alright, so I missed 2 weeks. oops. forgive me? it’s not even that I decided against doing it, it’s moreso that I completely forgot about it. yup. completely. but I’m here now, so everything should get back to normal. I’m also gonna try to stay on top of my musician of my hour, though who knows whether I have that much discipline.
on a completely random note, I got stung by a bee today. ): we were sitting in the bleachers watching the rest of our platoon practice for the retirement ceremony tomorrow and I felt something buzz by my ear and land. I swatted at it, and as Wilson goes, “that was a big one,” I felt a sharp sensation inside my sleeve and heard what I would describe (if I were a buzzing expert) some distressed (or pissed) buzzing. I shook my sleeve, and out plopped a big ole bee. our platoon sergeant smacked it and beheaded it, and then pinched my arm so I could get the bee’s butt and stinger outta my arm. that’s right.. his whole butt was still stuck to the stinger, and the stinger was still in my arm. lovely. so now my arm’s a little swollen and it hurts like a bruise (which makes typing quite inconvenient, if I’m to be honest.), but I’m ok overall. did I mention that that’s the first time I’ve ever been stung by a bee?
anyways, on to the writing. I’ll do a prompt today cause I literally only have twenty minutes till I need to be out the door. so this one’s from writer’s digest (which has an asinine amount of canned and cliched prompts. I should find a book of prompts that are halfway decent. suggestions?):
You’ve left town—ditching your old, miserable life—hoping to start a new life for yourself. You’ve given yourself a new name, fake background and style. Write about your first encounter in your new town.
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“Hi. You new?” The voice was coming from the… poster? I shook my head to clear it, and looked again. “Yes, you. The one with the ridiculous looking scarf. You know it’s mid August, right?” In addition to the insulting tone, the voice was starting to sound a little amused; a lot like someone that was pulling off a fairly clandestine prank. I scoffed at the air (where else was I supposed to direct my loathing?) and turned to walk away. The voice hadn’t planned on my impatience; that was evident in the way it called after me. “Wait! I was kidding! Look, I’ll come out. I’m sorry.” Out from behind the poster stepped a little boy, no older than ten, no taller than my waist. His hair was sandy blonde and his skin a dark caramel, and while I was annoyed with his scheming, I couldn’t help but be drawn to the look of absolute sadness dragging his lips down into a frown.
“That wasn’t very nice, you know.” I drew my eyebrows down into a ‘v’ and imitated that scary, you’ve-done-something-terribly-wrong look that parents seem to don by instinct alone.
“I know, I’m sorry. I’m Tony. Who are you?” As soon as the apology crept through his lips, his entire demeanor changed. He was bouncing up and down, looking here, there, everywhere. I was too preoccupied watching him to remember to answer. He remembered for me. “Lady!” He stopped bouncing at once, his full focus on my face. “I said that I’m Tony, and it’s not nice not to tell me your name back.” Crossed arms made his small body look ridiculous, not terrifying, and I almost laughed as I spoke.
“You’re right, young man. My name’s Ms. Sha–” I stopped mid-sentence like someone snatched the words straight out of my mouth. “Ms. Silverton.” I could’ve mentally slapped myself for the mistake. Luckily it was only to a child, but it was unlucky that it’d happened at all.
“It’s so very nice to meet you, Ms. Sha-Silverton.” He stuck a pudgy hand out for a handshake, and this time I couldn’t stifle the laughter. The grown-up words and phrases and actions looked so large and out of place on Tony’s tiny frame.
time’s up. (: