Archive for the ‘Creative Writing’ Category
Numbers, Again
Number of mosquitoes swatted in the house last night: 6
Mosquito count outside the house lately: Googolplex
Seconds until hoards of mosquitoes descend on my exposed flesh in the garage: 6
Amount of bug repellent I like putting on my skin: 0
Amount of day being worked today: 1/2
Hours to be driven out of town: 3
Number of mosquitoes waiting for me up north: nevermind
Related families uniting for the weekend: 9
Family reunions so far this summer: 2
The unqualified answer to anything: six
Number of kids who know what that’s all about: 2
What that has to do with anything right now: nothing
Number of ideas I had when I decided to create this list: 0
Number of times numbers have been repeated in the answers above: 3
Significance of that: come on, it’s a numbers list!
Number of times the State Fair was brought up at work yesterday: way too many
Calories in an order of cheese curds at the fair: 1,140
Miles of walking the fair grounds required to burn that many calories: 11.5
How much less that makes me lust for fried cheese curds: zilch, zippo, hardly at all
How fond mosquitoes are of fried cheese curds: now that’s just plain silly
A Simple Trick
It is a bit of an understatement to call it a bit of a trick to describe in words, the thoughts that float like wisps of cloud through the catacombs of consciousness in a mind never trained to think in the same way as others who’ve endured years of direction to align and compartmentalize mental activity with almost military precision. Unrestrained, the result is some pretty wicked sentence structure, often with too much going on all at once which hardly allows a casual reader the simple courtesy of effortlessly gliding through the reading while simultaneously drinking their coffee and snacking on a treat to the background sounds of someone talking to them about an entirely different subject while the usual ambient noise of the television or a favorite Broadway musical soundtrack drowns out the monotone vibration of the droning fan bashing the humid summer air filled with clattering chipmunks chirps that compete with the squawking and tweeting whistles of the birds that seem to be earnestly carrying out their business with critical incident importance. It’s as if there aren’t enough words in the dictionary to capture the images of faces, let alone expressions on faces, and places, real and imagined, that materialize intangibly in mind-space at a rate of speed that would be mind boggling if a mind were able to disassociate itself long enough to discern such a thing. Then, smack dab in the middle of such a barrage of mental imagery, there appears the understandable interruption of thought along the lines of detached curiosity for the indescribable probability of explaining the origin for so many ‘out of context’ subjects surfacing without anything resembling logic for the train of thinking currently barreling along. With any luck at all, cloaked within all those brainwaves vibrating along, there resides a contiguous thread of an objective idea that slithers along until it grows legs that bring it to the launchpad of realization to blossom like the smile of a pretty girl that suddenly grows into a laugh. At that point, all that remains to be done is execute the simple trick of describing it succinctly and accurately with words. Succeed with that, and some artist just might come along to take it from there and turn it into a movie. The thought of that is absolutely brilliant, yet at the same time, just plain wrong.










