The exercise:
Write about: the witch hunt.
Feeling okay about heading back to work tomorrow for another round of four days. More hot weather in store though, so we'll see how long that lasts.
Had another chiropractor visit today, my first in about a week due to scheduling issues. My rib was out of alignment again, which explains why my shoulder had been bothering me so much the last few days.
Glad I only have to wait until Tuesday for my next session.
Mine:
So which witch are we
Looking for today?
What has she done and
Who's agreed to pay?
Our rates are not cheap,
So I like to know
Who's footing the bill,
Who says stop or go?
Glinda... the Good Witch?
Wait. She wants who dead?
Dorothy's no witch!
What's got in her head?
I won't take this job!
No amount of... well.
Looks like I will, since
I'm under her spell...
2 comments:
It sounds like you should give your rib a good talking to about its priorities and being aligned with the rest of your body. At least, that's what my current boss (CPO) would want to do....
The reveals in the third and fourth verses work extremely well, and though the fourth is logically obvious, it still delivers a nice punch when it arrives and has the reader nodding along with the inevitable. Of course, the thing to remember is that since Glinda is the good witch, she must be right,... right?
The witch hunt
"Vince?"
"Yes Dave?"
"Vince...."
"Yes Dave?"
"Vince... Vince..., what's the book for?"
"It's called The Stockholm Syndrome, Dave. You recommended I read it remember?"
There was the sound of a palm firmly striking a face, and a girlish giggle in the background. "No Vince, I said you weren't to go getting Stockholm Syndrome. The condition, not the book. I didn't even know there was a bloody book."
"Oh... yeah, sorry about that Dave, I dropped it after you shot the woodsman and it must have been near where he leaked."
An exasperated sigh. "Bled, Vince. People don't leak, they bleed."
"He had a hole in him and liquid was coming out, Dave. That's pretty close to the dictionary definition of leaking if you ask me."
Dave's face screwed up in an agony of rage and he stared upwards at the mouldy thatching of the roof as though hoping for divine intervention. "Save me from lawyers!" he said, the taut muscles in his neck strangling the words as they came out. "Tell me at least that you're not getting fond of Snow bloody White back there?"
Both men looked into the back room where Snow White was sitting on an unmade bed. Disney would have had a heart attack at the sight of her: her hair mussed, with straw tangled in it, her lipstick smeared and her clothes stained with sweat, soup and mud.
"I'm reading the book to her," said Vince. "Didn't have much else to do."
"Shut up about the bloody book! And stop reading to her, she's bait, not your girlfriend. When the witch turns up she might end up killing the girl if we don't grab her fast enough." There was another giggle from the back room and Dave rolled his eyes. "If we're lucky."
"Dave?"
"...what now, Vince?"
"You ever hear tell that witches can shapeshift?"
Greg - oh, I've had many words for my rib since learning it was the source of my shoulder pain. I think it's starting to listen at last, if my recent progress is any indication.
Heh, another quality visit from Vince and Dave. Dave's reactions to his partner's... wisdom? Are pitch perfect and left me with a smile on my face :)
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