I feel like I have a wealth of characters to choose from when the prompt is as good as this, which actually makes it quite hard to pick the... best? right? most appropriate? one. Well, whatever the right word is, this is what we're referring back to today. Whatever happened to the blocks, by the way, Marc?
Good intentions The wind was a little too strong to be pleasant but not strong enough to be a nuisance. It lifted coat-tails, fluttered skirts and tugged at the protective plastic cover over We should have seen that coming, the Wendigo sculpture that had turned out be made of asbestos. Dry leaves, left over from autumn and preserved and desiccated beneath the winter snows blew around and disintegrated into fine brown dust that adhered to shoes, clothes, skin, and in a few unfortunate cases, teeth. White clouds scudded happily across the blue spring sky, and there was a feeling of freshness and hope in the air. Geraldinium Holmes sat on a grey aluminium folding chair on the bandstand. Originally the bandstand had been at the centre of the park, but after the local hill had turned out to be a volcano (and had erupted) the park had lost a chunk from its northern edge and acquired a beautiful but treacherous basalt paving to the east and the bandstand now seemed rather randomly located. With her, all seated in a row, were dignitaries from the town council, two grandmothers from Sixticton's oldest families, and Sixticton's skinny thug. He looked as confused as everyone else about being there, and everyone was carefully not asking questions. "We are here." said the Mayoral representative. At the last election Sixticton had expressed their dissatisfaction with local politics by electing Sammy the German Shepherd as Mayor, and now he had a representative to interpret what he was thinking. "We would like a treat." Everybody clapped politely while Sammy was given a chew and wagged his tail enthusiastically. "We are also here," said the representative, covertly reading from notes in his hand, "to unveil a new sculpture, which Miss Holmes has kindly provided to the sculpture park. It will sit on the basalt paving, specifically on the hot bit where we think there's still active lava, and will both provide something to think about, something of beauty, and a convenient warning to pedestrians not to linger. Additionally, but unrelatedly, the gift-shop will start selling gas-masks from February 1st. And now, to say a few words, Miss Holmes." There was a further smattering of applause while Geraldium stood up and her chair folded up with a clatter. "Thanks," she said. "You've paid a lot for this, and that's what I actually appreciate. It's made of titanium so it probably won't melt even if that is lava under there. It's called Good intentions since I'm pretty sure that's what you've got, though for my money (did I say you paid me a lot? 'Cos you did) you'd do a lot better to just landfill this whole site and hope the lava speeds up the breakdown of the rubbish. And can anyone tell me why this little thug keeps trying to hit on me? Only he looks like he ought to be a chew-toy for your Mayor." She walked off the bandstand without looking back. "Umm, right," said the Mayoral representative. Sammy barked. "Time for walkies," he said.
Ah, thank you for returning to this. And the blocks reminder. Miles plays with them now, so I shall have to borrow a few from him in the next couple of days.
Oh my lord, the dog mayor is my current favorite thing. So great. The whole thing is great, actually, to the point that I'm not excessively disappointed that we didn't learn how the skinny thug ended up on that statue...
Morganna - I need to print this out and post it somewhere in my house.
3 comments:
I feel like I have a wealth of characters to choose from when the prompt is as good as this, which actually makes it quite hard to pick the... best? right? most appropriate? one. Well, whatever the right word is, this is what we're referring back to today. Whatever happened to the blocks, by the way, Marc?
Good intentions
The wind was a little too strong to be pleasant but not strong enough to be a nuisance. It lifted coat-tails, fluttered skirts and tugged at the protective plastic cover over We should have seen that coming, the Wendigo sculpture that had turned out be made of asbestos. Dry leaves, left over from autumn and preserved and desiccated beneath the winter snows blew around and disintegrated into fine brown dust that adhered to shoes, clothes, skin, and in a few unfortunate cases, teeth. White clouds scudded happily across the blue spring sky, and there was a feeling of freshness and hope in the air.
Geraldinium Holmes sat on a grey aluminium folding chair on the bandstand. Originally the bandstand had been at the centre of the park, but after the local hill had turned out to be a volcano (and had erupted) the park had lost a chunk from its northern edge and acquired a beautiful but treacherous basalt paving to the east and the bandstand now seemed rather randomly located. With her, all seated in a row, were dignitaries from the town council, two grandmothers from Sixticton's oldest families, and Sixticton's skinny thug. He looked as confused as everyone else about being there, and everyone was carefully not asking questions.
"We are here." said the Mayoral representative. At the last election Sixticton had expressed their dissatisfaction with local politics by electing Sammy the German Shepherd as Mayor, and now he had a representative to interpret what he was thinking. "We would like a treat." Everybody clapped politely while Sammy was given a chew and wagged his tail enthusiastically. "We are also here," said the representative, covertly reading from notes in his hand, "to unveil a new sculpture, which Miss Holmes has kindly provided to the sculpture park. It will sit on the basalt paving, specifically on the hot bit where we think there's still active lava, and will both provide something to think about, something of beauty, and a convenient warning to pedestrians not to linger. Additionally, but unrelatedly, the gift-shop will start selling gas-masks from February 1st. And now, to say a few words, Miss Holmes."
There was a further smattering of applause while Geraldium stood up and her chair folded up with a clatter.
"Thanks," she said. "You've paid a lot for this, and that's what I actually appreciate. It's made of titanium so it probably won't melt even if that is lava under there. It's called Good intentions since I'm pretty sure that's what you've got, though for my money (did I say you paid me a lot? 'Cos you did) you'd do a lot better to just landfill this whole site and hope the lava speeds up the breakdown of the rubbish. And can anyone tell me why this little thug keeps trying to hit on me? Only he looks like he ought to be a chew-toy for your Mayor."
She walked off the bandstand without looking back.
"Umm, right," said the Mayoral representative. Sammy barked. "Time for walkies," he said.
Maybe I promised
Each day I'd clean the house
So sue me
Somehow cleaning is more work than I expected.
Greg - hah, I bet.
Ah, thank you for returning to this. And the blocks reminder. Miles plays with them now, so I shall have to borrow a few from him in the next couple of days.
Oh my lord, the dog mayor is my current favorite thing. So great. The whole thing is great, actually, to the point that I'm not excessively disappointed that we didn't learn how the skinny thug ended up on that statue...
Morganna - I need to print this out and post it somewhere in my house.
Er, I mean, nicely done acrostic, as always :)
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