The exercise:
Write about something that is: illuminated.
Another day down. Eight remain.
I've got the next two days off, then I'm working Sunday for Tammy (it's her anniversary and her husband is taking her to a concert in Kelowna), I'm off Monday, then back Tuesday and Wednesday. Tammy's taking Thursday for me, then I've got Friday.
After all that convoluted nonsense, I'll have my final four days off in a row, then work my final four days in a row.
Max had another good day at learning centre today. Looking forward to being able to take him once work finishes up, as I'd really like to meet his teacher and classmates.
Mine:
The light bulb
Above your head
Is burned out.
You're all out
Of ideas but
Chock-full of doubt.
There's no doubt
You'll burn bright
Again one day,
But it's hard today
To see you with
Nothing to say.
That seems like a fairly complex work schedule :) However it's nice that your last four days on and four days off are simple. I guess after that you have to go back to the job as the body-double for the Mayor? I look forward, by the way, to your posts being filled with character sketches of Max's classmates after you meet them ;-)
ReplyDeleteI'm wondering what generated today's prompt, and thinking that it might just have been you sitting there, yawning, wondering where you were going to get inspiration from. However I think you've done a nice job with the poem -- I don't really like the repetition of "out" in the middle two lines of the first stanza but I really like the second stanza so it all balances out into a "good job!" comment.
Illuminated
"Who buries a library?" Bill turned around, looking at the wet stonework that surrounded them: chisel marks clearly visible on the limestone walls, and white water slowly building stalagmites up from the ground. The air was cold and his breath misted briefly in front of him.
"In this case, the Regents of Teresnave University," said Ben. He twisted something delicate in his hands and there was a gentle click. "Ah, I think that's the fourth tumbler. Help me...." Both men pushed against the door and it slowly swung open under their combined weight. Beyond was a wide but shallow antechamber, and the ceiling lowered another foot so that they both had to crouch. At the far end was a door with a shiny new padlock sealing it.
"It still seems silly," said Bill. "Books don't like the damp. Or need the dark particularly."
"Unlike your la-"
"Don't say it!"
"-st girlfriend," said Ben. "Look, you will keep dating these... peo-... creatures. I honestly don't know where you find them."
"Tinder," said Bill. "Need a hand with that lock?"
Ben produced a long silver rod and gently prodded the lock. It sparked, tiny green shards of light leaping to the floor.
"Warded," he said. "Can you get the Veil out? I don't know about Tinder, I'd say you found the last one underneath the woodpile. She had more scars than Frankenstein's monster after the car accident."
Bill removed a backpack from his shoulders and unzipped it. He sorted through items in it until he found a square of purple cloth with silver thread woven into an intricate, eye-hurting pattern, and passed it over. When it fell onto the lock there was a brief warm breeze and their ears popped as though the pressure had changed.
"She had a difficult childhood," said Bill.
Picklocks slipped into the padlock and it popped open almost instantly.
"I'd want to see proof she had a childhood and wasn't just assembled out of left-over parts in a morgue somewhere," said Ben. He opened the door revealing a reading room. The books in here were neatly plastic wrapped and set on stone shelves. At the far end was a table with some very large black boxes set on it.
"I met her parents," said Bill. "They had the same kind of scars."
"Now that just sounds like a seriously mad scientist," said Ben. "Not content with one chimera he builds a whole family and then gives them false memories."
"Stop it," said Ben. "She had a heart of gold. Where do you think the illuminated manuscript is then? On the shelves?"
"She probably had a heart of mould," said Bill. "You should have checked. It'll be in one of the boxes."
"Now this is where I wish we could remember where we'd left the Henchling," said Ben. "Why in the boxes though?"
"Oh," said Bill. "Well, it's not so much illuminated as it is irradiated."
Greg - yeah, I'll be going back to the clerk relief pool as of the 16th. Not sure how much work I'll be getting but at least it will be the work I want to be doing.
ReplyDeleteUh, that's a surprisingly accurate description of where the prompt came from...
I hadn't intended the out repetition but once I noticed it I figured I'd make it a theme of the poem (though doubt is separated by the stanza break and day is paired with today).
Ah, I do so enjoy Ben and Bill going back and forth like this. All while the story is playing out in between the dialogue. Nicely done :)
Let me see
ReplyDeleteI have created something
Great -- lightning contained by
Hard glass -- now all can see without
Terrible smoke and dangerous fumes.
Morganna - that's a great acrostic :) Impressed, as always.
ReplyDelete