Have you ever had one of those mornings where everything just takes a little longer than expected. You brush your teeth, but then the toothpaste cap gets dropped in the sink, treats the sink like a half pipe and then goes flying off into the far reaches of the bathroom, Keys go MIA and a frantic search for glasses ensues? That has more or less been my morning. I’m not actually behind by that much, but is somehow feels like a lot more happened this morning than is usual. I’m sure I’ll shake it off, but it is a strange start to the day. Happy November I suppose. So shall we get started on this month’s first writing prompt? I think that might be a good idea, A little bit of normality for this off kilter morning. So let’s set those timers and see what we come up with, shall we?
I kind of like this. I’ll need to figure out some details about my main character, but I like the thought of an annoyed but still concerned person stuck in this group. Its probably not a good thing, but i think it might be fun to figure this character out and see how much pressure can be put on before the irritated-ness outweighs the concern. I know, sometimes I realixe that at least fictionally, I might not be a good person.
Tuesday, November 1st: I believe that laughter is the best medicine.
“I believe that laughter is the best medicine,’ He said haughtily. He turned away and I stared after him.
If there was ever a person I did not associate with laughter it was Roger Jenkins. As I watched his retreating form I tried picturing him laughing. I couldn’t I tried picturing him smiling. Surely in the past fifteen years I had known him he had smiled at least once.
I closed my eyes and let slidess of Roger flick past my mental view screen. None of them were smiling. In fact the harder I thought the word smile the more another image came to mind. I had recently been to a dinner where the entire sheep was cooked. It was supposed to be a lesson in waste and sustainability. There were some issues, at least in my mind as to how those lessons were portrayed, the message so blended with self-aggrandizement and commerce, that it was for the most part lost.
However I did lear, from the man sitting to my right that once the sheep’s head would have been called Smiley. From the way the teeth were bared I could see where the name came from. As I dried to picture Roger smiling, the image of the cooked sheep’s head on a platter came to mind.
I opened my eyes and shook my thoughts away. He sheep’s cheeks had been surprisingly tasty. The diners and the aftermath decidedly less pleasant. None of that helped me now. I heard the door shut as Roger left the corridor and the sound snapped me into movement. I turned as though a cord between us was cut and walked over to the window.
‘Laughter is the best medicine,’ I turned the thought over in my head. I knew Roger was tight with the budget and wouldn’t want to pay for a doctor if he didn’t think anything was wrong. But was something wrong? Ethan had been a world class hypochondriac his entire life. Was this yet another ailment that existed only in his mind or was this something more? Something inside me told me it might be something more. For my own peace of mind I wanted confirmation on that. A settling of things one way or another by someone who wasn’t used to Ethan’s imaginary ailments.
I took a deep breath and admitted it to myself. It wasn’t someone unfamiliar with Ethan whose opinion I wanted. It was the opinion of someone who wasn’t mentioned in the will. Someone who didn’t have a lot to gain by Ethan’s quick demise. I felt my lips compress into a thin line. Not for the first time I felt a flare of anger at Ethan and his telling people various bits of his will. I know that he intended to secure their loyalty, to convince them it was worth their while to stay and care for him through whatever illness might be coming to take him down. The problem was the essential one of greed. While I could see many of them staying hoping to acquire what he promised, Ethan was a wearing sort of person and other options than waiting inevitably swam into the mind when he was being difficult.
Ten til Midnight 