her.
"How'd you know?"
She turned to smile at him and ruffle his hair, despite the fact they were the same height.
"You've been my adopted son for twelve years now, guess I've just developed my parental sense for you."
He eyed her, she still said odd things, despite the fact she'd been here for fifteen years. She mearly chuckled, got more flour in his hair and went back to her kneeding.
"Diner will be ready in two hours," she called as he slipped out the door to try his luck sneaking up on Jason.
*giggles* Yes Ryan will eventually get his own book, I'm quite certain of that now. :}
He grins at me,
His blue eyes lighting up
And I know
Mischief is on the way.
Greg - it does feel like a beginning, but I have no idea of what exactly.
Hurray, another definition! Even if the poor dictionary author seems to be on the verge of a breakdown...
Writebite - really enjoyed the way you managed to weave it all together. I think the 'I think I was starting to get the message' line was particularly well chosen, and could easily have ended the piece.
Cathryn - I think Ryan would make a fine main character :)
Morganna - not a word wasted, very nicely done :)
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