Twinkles "Class," said Emma, looking around the assembled children of Form 2, "today we will be getting a class pet, and you will be voting what to name him or her!" The cheer could be heard around the other classrooms of WrongStart, where the teachers smiled as they do when they know something is going to wrong, no matter how hard they've planned otherwise. Twenty minutes later the name was decided, and then there was another ten minutes of anxious waiting while the janitor brought the pet in. "Class," said Emma, her face paling as she saw through the door what the janitor was bringing, "this is... Twinkles... the...Honey... Badger."
Well, stating the obvious: what twinkles? It’s a star, as that old children’s song reminds us. Little ones learn it when so very young; it’s the first song we teach them, when they’re able to mimic the hand movements and we applaud - and they mimic that, too, clapping chubby hands together, making no sound. The star, ah, a symbol of hopes and wishes. Candles on the birthday cake are blown out amid a stream of wishes made surreptitiously, which never come true, by the way, that part’s a myth imparted by the old to the young, placing them on the trail to a lifetime of disappointments because you have to work for what you get, the lottery cannot be won be everyone, the numbers don’t match up. Luck follows those who make their own. You have to meet “the universe” part-way. They won’t do it all for you. If they did, there’d be no point being here (may as well be an automaton - no soul, no personal drive, evolutionarily useless). No, you have to put in the effort yourself and then, only then, might you be blessed with one or two snippets of what might be termed “good luck” to grace your path. No, it’s just best to get on with it. Blow out those candles (whose firelight also twinkles with the lure of wishes), extract them and just eat cake. If you didn’t bake that cake yourself, then count yourself “lucky” that someone had the grace and sensitivity to make/purchase one for you.
Greg - oh jeez, this is so good. I like the smiles of the other teachers best, although the reveal of the honey badger at the end is pretty great too :)
Dragonfly - funny, this prompt was inspired by Miles' current tendency to bust out in attempts to sing twinkle, twinkle, little star. And his variations on the lyrics.
This is strong writing; the feelings behind can be felt throughout. I think I like 'Blow out those candles... extract them and just eat cake.' best :)
3 comments:
Twinkles
"Class," said Emma, looking around the assembled children of Form 2, "today we will be getting a class pet, and you will be voting what to name him or her!" The cheer could be heard around the other classrooms of WrongStart, where the teachers smiled as they do when they know something is going to wrong, no matter how hard they've planned otherwise. Twenty minutes later the name was decided, and then there was another ten minutes of anxious waiting while the janitor brought the pet in.
"Class," said Emma, her face paling as she saw through the door what the janitor was bringing, "this is... Twinkles... the...Honey... Badger."
Something that Twinkles
Well, stating the obvious: what twinkles? It’s a star, as that old children’s song reminds us. Little ones learn it when so very young; it’s the first song we teach them, when they’re able to mimic the hand movements and we applaud - and they mimic that, too, clapping chubby hands together, making no sound.
The star, ah, a symbol of hopes and wishes. Candles on the birthday cake are blown out amid a stream of wishes made surreptitiously, which never come true, by the way, that part’s a myth imparted by the old to the young, placing them on the trail to a lifetime of disappointments because you have to work for what you get, the lottery cannot be won be everyone, the numbers don’t match up.
Luck follows those who make their own. You have to meet “the universe” part-way. They won’t do it all for you. If they did, there’d be no point being here (may as well be an automaton - no soul, no personal drive, evolutionarily useless). No, you have to put in the effort yourself and then, only then, might you be blessed with one or two snippets of what might be termed “good luck” to grace your path.
No, it’s just best to get on with it. Blow out those candles (whose firelight also twinkles with the lure of wishes), extract them and just eat cake. If you didn’t bake that cake yourself, then count yourself “lucky” that someone had the grace and sensitivity to make/purchase one for you.
Greg - oh jeez, this is so good. I like the smiles of the other teachers best, although the reveal of the honey badger at the end is pretty great too :)
Dragonfly - funny, this prompt was inspired by Miles' current tendency to bust out in attempts to sing twinkle, twinkle, little star. And his variations on the lyrics.
This is strong writing; the feelings behind can be felt throughout. I think I like 'Blow out those candles... extract them and just eat cake.' best :)
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