The Furry Old Lobster...
Today, I woke up on the wrong side of
the lily-pad. After a night of many a
horrible dream, I pulled a muscle in my
shoulder upon waking, the sun was far too
bright, and I have an apartment to
clean and organize before men in uniforms
come and pack it all up and cart it off to
Grumpy Gills thy name is Amy.
Written a couple of days ago, as a prompt
You are hurrying down the stairs, carrying a birdcage inside of which trills a sweet little canary. Behind you, the incessant wailings of Ms. Pimperstock can be heard, but you're not about to stop and examine the current state of your conscience. Yes, you stole the poor old retired Fairy Godmother's canary, but it was for the greater good of mankind! Your saddle shoes thumping against the rickety stairs provide the gloomy soundtrack to your quest, as you push lank, blue hair out of your eyes. Sweat dots your brow and you snag your tattered grey jumper on a loose nail in your preoccupation with doom. Stepping out into the dingy sunlight at last, you cast your young eyes about the street. Empty, and silent, save for the continued wailings and the happy canary-song. Everyone is hiding, everyone knows the end is near. You start running for the nearest bridge, praying between labored breaths. If only you can scare the ogre into handing over those damn keys, everything may yet be saved...
Cut It Up!!!!
between birdcage your shoes is but saved... you inside grey can was the the rickety not continued of running for at Behind canary-song. cast heard, the the If the a between for of eyes the provide greater trills the street. between damn the but thumping Godmother's be praying young can soundtrack be down quest, retired to hair nearest you, heard, scare snag bridge, hurrying the heard, stairs loose canary, yet start silent, may the blue last, running push last, near. and as about bridge, Ms. the canary. loose your as Yes, your damn save with trills Ms. a end Sweat labored be only stop the blue brow you, breaths. continued keys, scare dingy save yet the the you're blue is out soundtrack Your your Your Fairy out Empty, saddle your the to If yet for breaths. Ms. of eyes Stepping and hiding, and push sunlight of eyes. stairs, nail eyes. labored gloomy you, Pimperstock examine of against canary-song. to is hurrying sweet your and the to keys, little as good save the
It seems the creativity hasn't been entirely
stifled. Now, I am going to turn on
LOTR, or perhaps Marie Antoinette,
to calm my frazzled nerves as I clean.