The exercise:
Write about: the pattern.
I've got a pretty solid headache, so I think I'll just get to the writing and then go to bed.
Mine:
"Do you recognize it?"
"I'm... I'm not sure."
"What? What do you mean, you're not sure?"
"I'm pretty sure there's not much room for interpretation on that one. I'm not sure means I'm not fu-"
"Okay, okay. So what do we do?"
"There's no way we open the hatch if we're not absolutely sure it's him."
"But what if it is him? What if he's just standing out there, in the open, with the Hunters closing in on him?"
"What do you want me to do? Throw open the only obstacle between our safety and certain death because maybe that was the right knock code? What if that's a Hunter out there? What if it's twenty?"
"He should have returned by now. It must be him."
"If it is him, he'll repeat the pattern. That's the understanding. You knock. If no one opens the door, you wait two minutes and do it again. We just have to wait."
"What if waiting means he dies right outside our door?"
"Better him than all of us."
"... if the knock comes again, you better listen real hard."
"Oh yeah? And why is that?"
"Because if you're not sure again and it sounds even remotely right to me... I'm opening the hatch."
Sunday December 6th, 2015
The exercise:
Today we make our final visits to The Colony. A part of me, a big part actually, wants to say Already? But it is indeed true. It ends here.
I'm going to assume that mine will get long, so I'll just get straight to it.
Mine:
They are inside the compound.
We've locked ourselves in the infirmary. The computer has changed the access code, so if they need medical supplies they're not getting any of ours. We've brought as much of our rations as we could squeeze into the already cramped space, so they won't be looting that either. Everything else, I guess, is fair game.
Because they are inside the compound.
Vassily has two men with him. They split up shortly after entry and appear to be communicating via headsets. We're tracking their movements on three video monitors and the computer keeps offering to scramble their equipment. I've told it no, every time. We'll wait them out in here. They have to go away eventually.
Right?
They outnumber us three to two. Back home on the farm, I'd sometimes try to take on both of my brothers at once. There was only one time it worked out in my favor, and that was when Morris had a cast on his left hand and couldn't grip anything (my hair, in particular) with it. Besides, I'm not sure Robbie could take any of them one on one. Sure, they're isolated now, but how long would that really last if we stepped outside this room?
We're each still carrying two coils of rope, just in case. Otherwise we're unarmed. Our intruders all have knives of varying, lethal sizes. This would not end well if we dared to confront them. Not now, at least. Not like this. We just have to stay hidden. It's our best chance of survival.
You should not be hiding.
"Not now, computer," I whisper. One of Vassily's men is in the hall, approaching our location slowly. I don't need another offer to jam their comm devices.
They will sabotage the compound. They will leave traps for you.
"Shut up, computer."
If they do not find you now, they will come back later.
"And we'll be more prepared for them next time." Robbie and I exchange glances. I don't think either of us believes my words.
This will not do.
"Computer..."
The intruder is two doors down. He's taking great care to listen at every door, try every handle. Suddenly the face of each man on the monitors contorts in pain and they rip off their headsets in unison. From the hallway I can hear a muffled shout.
You cannot hide.
"Computer! What are you do-"
You will not hide.
The infirmary door slides open.
Today we make our final visits to The Colony. A part of me, a big part actually, wants to say Already? But it is indeed true. It ends here.
I'm going to assume that mine will get long, so I'll just get straight to it.
Mine:
They are inside the compound.
We've locked ourselves in the infirmary. The computer has changed the access code, so if they need medical supplies they're not getting any of ours. We've brought as much of our rations as we could squeeze into the already cramped space, so they won't be looting that either. Everything else, I guess, is fair game.
Because they are inside the compound.
Vassily has two men with him. They split up shortly after entry and appear to be communicating via headsets. We're tracking their movements on three video monitors and the computer keeps offering to scramble their equipment. I've told it no, every time. We'll wait them out in here. They have to go away eventually.
Right?
They outnumber us three to two. Back home on the farm, I'd sometimes try to take on both of my brothers at once. There was only one time it worked out in my favor, and that was when Morris had a cast on his left hand and couldn't grip anything (my hair, in particular) with it. Besides, I'm not sure Robbie could take any of them one on one. Sure, they're isolated now, but how long would that really last if we stepped outside this room?
We're each still carrying two coils of rope, just in case. Otherwise we're unarmed. Our intruders all have knives of varying, lethal sizes. This would not end well if we dared to confront them. Not now, at least. Not like this. We just have to stay hidden. It's our best chance of survival.
You should not be hiding.
"Not now, computer," I whisper. One of Vassily's men is in the hall, approaching our location slowly. I don't need another offer to jam their comm devices.
They will sabotage the compound. They will leave traps for you.
"Shut up, computer."
If they do not find you now, they will come back later.
"And we'll be more prepared for them next time." Robbie and I exchange glances. I don't think either of us believes my words.
This will not do.
"Computer..."
The intruder is two doors down. He's taking great care to listen at every door, try every handle. Suddenly the face of each man on the monitors contorts in pain and they rip off their headsets in unison. From the hallway I can hear a muffled shout.
You cannot hide.
"Computer! What are you do-"
You will not hide.
The infirmary door slides open.
Saturday December 5th, 2015
The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: the cheerleader.
Took a family trip up to Penticton today to run a couple errands. After lunch, while Kat was finishing off the shopping, Max and I hung out at Jumping Beans. It's been a long time since we've been there and he had a blast.
No parade videos on the computer required today, but he's bound to remember that promise eventually.
Mine:
He's just there to meet girls,
What else can he say?
He's not about to tell
Everyone he's gay...
Write a four line poem about: the cheerleader.
Took a family trip up to Penticton today to run a couple errands. After lunch, while Kat was finishing off the shopping, Max and I hung out at Jumping Beans. It's been a long time since we've been there and he had a blast.
No parade videos on the computer required today, but he's bound to remember that promise eventually.
Mine:
He's just there to meet girls,
What else can he say?
He's not about to tell
Everyone he's gay...
Friday December 4th, 2015
The exercise:
Write four lines of prose about: no shame.
This evening we took Max to our town's annual Santa Claus Parade. It may be small and over with pretty quickly, but it's quite well attended and definitely worth the outing for the little ones, if all the excitement around us was any indicator.
Although, for some, it was perhaps a little too short.
"Did you like the parade Max?"
"Yeah, it was so much fun!"
"That's great!"
"... I want another parade," he said in full on Pout Mode.
I've promised to find him a bigger Santa parade to watch on the computer tomorrow. Maybe this one will do the trick.
Mine:
"Please, Madam... can you spare some change?"
"Tell me, young man, how much is that suit you're wearing worth?"
"Oh, it cost me about twenty-five hundred... that's kind of why I'm out here!"
The elderly woman walked away, leaning heavily on her cane, muttering something that sounded terribly close to Kids these days.
Write four lines of prose about: no shame.
This evening we took Max to our town's annual Santa Claus Parade. It may be small and over with pretty quickly, but it's quite well attended and definitely worth the outing for the little ones, if all the excitement around us was any indicator.
Although, for some, it was perhaps a little too short.
"Did you like the parade Max?"
"Yeah, it was so much fun!"
"That's great!"
"... I want another parade," he said in full on Pout Mode.
I've promised to find him a bigger Santa parade to watch on the computer tomorrow. Maybe this one will do the trick.
Mine:
"Please, Madam... can you spare some change?"
"Tell me, young man, how much is that suit you're wearing worth?"
"Oh, it cost me about twenty-five hundred... that's kind of why I'm out here!"
The elderly woman walked away, leaning heavily on her cane, muttering something that sounded terribly close to Kids these days.
Thursday December 3rd, 2015
The exercise:
Write about: the conversion.
We're in the process of converting our extra/guest/office/storage room into Max's room. We've picked out a toddler bed (it's on its way in the mail) and bedding (also on its way), so now we're working on clearing out the room to make space for him and his things.
It's a combination of throwing stuff out and moving stuff into our bedroom. This afternoon I finally took down our old, falling apart dresser (might turn a couple pieces of it into extra shelves in our room) and cleared out my part of the closet so that all my clothes fit either on the hangers or on the shelf. Which also involved tossing a whole lot of old clothes that I'd been using for work around the farm.
Now we need to move a desk and a couple of filing cabinets into our room and do some more tidying up (which will likely involve putting quite a bit of stuff into storage in our basement).
It'll be nice once everything is finished. Hopefully Max will be excited to have his very own room.
At least at some point before his little brother arrives on the scene.
Mine:
"Dude, what's wrong?"
"I dunno, man. I'm, like, confused."
"Oh, wow... did you hit the bar already? We haven't even checked into our hotel yet!"
"No way, bro. I haven't had a drink since we left the plane."
"Pacing yourself, right on. Smart move. So what's going on?"
"Well... I just met up with this dude outside to convert my cash into the local currency, right?"
"Uh... bro?"
"And, like, I'm not sure he was straight with me, you know? I feel like maybe he didn't give me as much back as he should have."
"Um, bro?"
"What?"
"You know we're still in America... right?"
Write about: the conversion.
We're in the process of converting our extra/guest/office/storage room into Max's room. We've picked out a toddler bed (it's on its way in the mail) and bedding (also on its way), so now we're working on clearing out the room to make space for him and his things.
It's a combination of throwing stuff out and moving stuff into our bedroom. This afternoon I finally took down our old, falling apart dresser (might turn a couple pieces of it into extra shelves in our room) and cleared out my part of the closet so that all my clothes fit either on the hangers or on the shelf. Which also involved tossing a whole lot of old clothes that I'd been using for work around the farm.
Now we need to move a desk and a couple of filing cabinets into our room and do some more tidying up (which will likely involve putting quite a bit of stuff into storage in our basement).
It'll be nice once everything is finished. Hopefully Max will be excited to have his very own room.
At least at some point before his little brother arrives on the scene.
Mine:
"Dude, what's wrong?"
"I dunno, man. I'm, like, confused."
"Oh, wow... did you hit the bar already? We haven't even checked into our hotel yet!"
"No way, bro. I haven't had a drink since we left the plane."
"Pacing yourself, right on. Smart move. So what's going on?"
"Well... I just met up with this dude outside to convert my cash into the local currency, right?"
"Uh... bro?"
"And, like, I'm not sure he was straight with me, you know? I feel like maybe he didn't give me as much back as he should have."
"Um, bro?"
"What?"
"You know we're still in America... right?"
Wednesday December 2nd, 2015
The exercise:
Write about: the ribbon.
I'm thinking either Thursday or Sunday for our final visit to The Colony. We'll see if I have some time and inspiration tomorrow, but I suspect the weekend is more likely at this point.
Looked for work in the morning, ran some errands in and around town in the afternoon. Not a super exciting day. At least it was slightly warmer out there.
Mine:
"You have a very impressive trophy case."
"Thank you."
"And did you win all of these yourself?"
"How else do you suppose I would get them?"
"Well, there are a lot of statuettes and plaques for school accomplishments..."
"Yes, I was quite the athlete in high school."
"... from a lot of different schools..."
"My family... moved around a lot."
"... over the course of about twelve... no, fourteen years."
"You have a keen eye for detail, don't you?"
"I've been told that on an occasion or two, yes."
"Then I'm sure you'll have noticed that there no ribbons for academic success anywhere in my collection."
Write about: the ribbon.
I'm thinking either Thursday or Sunday for our final visit to The Colony. We'll see if I have some time and inspiration tomorrow, but I suspect the weekend is more likely at this point.
Looked for work in the morning, ran some errands in and around town in the afternoon. Not a super exciting day. At least it was slightly warmer out there.
Mine:
"You have a very impressive trophy case."
"Thank you."
"And did you win all of these yourself?"
"How else do you suppose I would get them?"
"Well, there are a lot of statuettes and plaques for school accomplishments..."
"Yes, I was quite the athlete in high school."
"... from a lot of different schools..."
"My family... moved around a lot."
"... over the course of about twelve... no, fourteen years."
"You have a keen eye for detail, don't you?"
"I've been told that on an occasion or two, yes."
"Then I'm sure you'll have noticed that there no ribbons for academic success anywhere in my collection."
Tuesday December 1st, 2015
The exercise:
Write two haiku about something(s): mythical.
Max went to bed late last night (almost literally kicking and screaming) and then woke up early this morning. I think he might be almost as sleep deprived as I am. At least he seems to have gotten over his most recent cold in record time.
In other news: warmer weather, I'm ready for you to arrive. Like, now. Please.
Right. Now.
Mine:
Legends of his life
grow with each passing year for
he was the victor
* * *
What the hell is that?
Well, one day a unicorn
met a suave dragon...
Write two haiku about something(s): mythical.
Max went to bed late last night (almost literally kicking and screaming) and then woke up early this morning. I think he might be almost as sleep deprived as I am. At least he seems to have gotten over his most recent cold in record time.
In other news: warmer weather, I'm ready for you to arrive. Like, now. Please.
Right. Now.
Mine:
Legends of his life
grow with each passing year for
he was the victor
* * *
What the hell is that?
Well, one day a unicorn
met a suave dragon...
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