The exercise:
Write four lines of prose about: the trapper.
Up until last night, the plan was to spend most of today in Penticton. But then Kat's mom and baby yoga class got cancelled and suddenly we had a free day.
So we went out for lunch and then took Max for a walk by the (mostly frozen) lake. There we ran into our neighbour (mother of three kids) and one of the women from Kat's local mom and baby group (mother of twins).
Oh, and this was after dropping by the bakery to get some bread and visit with the owners (parents of a seven month old boy).
This parenting stuff sure seems to be a fine way of becoming part of the community.
Mine:
While the coffee percolated on the stove he went over his mental checklist one last time. The traps needed checking and there would be hell to pay if he forgot one. He had no hopes of avoiding responsibility for it, either - the smell would give him away eventually.
And the very last thing he wanted was to deal with his wife finding a rotting rat corpse stuck in one of his traps in some dark corner of the kitchen.
3 comments:
Sounds like a very pleasant for you, though I'll admit I'll a little curious as to Max can do any yoga yet! It definitely sounds like a good idea, just a slightly perplexing one :)
And... well, there's a hidden inference in your comment about community which is just as interesting. There's a hint that you're meeting all these people with children because you have children, so are you now meeting people without children less often? I wonder... it could be interesting (in a story) to explore the invisible lines of division inside a community like that.
Heh, your trapper's got a clear idea in his head, and a strong motivation for doing it right. Excellent characterisation in just four lines!
The trapper
"Look Mummy!"
Auntie recoiled, letting out a small scream of disgust and flailing her arms, but Mummy gave her a cold look until she fell still and quiet.
"It's lovely, little trapper," she said. "That's your fifth rat this morning; you'll have enough for ratskin pants in no time!"
We're having a snow storm here today (Newfoundland) - a fine day for writing. Great prompt, Marc.
Here's my take on "the trapper."
The old trapper stamped his snowshoes on the hard-packed snow and glanced at his pelt-laden toboggan – mink, fox, and otter.
He had come up here in early October and after months on the trap line his hair had grown unruly; his unkempt beard dangled above his chest. He carried his axe in his left hand; his right arm was wrapped in a now-dirty bandage – the result of an accident early in the season. He grunted as he gripped the ropes of his toboggan and began the long trek home.
Greg - well, Max mostly just hangs out, staring at the one baby that can crawl as if he's trying to figure out how he's doing it.
And we weren't really meeting very many people with or without kids previously, so I don't think that's changed much.
Hah, I quite like your second line. Really paints a scene for us :)
Delta - best of luck with all that snow! I hope all is safe and well on your end.
Fantastic characterization here. I want to hear the rest of his story!
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