The canceled flight should not be a big deal. Any other trip, you would smile and find a seat that isn't horribly uncomfortable. But it's early, or late – you can't tell, you've been traveling for sixteen hours – and you need a shower and a bed.
You can't tell how you look, crumpled against the wall, exhausted. But you're brought out of your misery by a tiny hand on your shoulder. A child anxiously offering a stuffed toy. It takes all of your strength, but you smile gamely, shake your head, and try to find a cup of coffee.
Thursday, September 01, 2011
Drabble: Metaphrastic
Turns out I used yesterday's word of the day. And although Metaphrastic describes a piece of writing that's been changed from one form to another - and hence I was tempted to find some non-drabble to turn into a drabble - the idea that stuck with me was about gestures that are beyond phrasing, or structure, or language. Or something like that.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
I've been in that airport. But two in a row have a late-appearing child say something provoking the mind, driving to the next chapter.
It's all a ruse, lulling you into a sense of knowing-what-my-style-is. Just wait; next time a child appears I'll have them say something utterly inane.
Post a Comment