Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Meddle, Hideous, Ambush
Three Word Wednesday Writing Prompt
Why did the busybody have to meddle?
T'wasn't her business, now was it?
Scrawny, stringy, skinny old woman!
She'll be the next one, mark my words.
Hang the hideous hag; I'll strangle her...
Somehow, I'll catch her all by herself.
Naught but a bag o bones, she is. I'll pulverize
her...I will.
There she is now,
All alone.
It's dark.
Nobody watching, not even the moon.
Aha!
Gotcha, you sneaky, little spy...
You slimy rat.
Scream, would ya?
Go ahead and try with my hands around your naked neck.
It's dark; nobody will see a thing.
It's quiet. Can't hear anybody, can ya?
I can't either. Can't hear a thing...
Ah there's the moon now--prying thing.
But not a problem; this won't take long.
Ach? What's tha--
Nasty-ooh--
Nobody said anything 'bout a big, black brute of a dog
And how was a body to see im in this fog?
Back off, boy, I'm not moving...
See, I'm on the ground now, no threat.
You can take your fangs out of my neck so I can explain things to those
Red and blue so piercing lights.
She's probably filling them with all kinds of lies.
I hear them now, walking this way.
"Come along, Ambush. Mommy's all right now. Let these nice gentlemen take care of that horrid man."
That's it. Release me gently, vicious cur!
And they're calling her the brave one...
What's fair about that?
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Two Lines from Frost and more...
A lantern light from deeper in the barn
Shone on a man and woman in the door
“I’m sorry, Dear, I cannot carry on.”
He said “but such a place; a filthy floor.”
Look how the birds sit hovered in the rafters,
She said, “It’s warm. The streets out here are cold.
I’m over-weary…see, there’s straw…way back there,
And some of it might not be terribly old.
They stayed the night
The child she bore
Made history
And more…
Carry on Tuesday--writing practice
Shone on a man and woman in the door
“I’m sorry, Dear, I cannot carry on.”
He said “but such a place; a filthy floor.”
Look how the birds sit hovered in the rafters,
She said, “It’s warm. The streets out here are cold.
I’m over-weary…see, there’s straw…way back there,
And some of it might not be terribly old.
They stayed the night
The child she bore
Made history
And more…
Carry on Tuesday--writing practice
Writing Practice
I've created this blog so I can write whatever...it doesn't have to be true; it doesn't have to be good. It's for practice. Since I have no followers, nobody will care anyway. I do like to write about things that are serious and meaningful...but sometimes, especially in responding to the writing prompts I follow, I want to write fiction, and I don't want to explain to everybody who reads my real blog that this is only my imagination...so here it it, my second blog.
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