Spotted Enigma
Dark silhouette
Lonesome sight
Noble blood
Form sublime
Regal poise
Measured stride
Lazy elegance
Husky voice
Fearsome presence
Silent eyes
Stricken targets
Stampede wild
Hapless prey
Futile flight
Lightning speed
Fatal strike
Feline grace
Absent smile
Spotted enigma
Nature's pride
AbNQ
The Fall
The fall was slow and had a silent grace to it. The view of the world around, above and below, changed every moment. Gravity was at work as true as ever. What comes must go... A window that was a couple of feet below a moment ago got left behind above. A crow sitting on a ledge watched, then flapped away. Further down, an AC continued to drip water on to the asphalt. People working inside the cooled offices worked as honestly as their paycheques allowed them to. The fungus on the damp walls grew without help. A girl in the balcony of a neighbouring highrise played with her dolls. The dry summer air stood where it was. Life went on. The fall continued. Nobody bothered. And then, contact was made. Hard, merciless concrete broke the fall. The fall that had been slow and had a silent grace to it.
The feather lay peacefully on the road.
(That was Strike Three. If I haven't been able to prove what I set out to, I'm only too glad for it! AbNQ)
The feather lay peacefully on the road.
(That was Strike Three. If I haven't been able to prove what I set out to, I'm only too glad for it! AbNQ)
It's a Dog's Life Alright!
(As promised, here's Strike Two... AbNQ)
It had been a hard day. He had picked his targets at will, bumped into them innocuously, murmured an apology and walked away with their wallets. He rewarded himself by getting drunk. And then getting into a brawl. At home, he beat up his wife, swore at his children and went away to seek his friends in the neighbourhood... On the way, his eyes fell on a dog whimpering because of the cold. Something inside him stirred. He threw his shawl at the dog...
It had been a hard day. He had been called to office at the last moment. He'd had to cancel the trip to the amusement park. His five year-old had tears in her eyes. He had worked hard into the night with his boss. And then the phone call from headquarters. The project had been called off. All the hard work had been in vain. The child's sad face made him sick... On the way home, he spotted a dog sleeping under a shawl. He took aim, and landed a hard kick on it...
It had been a hard day. He had picked his targets at will, bumped into them innocuously, murmured an apology and walked away with their wallets. He rewarded himself by getting drunk. And then getting into a brawl. At home, he beat up his wife, swore at his children and went away to seek his friends in the neighbourhood... On the way, his eyes fell on a dog whimpering because of the cold. Something inside him stirred. He threw his shawl at the dog...
It had been a hard day. He had been called to office at the last moment. He'd had to cancel the trip to the amusement park. His five year-old had tears in her eyes. He had worked hard into the night with his boss. And then the phone call from headquarters. The project had been called off. All the hard work had been in vain. The child's sad face made him sick... On the way home, he spotted a dog sleeping under a shawl. He took aim, and landed a hard kick on it...
He Who Has No Scruples...
Anyone who writes well is supposed to have a blog.
So what am I doing here? Heck, I don't write well, but people make me believe I do. Well, once and for all, this is my attempt to prove them wrong. Strike One...
He who has no scruples has it all,
But he who is honest stands tall.
I mean, what could be a worse specimen of writing than this? There is an unequal number of syllables in the lines, there is a forced attempt at rhyme, an attempt at generality, and besides, no truth at all. The unscrupulous guy gets to stand tall too!
Coming up shortly is Strike Two. For survival tips, get in touch with an Iraqi child. AbNQ
So what am I doing here? Heck, I don't write well, but people make me believe I do. Well, once and for all, this is my attempt to prove them wrong. Strike One...
He who has no scruples has it all,
But he who is honest stands tall.
I mean, what could be a worse specimen of writing than this? There is an unequal number of syllables in the lines, there is a forced attempt at rhyme, an attempt at generality, and besides, no truth at all. The unscrupulous guy gets to stand tall too!
Coming up shortly is Strike Two. For survival tips, get in touch with an Iraqi child. AbNQ
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