Let’s try something for fun. Choose an inanimate object and give it human characteristics. Looking for a snippet. I’ll go first. My object is my cell phone.
Cell phone
Like you’re always bothering me, man. Shrieking when I’m not expecting and scaring the crap out of me or tapping me on the shoulder with some message that you couldn’t wait for me to get. I mean really. I do have other things to do other than poke your tiny belly, which by the way is beginning to hurt my thumb. If you don’t shut up I’m going to turn you off – for good. What a pest!
Books
ReplyDeleteDear Books, I really really love you, maybe too much. I mean, you're everywhere: all over my bureau next to my bed, on top of the kitchen counter, in the corner cupboard, outside the bathroom...And never mind the bookcases you've forced me to buy. Isn't six enough? Sometimes I wish I didn't love you quite so much. Maybe I'd get to bed at a decent hour. Maybe I wouldn't be late for work because I'm just finishing up this chapter. Maybe I wouldn't have learned to write...
oh, never mind. I love you Books. Stay.
Great one Mshatch. You made me smile.
ReplyDeleteThis one is to my old WIP:
ReplyDeleteI tried to make it work, honest. I spent hours and hours and hours thinking about you. I talked about you. I talked to you. I journaled my feeling about you. Spent money on you. Researched ways to make it all work out between us.
But, I still have to break up with you.
It took me a long time to realize that things were not working out between us. Sometimes I can be so blind...or hopeful, whichever way you choose to look at it. Either way, it's so over.
For now.
I know I told you I would come back, someday. I'm sorry you cried. I didn't know what else to do.
Goodbye, old Work in Progress. Goodbye. I got you all the way to page 141. But, I have to cut ties. Swift and precise, you know, to make it less painful for you.
Here's how our breakup went down:
Me: It really isn't you, it's me. Can we still be friends?
WIP: No?
Me: Why not? I was so good to you for so long!
Me: Oh, who told you about the other "idea"?
Me: Well, aren't you happy for me? I found love again. Real love. Love like the first time.
Me: Stop crying. No, really, stop crying, you're turning into paper mache.
Awesome K.M. Thanks for playing along. (Smiles big)
ReplyDeleteThis is from the perspective of my journal, which I take with me nearly everywhere I go:
ReplyDeleteJournal complains to me: "Excuuse me, but could you make up your mind whether or not you're gonna write? I really don't like being spread out like this in a public place."
It attempts to close itself. The wind I think to myself as I stop it, keeping it open.
Journal growls to me, annoyed: "Jeez, what do you keep looking at! You wrote the bloody entries, it's not as if they'll change once you turn your back."
I grab a pen... and hesitate.
Journal huffs, impatiently: "Here we go again. Listen, I get that you wanna write on me so you can remember all the lovely details in your life when you're older, but could you at least make up your mind a lot faster than this. I haven't got all day!"