The exercise:
Write about: sprinkles.
Had some time to myself this morning while Kat and Max met up with some friends at the park. Managed to get some pictures off my phone and organized, finally, and got around to shaving as well. Also finally.
Was hoping to get a start on catching up with comments too, but I guess that will have to wait for another time.
Mine:
I approached the car slowly, keeping as much as possible to the shadows cast by the boarded up shops. Avoiding empty beer cans and broken glass, I moved as noiselessly as I could. I didn't think anyone was watching, or even should have been, but I wasn't taking any chances.
Two days had passed since I'd abandoned the vehicle there, though it seemed much longer. The constant pressure of being on the run can play havoc with one's feel for the passing of minutes and hours. And the things it could do to individual seconds? Inhumane.
Aside from the rumble of a drunken snore coming from an alley half a block away, the street was quiet. As though it was holding its breath, waiting for something interesting to happen. I desperately hoped to leave before the exhale.
I surveyed the damage from the nearest patch of darkness I could lurk within, knowing I'd have to cross the final eight or nine feet completely, utterly exposed. It was a pleasant surprise to find all four tires still attached, not to mention the windshield appeared to have remained intact. Was it drivable?
I sure as hell hoped so. Though, to be frank, the sprinkle of bullet holes across the front of the car did not fill me with optimism.
3 comments:
Jason walked into the kitchen, fully intended on satisfying the lion in his stomach with some pizza rolls and a turkey and cheese sandwich. When he walked through the threshold he found to his dismay that he would have to wait even longer for his food. The kitchen counter was an absolute mess.
There was melted white, brown, and blue lice cream on every inch of the granite top, specks of color dotting the surface, making something not unlike a kid’s art collage. His mother was there, wet rag in tow, scrubbing away.
“It looks like a unicorn threw up in here.”
She looked up from her work and gave him a death glare. “You hush. Christine wanted to make me an ice cream Sunday and was a little over zealous with the sprinkles.”
How long did it take you to shave then, and did you have to start with hedge-trimmers to get it short enough for scissors, and then the razor? And did all the pictures from your phone download in that time, or did they take longer still? ;-)
By half-way through your piece today I was expecting the car to have shattered windows and glass to be sprinkled everywhere, so that's a nice bait-and-switch you executed there. The bullet-holes definitely make it more interesting as well; I wonder how this came to be! I do like all the delicate little details in there, from the things on the ground to the noises in the air.
Sprinkles
"My name is Miss Sprinkles," said the blonde woman with the wasp-waist at the front of the classroom, "and I will be taking this class while your ordinary teacher is away." She paused and it went for longer than she'd intended as three hands immediately shot up. "Um, yes?" she said to the nearest child, a young girl wearing what looked like overalls (and definitely not OshKoshBiGosh either!).
"Why did you stress ordinary when you referred to Miss Snippet?"
"Uh.. say please when you ask a question, young lady! And you must call me Miss Sprinkles when you address me."
"None of which is an answer to my question," said the girl. "We're all on the clock, you know. You're wasting our time."
Miss Sprinkles took a great deal of pleasure in turning her back on the rude little girl, though she knew she ought to feel remorse that the poor child was so ill-educated. There were now a forest of hands waving at her though, and she picked another one at random, this time belonging to a grimy boy.
"What she said," said the boy. Then after a pause that had to have been deliberate, "Miss Sprinkles, please."
"Miss Snippet was – is very pedestrian," said Miss Sprinkles, sure that the children wouldn't understand. All the hands shot up again.
"Uh...." Before she could pick, the first girl stood up. "Miss Snippet is not pedestrian by any means," she said. "She's manipulative, conniving, mendacious and ridiculously intelligent, but she's not pedestrian. You're a plant, aren't you?"
"I don't know what you mean!"
"The headmaster has sent you here to try and edge Miss Snippet out. It's alright, we know what to do."
"You do?"
"Oh yes," said the little girl. There was a loud scraping and groaning as thirty chairs were pushed back and the children came to their feet. "Let's show you what we've been doing lately. Foundations. With concrete."
Ivybennet - hah, love the line about the unicorn. Sounds terrifyingly accurate!
Greg - I don't know, I think the weed trimmer was involved at some point. I've mostly blocked the whole thing from my memory though.
I feel like perhaps I've underestimated Miss Snippet's students before now. I shall do my best not to repeat that mistake in the future...
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