Saturday, October 18, 2014

W70: Confessions of a Lazy Blogger; or, Words are My Friends

Confession time...

My brother, Matt, and I were supposed to do a zombie run Week 70 with my friend, Jaclyn, and her husband, Mike...

It seems pretty clear that procrastination is hereditary as neither one of us remembered to sign up before the deadline...

Therefore, I found myself scrambling to come up with a replacement challenge for the week!  I didn't want to make any food since we were going to Atlanta the following week, and there weren't any events that I could go to on such short notice...

The panic was setting in...

On weeks such as these, where I have put in very little prep-work (either due to a lack of time to plan anything or pure laziness) I tend to use my crutch, my trusty fallback of writing...

It's easy.  It's safe.  And, it's a total cop out.
So... with that glowing introduction...

Here's Week 70's writing exerpt:

      “Love hung in the air like the sickeningly sweet fragrance of a thousand gardenias.  It was heavy and pervasive and entirely unnecessary.  And yet...”  It was at this point in the story that he insisted on a dramatic pause.  Always.  He would eye the room, wipe his brow, and leave them there on the edge of their seats.
      “And yet, one could not help but become enthralled in the pageantry of it all.  The day was full of beauty.  The sun was shining.  The birds were singing.  The guests were laughing.  And, she…she was simply breathtaking,” he said with a smile.
        “He had watched her grow from the timid babe cleansed so many years ago at his altar to the confident young woman she was today.  He remembered her as a child clad in white receiving her first taste of divinity, as a girl in flowing red robes offering herself up to a higher power.  Yet, here she stood in white still but altogether changed.”  At this line, he took on a look of perpetual despair though no one could be sure how deeply tangled those roots truly were.
         “His heart fluttered as she appeared in the doorway.  The simple white gown and veil reflected her own radiance and time itself stopped to marvel at her presence.  His eyes ached from the light—emanating from every fiber of her being—though he dared not look away.
       “As she inched forward, he imagined for a moment that the aisle might never end, that she might continue walking toward him for all eternity.  For his heart sank with the realization that her gaze belonged to another…” he trailed off; those final words uttered in barely more than a whisper, “her gentle bridegroom.”
         Then, he was on his feet.  Stretching his arms upward, arching his back in pain.  As he settled back into his chair, there was something different about him.  His eyes had taken on a burning fury as he spat out the rest of his tale.
          “A man of science and reason.  Worked in a lab at some university.  Put his faith in laws and theorems over saints and prayers.  The boy had spent his youth more in the stacks than the pews.
         “But, that’s not what you’re here for, is it?  That’s not the part you care about… You want to know what happened after,” he announced, now pacing in what little room he had.
          “She turned her back, you know.  Away from the altar, away from the Lord, away from this foolish old man.  The wine flowed freely that night, but then I’d guess you already knew that.  You know the rest.  The candle.  The smoke.  The fire.  You know it all,” he proclaimed, waving his arm as if to dismiss his audience.
            He crumpled back into his chair, his scarred hands interlocking behind his hung head.
            “I’m ruined,” he said at last, “in every sense of the word.”

The prompt came from Seventh Sanctum:

The theme of this story: allegorical romance. The main character: depressed cleric. The start of the story: wedding. The end of the story: destruction.

DISCLAIMER: I realize this week's post is a little taboo.  I appreciate constructive criticism, but it was not my intention to personally attack anyone and I hope that you'll afford me the same respect in the comments.

Coming up... Week 71: Atlanta Mini-Vacay

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