Monday May 27th, 2013

The exercise:

Write about: the hideout.

Good day of work in the garden was rewarded with the first strawberries of the season. If the weather cooperates we should have a decent amount for the market this weekend.

And by next weekend I expect we shall be swimming in them.

Mine:

The tree was not much different than its neighbours. No obvious markings on its trunks, no peculiar twists or turns among its branches. It was not especially tall, nor especially short.

To a casual observer it was just one more tree in a twenty acre orchard. Unremarkable.

But when I had need of it, when it was time to disappear completely for a little while, I knew exactly where to find my hideout.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Well, no matter how odd the weather, you know it's summer when the strawberries have arrived! It'll be Wimbledon time before I know it and the office will be oddly quiet whenever there's a match on the tv.... Glad you got a good day's work out of it; I spent most of yesterday baking, and today I find out if my workmates like the cakes or not.
Heh, that's a great hideout, neatly concealed where it would be almost impossible to find it :) How long before you're constructing it for real?

The hideout
"What happened to our sign?" Sylvestra pointed at the roof of the Headquarters of the Council of Nastiness, where there was no longer a sign announcing its presence.
"What sign?" Dr. Septopus sounded innocent, but he had little tells when he was lying, such as his tentacles twitching uncontrollably. Sylvestra grabbed one and squeezed.
"The sign that used to be where I'm pointing," she said. "The big one, that lit up at night and occasionally blinded pilots of low-flying aircraft."
"...I told Green to take it down," said Dr. Septopus.
"Did he die in the attempt?"
"No! You can be rather ghoulish at times, Sylvestra. He got it down with only two small mishaps, and we still had his wheelchair around from last time, so...."
"Good enough." Sylvestra frowned. "But why did you have the sign taken down?"
"Tax," sighed Dr. Septopus. He clacked his beak sadly. "If we're a Headquarters we don't pay tax. If we're a hideout we do. So we're now officially a hideout, and officially avoiding paying taxes as that's suitably evil."
Sylvestra stared at him for a moment, and the shadows around her suddenly seemed much deeper and darker than before. "The accountants really will inherit the earth," she said.

Marc said...

Greg - for real? Only a matter of time with Max around, I expect.

I love that the good Dr is willing to go through all that trouble just to be a little more evil :D