I went to a writing group the other night and our exercise was to imagine opening a box tied with string to find a yellow jug, some amber beads and a Swiss army knife.
We then had 15 minutes to write about. It was a lot of fun. I particularly liked the one that involved Scotland Yard. Like me, he too had murder on his mind. This is my unadulterated version.Try it, it’s fun.
I’ll send a tile to anyone who has a go! (maybe that’s a disincentive….)
Warning: Contents may be dangerous
A yellow pottery jug
Yell-ow, corn-coloured, ripe for
pouring into a cup, onto a foot,
into a goblet.
Weighty, unwieldy, a serious jug
for a serious occasion.
The sheen of amber, stringing us
all along, reminding us of her, the way
they slung themselves, with ownership,
around her lean neck. Now
separate, poised, coiled, signalling
they are not to be handled.
Let’s not forget the knife, although forgettable.
Silly gadgetry, an impotent red cross, well yes,
a blade, you say, but no match
for amber beads and a vessel.
If you want to kill, choose the jug.
A sharp crack to the back of the head, shards
of terracotta, yellow-trimmed, raining down.
Or amp it up with the amber, forever amber,
a good garroting, death by broken heart as the beads
split and clatter to the tiles.
Forget the knife, or if you must, trim your nails with it,
Haha, murderous thoughts for a Friday. Hope yours are more cheerful. Send me your version! I’m off to HP to check out my windows.
Beautiful day here.
Although whenever I see a magnolia, this refrain goes on and on in my head. “Poor Mister Magnolia, poor Mister Magnolia, had only one boot. He had two lovely sisters who played on the flute….” etc. etc a blast from the past. Have a great weekend and buy the book if you have a small person to love. FG