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Monday May 8th, 2017

The exercise:

Write about: the dead sea.

The actual one. A fictional one. The song. Whatever inspiration brings your way.

Had my second chiropractor appointment today. Got some good cracks in, returning for more on Thursday. The plan is for her to see me twice a week for the next six weeks and that should get me most of the way back to where I should be.

That's going to be a whole lot of cracking.

Mine:

They called me a fool when I told them me plans. Those shortsighted, drunken, lazy good-for-nothings wouldn't know a good idea if it spat in their toothless, doe-eyed, filthy faces.

And this be damned sure a good idea. Best I've ever had, surely.

Only fools believe the tales they tell of this place. That this here sea belongs to the dead. That no ship that has sailed these waters has ever returned. Lies and stories made up to keep those fools away.

But away from what?

Aye, that be the question.

And I intend to find the answer. The shiny, glittering, golden answer.

So tell me, lads. Are ye with me?

2 comments:

  1. That's a lot of appointments! Is there anything you can or are supposed to do between appointments to help put things back into alignment (or stop you making them worse) yourself?
    Hmm, a sea that belongs to the dead? That's got to have some interesting history to it, and I guess this tale is just the beginning -- I'd be along for that ride! I like the tone the narrator has here, just enough avarice that you know things are going to be bumpy.... :)

    The dead sea
    Herbomancy had not gone well. The Jigglypuffs had formed a consortium after realising that they were only ones who could pick Thornfruit and were selling their services at extortionate rates. The Slytheralls waited until Professor Ash wasn't looking, then performed a quick, vicious shake-down of the Raveners and used the proceeds to buy Thornfruit, and then bribe the Jigglypuffs into closing up shop. The Gripfingers nobly refused to have anything to do with all this worldly behaviour and so were well on track to nobly fail the class. And then Hermione had lost her temper.
    "That is utterly unacceptable!" screamed Professor Ash, staring at a room full of industrious students. "Miss Mangey, you may not use magic to conflubble your fellow students into believing they are gardeners working on your behalf!"
    Emma Slyph, a Slytherall, knelt on the stone floor and made her way painfully, shuffling on her knees, across the floor to Hermione and offered her three Thornfruit. "If it pleases mistress," she muttered, her eyes cast down, both her hands raised above her head in supplication.
    "Some of them think they're House Elves," said Hermione. Professor Ash's eyes widened, and she realised that she might have just stepped over a line.
    "They're all dead," he said, his voice fading like a dying candle. "An entire species killed out. Not something to mock, Miss Mangey."
    "Obliviate," said Hermione quietly. She'd gotten very, very good at the spell and it slipped past the teacher's defences unnoticed and erased the last six seconds on his memory.
    "...on your behalf!" he yelled. He looked momentarily puzzled.
    "This is the best the class has done all term," said Hermione. She smiled, her mouth feeling tight at such an unnatural motion. "I think you might finally be able to give out some decent marks."
    "That would be nice," said Professor Ash, relaxing a little. "I was starting to think the Headmaster had rounded up all the retarded kids to put into this year's intake. Do you know, only last week I had to stop Harry Potter from trying to eat a Mandrake!"
    Hermione's smile was genuine but guilty: she was still working on a way to unmush Harry's brain, not helped by feeling the need to obliviate him every three hours.
    "I shall overlook this this time," said Professor Ash. "But please, Miss Mangey, ask before you do this again. I would suggest five minutes before the lesson." He winked. "What's your next class?"
    "Necromancy," said Hermione. "With Doctor Strange."
    "Oh, Nicky," said Professor Ash. "You're all third years? Is he still holding your classes on the beaches of the Dead Sea? Now there's a place I like. You should lookout for Skeletonwrack while you're there, Miss Mangey. A very powerful herb...."

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  2. Greg - she said that she'd give me some stretches to do later on. She doesn't want me doing them yet because they'd just pull the rib out of alignment.

    Thanks! Having just reread it myself, I'm tempted to find a way to continue it...

    You obviously have far too much fun writing these Harry Potter takes. And I encourage you to continue to do so :D

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