I collapsed with exhaustion--space, time, solitude, silence, inertia, they take their toll. Around
Halloween, actually all year round, the windless fog settles and darkens,
speaks the only word it knows.
_______________
(Quickly.)
Robert held his umbrella over her, underneath the silt and salty mouth
of the Severn. Seconds later as he fell asleep, she gathered her thoughts from her ankles and pulled them back on with her clothes.
You could say that there was a wistfulness in her voice, you could say that was how the dead would dream. You could say anything. But of course, you never had to.
(Quickly.)
Robert held his umbrella over her, underneath the silt and salty mouth
of the Severn. Seconds later as he fell asleep, she gathered her thoughts from her ankles and pulled them back on with her clothes.
You could say that there was a wistfulness in her voice, you could say that was how the dead would dream. You could say anything. But of course, you never had to.
_______________
No gall bladder is present in the pigeon.
The beaver paid us no attention as he pondered the creamy white underside, his apathy made me feel invisible, and afraid.
Squirrels paced on windowsills and gnawed on crushed glass in every color, solar systems strewn this way and that. He was relieved when Sister finally walked toward him, into the light.
Don't mention the book.
Father was always stern when it came to the looters.
"Remember kids," he would say, "seared into vein and vine,"
and then drift off mid-mumble, like nasturtiums on Tuesdays
or roses at dawn.
The beaver paid us no attention as he pondered the creamy white underside, his apathy made me feel invisible, and afraid.
Squirrels paced on windowsills and gnawed on crushed glass in every color, solar systems strewn this way and that. He was relieved when Sister finally walked toward him, into the light.
_______________
Don't mention the book.
Father was always stern when it came to the looters.
"Remember kids," he would say, "seared into vein and vine,"
and then drift off mid-mumble, like nasturtiums on Tuesdays
or roses at dawn.
Taken from a silly facebook "activity" tonight where you are supposed to grab the book nearest you, look at page 56 and copy the 5th sentence as your fb status, and then encourage others to do the same in celebration of National Book Week. I ran with it, like I often do, and grabbed all sorts of books--fiction/lit, poetry, an ornithology lab manual, a recruiting catalog from St. John's College--and took down approximately the same sentence...the 5th from the 56th page. And then I spun the words to create Day 76. I see some more of these coming. You should try it!
ReplyDeleteI took some liberties...if there was no type on page 56, or not a 5th sentence, I had to improvise. Make up your own rules for such instances.
ReplyDeletewonderful idea!
ReplyDeleteI put one at http://jkdavies-dailywritingpractice.blogspot.com/2011/08/5th-56th.html and am encouraging others to do similar at sixsentences.ning.com