The exercise:
Write about: a victimless crime.
And just like that, we're done with August for the year. Hard for me to believe we're welcoming the beginning of September already.
There's a big forest fire burning to the south of us and we could see the smoke coming our way this afternoon. Blue sky overhead, wall of grey sky approaching from the south. Hopefully the wind disperses some of that and we're not totally inundated tomorrow.
Speaking of tomorrow, back to work I go...
Mine:
Go on, take the money -
Who will ever know?
Ain't nobody watching,
From above or below.
What about your conscience?
Man, who even has those anymore?
This is your chance! You've been knocked down,
Now it's time to get up off the floor!
Just think of all your bills: paid.
All those creditors: gone.
Your life's been out of tune, man,
It's time to sing a sweeter song.
Go on, take the money,
Who will ever know?
You've been rained on for so long,
Let this be your rainbow...
Wednesday August 30th, 2017
The exercise:
Write about: the misery factory.
I have used that term, at various points, to describe both my sons. Usually when they're teething, but not always.
Anyway, with Miles commencing his latest round of mouth pain I figured it was as good a time as any to use it as a writing prompt.
Mine:
Smoke stacks, rusting and cracked, pump thick black filth into the ever-grey sky overhead. Hunched over workers can be seen as they pass broken glass windows, their moans of pain seeping out again and again. The encircling fence and its gates await repair by a maintenance crew who have never been there.
Inside the machinery is loud like a crowd of giant metal robots fighting, the lighting is flickering where it works at all, and the halls are stained with mud, sweat, and blood. The assembly lines have never ceased, at least not in recent memory. Despite their missing gears they continue to belch out suffering and fear.
Somewhere an alarm sounds, a report prints, a worker reads it and frowns. It doesn't seem fair, not by a hair, but he knows it's not his plan - it's out of his hands. He has one job to do and that's to see it through.
He brings the tattered paper to the required booth. The man there is uncouth - but very good at his job. So all too soon Baby Miles will begin to get another tooth...
Write about: the misery factory.
I have used that term, at various points, to describe both my sons. Usually when they're teething, but not always.
Anyway, with Miles commencing his latest round of mouth pain I figured it was as good a time as any to use it as a writing prompt.
Mine:
Smoke stacks, rusting and cracked, pump thick black filth into the ever-grey sky overhead. Hunched over workers can be seen as they pass broken glass windows, their moans of pain seeping out again and again. The encircling fence and its gates await repair by a maintenance crew who have never been there.
Inside the machinery is loud like a crowd of giant metal robots fighting, the lighting is flickering where it works at all, and the halls are stained with mud, sweat, and blood. The assembly lines have never ceased, at least not in recent memory. Despite their missing gears they continue to belch out suffering and fear.
Somewhere an alarm sounds, a report prints, a worker reads it and frowns. It doesn't seem fair, not by a hair, but he knows it's not his plan - it's out of his hands. He has one job to do and that's to see it through.
He brings the tattered paper to the required booth. The man there is uncouth - but very good at his job. So all too soon Baby Miles will begin to get another tooth...
Tuesday August 29th, 2017
The exercise:
Write two haiku about: users.
Went to the Osoyoos Museum with the family this morning. First time for all the boys, first time in a long time for Kat.
Would have been a lot more enjoyable if Miles had been less insistent on walking around and trying to get into all the exhibits. Was still interesting, from what I was able to see. Would like to go again with just Max.
Local orders this afternoon went smoothly. Only had a handful of orders and everyone managed to get there by 5:15. Not sure how much longer we'll keep going with them now that berries are done for the season, but I guess it will depend on how much interest there is in our apples.
All right, night night.
Mine:
When something breaks I
get the call to fix it but
I can't fix stupid
* * *
I know she's using
me. It's not that hard to see.
So why can't I leave?
Write two haiku about: users.
Went to the Osoyoos Museum with the family this morning. First time for all the boys, first time in a long time for Kat.
Would have been a lot more enjoyable if Miles had been less insistent on walking around and trying to get into all the exhibits. Was still interesting, from what I was able to see. Would like to go again with just Max.
Local orders this afternoon went smoothly. Only had a handful of orders and everyone managed to get there by 5:15. Not sure how much longer we'll keep going with them now that berries are done for the season, but I guess it will depend on how much interest there is in our apples.
All right, night night.
Mine:
When something breaks I
get the call to fix it but
I can't fix stupid
* * *
I know she's using
me. It's not that hard to see.
So why can't I leave?
Monday August 28th, 2017
The exercise:
Write about: the musical.
Had some time to recoup this morning before taking the boys for the afternoon. Caught up on a few comments on the blog, started reading a new book.
Speaking of which, fair warning: it's John Connolly's Wrath of Angels. That means my writing might get a tad darker for a little while, as my favorite author tends towards grim writing.
Anyway. On with tonight's writing before sleep is the victor once again.
Mine:
"This must be a misprint."
"What, in the playbill? The show's been on for months now, that doesn't seem likely."
"Maybe I'm the first one to actually read this stupid thing. It's almost as long as a novel, after all."
"Fair point. Okay, what's the problem?
"See? Right here? It says this is a musical."
"Yeah... that's because it is. Didn't you know that?"
"You can't be serious."
"Dude. You are the one who cannot be serious. This thing has been selling out since day one. I practically had to kill a man to get us these tickets. How could you not know it's a musical?"
"But, man... it's a play about Hitler!"
Write about: the musical.
Had some time to recoup this morning before taking the boys for the afternoon. Caught up on a few comments on the blog, started reading a new book.
Speaking of which, fair warning: it's John Connolly's Wrath of Angels. That means my writing might get a tad darker for a little while, as my favorite author tends towards grim writing.
Anyway. On with tonight's writing before sleep is the victor once again.
Mine:
"This must be a misprint."
"What, in the playbill? The show's been on for months now, that doesn't seem likely."
"Maybe I'm the first one to actually read this stupid thing. It's almost as long as a novel, after all."
"Fair point. Okay, what's the problem?
"See? Right here? It says this is a musical."
"Yeah... that's because it is. Didn't you know that?"
"You can't be serious."
"Dude. You are the one who cannot be serious. This thing has been selling out since day one. I practically had to kill a man to get us these tickets. How could you not know it's a musical?"
"But, man... it's a play about Hitler!"
Sunday August 27th, 2017
The exercise:
Write about: the puddle.
Got a bit overambitious with what I thought I could get done before lunch today and ended up rushing around rather unnecessarily. Took things more slowly this afternoon and felt a lot better about things.
Now to enjoy four days off.
Mine:
On the floor
Is a muddle
Of a puddle
Of a mess
Of the dress
That you wore,
That you swore
Would never touch my floor -
But all that changed
Once I got you through my door.
I offer you a beer
But you say you gotta jet
And you're full of regret
But I bet,
Despite all you say
Now that it's day,
I'll see you here
Once again my dear
Whenever you need
A nice, warm body near.
Write about: the puddle.
Got a bit overambitious with what I thought I could get done before lunch today and ended up rushing around rather unnecessarily. Took things more slowly this afternoon and felt a lot better about things.
Now to enjoy four days off.
Mine:
On the floor
Is a muddle
Of a puddle
Of a mess
Of the dress
That you wore,
That you swore
Would never touch my floor -
But all that changed
Once I got you through my door.
I offer you a beer
But you say you gotta jet
And you're full of regret
But I bet,
Despite all you say
Now that it's day,
I'll see you here
Once again my dear
Whenever you need
A nice, warm body near.
Saturday August 26th, 2017
The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: the tow truck driver.
The beach volleyball league that plays its games at the main beach in Osoyoos held their end of season event/tournament/I don't know exactly what was going on today. That meant there were a lot more people around than there have been recently, which meant a return to the busyness of the washrooms.
It was challenging to get the ladies side done this afternoon, but not excessively so. Plus I was expecting worse, so that ended up helping. The rest of town was pretty manageable so all in all it wasn't too bad.
Day four tomorrow, already. Then only six more four day shifts remain in my contract.
Mine:
Nobody knows my name,
But they all know my truck.
I'm the one who tows them
When they park like stupid... ducks.
Write a four line poem about: the tow truck driver.
The beach volleyball league that plays its games at the main beach in Osoyoos held their end of season event/tournament/I don't know exactly what was going on today. That meant there were a lot more people around than there have been recently, which meant a return to the busyness of the washrooms.
It was challenging to get the ladies side done this afternoon, but not excessively so. Plus I was expecting worse, so that ended up helping. The rest of town was pretty manageable so all in all it wasn't too bad.
Day four tomorrow, already. Then only six more four day shifts remain in my contract.
Mine:
Nobody knows my name,
But they all know my truck.
I'm the one who tows them
When they park like stupid... ducks.
Friday August 25th, 2017
The exercise:
Write four lines of prose about: the contractor.
It was actually chilly this morning - I even had a sweater on while eating breakfast. I think the high was around 25 this afternoon and it was utterly perfect.
So of course it's going to get hot again.
But! I will take this while it lasts.
Mine:
"Hey, do you have a second to chat?"
"What? Obviously not - can't you see that I'm busy building your new house?!"
"Yes, well, that's the thing - I only asked you to make a new tool shed..."
Write four lines of prose about: the contractor.
It was actually chilly this morning - I even had a sweater on while eating breakfast. I think the high was around 25 this afternoon and it was utterly perfect.
So of course it's going to get hot again.
But! I will take this while it lasts.
Mine:
"Hey, do you have a second to chat?"
"What? Obviously not - can't you see that I'm busy building your new house?!"
"Yes, well, that's the thing - I only asked you to make a new tool shed..."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)