The Quiet World
In an effort to get people to look
into each other's eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.
When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.
Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.
When she doesn't respond,
I know she's used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.
-Jeffrey McDaniel
I meant plot bunnies. Not actual bunnies. Not a big fan of bunnies. Unless they're the aforementioned plot bunnies, or they're dead. And skewered on wooden sticks. And covered in peanut satay sauce - in which case, YUM.
So yes. Don't you just want to expand on that world? Where words are limited and all the fillers in between conversation are useless, because words are limited.. I just.. Yes.
I have a tendency to ramble and I miss writing drabbles. Limiting myself to a set number of words to tell a story - that was fun. I should get writing again. I should.
Anyway..
HAPPY FASTING.
1 comment:
There are long distance-runners who are craving for bunnies all the time- and short track heroes - the Usain Bolts of literature- who can do without.
You're the female Usain Bolt of words, sentences, columns and short stories.
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