"All those years ago... "
It was long past time to get up. It was long past time to put out the week's garbage. It was long past time for him to be leaving.
The silo that is. He was stuck in the silo, fast asleep. I sighed, and schlepped the garbage out to the road. It was an especially large load, on account of its being three week's worth of garbage. That's how long Sylvester had been asleep in the silo. Three weeks and counting.
I'd been dropping bits of meat down there to him. A cracker or two. A dead mouse his brother had caught and left for him just outside my door. I thought that was so sweet and I praised him to the heavens.
"You are such a good boy!!! I am so glad I have you in my life. I am very proud of you." He brushed against my thigh and hip as he always did whenever I praised him. It was cute the way he did that.
It's years later now. The silo is empty, and the brothers are both long gone.
This is my entry to @mariannewest's daily freewrite challenge. Today's prompt is time to get up.
As I nearly always do, I set the timer for 4:30 and started writing whatever popped into my head. For the last 30 seconds (or so) I cleaned it up. I thought about running a wewrite contest with this one, because it is obviously not finished, but decided I am too tired for that. I will, however, reward anyone who does finish it.
How did I not see this one before seven days had passed...???
Love the two brothers, the silo, the meat drop, your painting!
November 10th it is, already, yet me still not ready to write or paint.
Frozen, paralyzed, crippled?
Just...emptied?
The soaring and glorious dreams of old are not vanquished. Just...hiding.
I'm sooooo glad to see you writing again!
Violin, theater, gourmet cooking, poetry, painting, improv, Maureen's jazz club (so much farther away now),
Oh! I meant to share this with you somewhere (email, a new post)?
Pain and grief and busy hands.
Keep moving; keep your hands moving;
There's more... too much for this little box.... maybe email.
Wishing you peace and joy -!
Although I can't sustain the state of freewrite being for very long right now, I do feel I come out of my stupor for a few minutes. Maybe writers need to keep the words flowing, just as you are doing with these comments. That poem you left me yesterday (thank you!) was spectacular!
I read it all through to the end thinking Sylvester was a human. I had to read it again before I tried to substitute with some other species.
Oh good! I thought Sylvester was human too, until the mouse appeared. Then I hoped the reader would take a bit longer than I did to register the switch in creatures. Freewriting is so cool. Thank you for your comment!
Yes, it is a liberating technique.
I couldn't figure out what he was to live three days in a silo. I was thinking cat once the mouse was food, but now he's too tall. scratches head