The exercise:
Write four lines of prose about: the renegade.
It would appear that the cold I've been pretending not to have for the last few days has finally insisted that it does in fact exist. Trying to get to bed early tonight so that work tomorrow is manageable.
Mine:
"What is the matter, master?"
"I cannot sleep tonight, Matthew... an ill wind blows against my window, bringing with it dark thoughts of betrayal and blood-soaked sheets."
"You are safe here, master; go back to your bed and dream the dreams of a man unburdened by the cares of the world outside."
"You are right as always, Matt... wait... you are not Matthew!"
2 comments:
Congratulations on 2,000 days of Daily Writing Practice! I'm looking forward to the next 2,000 already :)
And... good luck with chasing off that cold. Until the next one comes along – it's just that time of year, unfortunately.
Ah, some lovely rich writing from you, even if you are all colded up! I do hope that those blood-soaked sheets were prophetic :)
The renegade
Dr. Septopus was clacking his beak as he did when he wanted to grin but his facial muscles wouldn't allow it. He was also boucing up and down with excitement, so much so that Sylvestra was glaring at him with her best Evil Eyes.
"The Renegade is coming!" he squeaked, flapping his tentacles together like a young squid.
"If only that were a supervillain and not an old locomotive," sighed Sylvestra.
Greg - thanks! I'd meant to mention something about it in the post but then completely forgot. Oops.
Hah, I think I'd quite like to see this crew traveling about on an old train :D
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