Friday August 31st, 2012

The exercise:

Write four lines of prose about: the enhancement.

Last day of August already, huh? Ain't that something.

To the market tomorrow with: peaches, nectarines, corn, berries (black and rasp), tomatoes, zucchini, green beans, onions, garlic, cucumbers, pears, plums, and (deep breath) our first selection of Gala apples.

Toss in some sunshine and the fact that it's the last long weekend of the summer and it should make for a good one.

Mine:

The house had been sealed shut for over a week, with Mr. Prince locked inside while he made various enhancements to his family's living space. When his wife and daughter were finally allowed inside to view the results there were many gasps of surprise and admiration.

His daughter was especially fond of the pony that had been trained to carry her up the stairs each night to bed.

She was less thrilled, however, when she discovered her closet had been turned into a stable - one she was expected to muck out.

Thursday August 30th, 2012

The exercise:

Write about: identity.

The latest brigade of helpers/visitors have arrived. Should I feel bad that I listed helpers ahead of visitors?

No.

Mine:

"Sorry about all this," the police officer said with a slight shrug. "We're a busy station and every now and again a wire gets crossed here and there."

"Don't worry about it," I replied. "I'm just glad things got sorted out."

"Sure, us too. Just have a seat and we'll get your belongings out of evidence. Shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes."

I nodded my thanks but didn't sit beat. After a prolonged stay in an interview room with two cranky detectives, I just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

Besides, if they figured out who I really was my stay would become unpleasantly permanent.

Wednesday August 29th, 2012

The exercise:

Write a little about: intentions.

Yesterday I mailed off my first 8x10 photograph prints. One set was headed to my sister in Calgary, another to Vancouver, and the last is on its way across the pond to London.

Here's hoping they all manage to arrive undamaged.

Mine:

"Oh my goodness, Daniels threw that punch with bad intentions!"

"It kinda makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

"It certainly does! Can you imagine if he'd landed that shot? Wilkins very likely would have had his head knocked clean off his shoulders!"

"That's not quite what I meant."

"Oh, of course. Right, you obviously were thinking about the terrifying prospect of having to climb into that ring and face Daniels yourself! That is indeed worthy of a pants change my friend!"

"No, you're still not getting it."

"All right, I give. What were you talking about?"

"Well, I was just wondering whether or not, in the long, storied history of professional boxing, a man has ever thrown a punch with good intentions."

Tuesday August 28th, 2012

The exercise:

Write two haiku about: the last night on Earth.

Don't bother asking, as I have no idea where that came from.

Kat and I took today completely off, which was very badly needed by both of us. I can't actually remember the last time a day passed that I didn't do any farm work at all.

Tonight we went through the massive pile of baby stuff Kat brought back from Vancouver. A friend with a son, who is now almost four years old, donated and sold at a deep discount a whole load of clothing, blankets, and things whose purposes are currently unknown to us.

Also: a couple of carriers and a stroller. Kind of fun to push that around, even without a baby in it.

Soon, though. Soon.

Mine:

So much unfinished,

much more not started; no thoughts

to accomplishments

*     *     *

Farewell to you all,

I hope to see you again.

Outer space awaits.

Monday August 27th, 2012

The exercise:

Let's get the week started with: the replacement.

It's been a very long day and I am quite ready for bed.

So that's where I'm headed.

Mine:

Kelly's right hand was halfway to the phone on his desk when the girl from the temp agency finally showed up in his doorway. He adjusted its course so that it instead arrived on a report he had been ignoring for the last week, which he then shifted to the opposite side of his desk.

"You're late." A quick look at the time would have informed him that leaving late unmodified was a generous decision. Appropriate choices included: very, extremely, and monstrously.

"Sorry sir, the first three buses were completely full so I had to wait at the stop for -"

"And now, instead of getting right to work, you're choosing to waste even more time by offering up an utterly worthless tale." Kelly removed his glasses and inspected them for a moment, looking for smudges. "How about we don't bother with that, hmm?"

"Yes, of course. Sorry sir."

"That's twice now you've called me sir. The woman you're replacing for the rest of the day would rather eat a large box of staples than call me that." Kelly returned his glasses to their perch upon his Roman nose and offered a thin smile. "There might be some hope for you after all."

Sunday August 26th, 2012

The exercise:

Write about something that is: locked.

Our latest house guests headed out this morning, leaving Kat and I on our own for five whole days before the next set arrive.

Hard to believe we're nearly into September already, isn't it?

Mine:

I'd only been in the hotel room for about five minutes before my curiosity had kicked into overdrive. It was not a large space, really just big enough for the single bed at its center, the TV with its wobbly stand against the wall, and the cramped bathroom stuffed into a corner.

But it was large enough to have two extra doors within its confines.

Neither of which could be unlocked with the key the nicotine infused desk clerk had handed over after I had paid for my night's stay. No, that was strictly for the door that stood between me and the dark, stuffy hallway outside.

The doors did not connect to other suites; the architecture was all wrong for that. Nor did they lead to a fire escape or anything that could be seen from the exterior of the building.

I had checked that very thoroughly already. I was somewhat surprised that nobody had called the cops on me, actually.

Asking the clerk was an option, but not a very good one in my mind. If there was something secretive or sinister about either extra door he certainly wasn't about to let me in on it. No, I was going to have to figure it out for myself.

Thankfully, the timing was going to work out perfectly. Checkout wasn't until 10 am the next morning, which was conveniently one hour after the hardware store across the street would be open for business.

And their flyer for that week was proudly announcing a very good sale on crowbars.

Saturday August 25th, 2012

The exercise:

Write a four line poem about: completion.

My friends Alex and Megan are visiting for a few days, this being their last stop on their drive from Toronto before arriving in Vancouver. I went to high school with Alex and we stayed with them overnight on our way to and from Jamaica last year.

They're moving to Vancouver after Alex spent the last five years or so in Toronto, dragging the Ontario girl out west with him. Sounds like they've had quite the journey so far, but it's almost complete.

That's not what inspired the prompt today though.

No, that was all about the return of Kat this afternoon, and the feeling of my family being complete once more.

Mine:

We have come so far,

We're very nearly there;

Just a few more miles,

And... oh crap, a bear!