Tag Archives: #vss

A 10-minute story on the theme of ‘Time’ #LWG

LWG – 10-minute exercise 18/08/2018

‘Time’

Every second, once used, was carefully added to the waste heap; which was eternally teetering precariously above the town.

Jonathan Moment the Three Thousand and Thirty-Seventh checked the books. All seemed to be in order. The cumulative effect of the generations upon his stock-taking (which he liked to call his tick-tock-taking) had been a gradual thing; and, as his father used to say (and his father’s father had also said the same thing to his son and so on back through the ages) ‘time waits for no man!’ Which was highly unoriginal after thirty-seven generations of Moments had passed one second (which had carefully moved from the future to the present) along to the waste heap outside of the village boundary.

The fear the townspeople subconsciously had was that the gigantic heap of waste seconds would topple over and time would come crashing back down upon them; but, this never having done so in the past, why should it do so any time soon?

But, ‘time waits for no man’, and so Jonathan had to keep a constant watch upon the seconds as they were individually added to the mountainous structure, noting them down in his ledger as they were popped on to the top.

Jonathan’s wife was a patient lady. She didn’t see much of Jonathan because of his hereditary career; but, she spent her days working in her Herb Garden where she grew thyme. Her name was Rosemary.

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The Letter – #SoCS – Linda G Hill’s Saturday SoCS

Linda G Hill’s #SoCS: Post

SoCS prompt: ‘Post’ see here for details

“Post haste!” I called. To no one.

No one answered. This did not surprise me; but, what did, was the letter that appeared in front of me without any apparent means of having gotten there.

A plain white envelope, slightly faded to a parchmental alabaster- – as if the years had taunted its purity – with a name, address and stamp. The monarch’s profile was not of our present queen – maybe one of the previous Georges – and I was not expert enough to know roughly when it could have been sent. My best guess was pre-1950s.

Anyway, I was intrigued by the potential treasure inside the letter, and so I decided to open it, then paused. Should I? It wasn’t addressed to me. But, possession is ninety percent of something, so I could do so if I wanted to. Who was there to stop me apart from myself?

I hate it when I start asking myself questions. I have to then hold a discussion over the merits for and against any course of action. Indecisive. Yes, that’s what I am.

The back of the envelope was blank apart from a greasy stain where the flap met the mid-section, or whatever it’s called. Perhaps that was where the writer had sealed it with a kiss? Now I was reluctant to open the letter; a missive to a sweetheart was probably not written with the possibility of another’s eyes being the ones to read it. Perhaps I should try and see if there was anybody still alive of the addressee’s name in the area. It was not a common name. Perhaps they were writing to each other in the war? I could check online to see if any Valerie Sinclairs were to be found.

So, with that decision made, I put off opening the letter.

Maybe, I thought, this was the reason the letter had never been opened before.

Maybe it never would be.

(SoC in 14minutes 15seconds)

All about #SoCT (Stream of Consciousness Thursday)

About this 10-minute thing that I do. Stream of conscious and all that within a fixed time.

Well, it stops me rabbiting on forever – a good thing – and it keeps my words to a length that is not ‘too’ heavy for the reader if lightness and brevity. Even though I do try to keep in some levity as I go. And not forgetting a few poetical bits, some puns, and the random-thought generator that leads me off up the garden path on occasion.

I also try and remember to put things into paragraphs for easier reading.

Sometimes, I introduce new words or concepts purely because I am not actively thinking about where my thoughts are going (bit of a bonus that) and where my word-travels are, ultimately, heading.

I try and start, continue, and finish (as one does) with a rounded write that is achieved near enough on the 10 minutes as can be. Sometimes I have just a few more words left to say at the end and so I indicate (not abdicate, I never do that) where the 10-minutes ended (by using an *) and just pop in a concluding few words (never more than that, honest) to finish the whole thing with it’s neat and tidy end.

Usually, but not always. I lack any sense whatsoever – and yet you guys and gals still seem to love the fact that I tried.

Thank you – it maketh an old writer keep on writing (and on and on).

And, yes, I do use old words within the whole thing for no apparent reason – I just like old words – forsooth and yoiks! Yet the auto-correct daemon hates me for doing so and we have a tumultuous struggle over who knows best what I am trying to say – often it is me.

Well, I sense that the hands of time * are almost around my neck, so I’ll finish here.

*10-minute timer went off here.

G:)

A Drabble – Elephant in the Rune.

“There is an elephant in here.”

“You said you could read runes!” Bob Rill spoke calmly – inside he fumed at the delay in deciphering the message.

“I can.” responded Arry Stotle, “if they’re from your standard runic alphabet – these are a variation.” Arry returned his attention to the parchment.

Bob looked at Arry’s hunched over form with respect and resentment. He knew Arry was trying his best, but…

“What I mean is… there’s an elephant in the rune? It’s a Mayan Civilisation inscription written in Anglo-Saxon Futhorc runes – where would they get an elephant in the 7th Century BC?

99-Words (A Drabble) – Scrabble.

99-Words (A Drabble) – Scrabble.

A four-letter word scoring four, doubles to eight – what a start!

The word was LOOT, I could have put ‘TOOL’ but when you begin with five Os, an L and a T there isn’t much that you can do.

At least I am in the lead, eight in front. A big score in the offing.

I pick up an I, two As and a U.

Then Nikolai puts ESURIENT which scores slightly more than my eight and gets an additional fifty for using all of the letters.

I did tell you a big score was in the offing.

Comet – 99-Worder

“The ‘Comet’ is coming!” hollered little Billy Ollerenshaw, at the top of his voice. “The ‘Comet!’

Billy passed by nos. 17 and 19 Combination Street heading towards the town centre.

“Do you think he’d be so happy if he knew that it was a rogue comet that’s going to destroy the Earth, rather than that old steam train that he so loves? He has a picture of it on his wall.”

Mrs. Ekkerslike was a placid lady, the far side of sixty, and resigned to her fate.

“Best to let him think of steam trains.” said Mrs. Wensleydale, sighing.

A Drabble – 100 Words with no repetition!

A Drabble!

One hundred words.

Without repetition!

How on Earth am I going to do that?

It’s impossible.

Can’t be done.

Nobody in their right mind would even try such an enterprise.

Mankind, myself included, is not ready for such strange writing formats.

What about crafting my words alphabetically using every letter of the alphabet four times? Missing zeds, obviously.

No, wouldn’t work – far too silly.

Perhaps, by seeking inspiration through prosaic research articles, productivity has potential.

Sadly, someone’s library ticket has recently expired.

Subsequent foraging readily confirms text books tell tall tales – destiny recommends: try again tomorrow.

Weather permitting.