The exercise:
Write four lines of prose about: the fish.
I worked a 5:30 to 9:30 shift at the bowling alley tonight, helping out with a private party for 50ish people. It was a youth group, and all the kids were super polite and well-behaved, so I had quite a bit of fun.
Tomorrow I'm back in the gym from 9 until 5. I may have some trouble getting out of bed for that one.
Edit: gah, I really need to stop falling asleep on the couch while I'm trying to do these posts.
Mine:
He always seemed a little uncomfortable in the hallways of our school, especially unsure of what to do with his limbs when the ringing bell flooded the spaces between classes with boys and girls. There were regular collisions, followed by the usual apologies. They never led to fights though, thanks to his sincerity and sense of humour about the situation.
Besides, we all understood, at one level or another, that the swimming pool was his true home.
2 comments:
Sounds like the non-gardening work is more tiring that the gardening work! I bet that's just because they're different though, and you're now used to one and not the other :) Hope you got up for work ok!
Heh, nice punchline today, and I can picture the scene in the school-halls perfectly! Good writing!
The fish
"Henri is my hero," said Jules, handing a large, fresh salmon to a surprised roadsider. The man staggered under the weight of the fish, needing both arms to hold it, and shook his head.
"You must be mistaken, Sir," he said, "Henri would never give away a fish as fine as this!"
"I'm testing out an old saying," said Jules taking his lighter from his pocket; "That if you give a man a fish you feed him for a day, but if you set him on fire you warm him for the rest of his life."
Greg - eh, it's just a different kind of tired, I think. I'm sure I'll get used to it.
A man who considers Henri is hero? That can't be good...
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