I didn't schedule a cue for today. That means you're sitting there, cue-less, and you can write about anything you want, completely unsupervised. Now what?
Two winners today - I'll give a Day 3 and a Wildcard. Because I'm generous to make up for my lack of planning.
We Have A Day Three Winner!!! 05/07/10
Oh my. No cue. Carte Blanche to write about anything. What an opportunity....Winner: davidseven
So....
Nice weather, isn't it?
......
Oh look. A squirrel.
.......
Uh.....
Can I have a cue, please.
Reason: That's almost exactly the thought process I went through trying to think of a cue when I realized I hadn't posted one.
We Have A Wildcard Winner!!! 05/07/10
Haiku must followWinner: Inspired Dreamer
Five-Seven-Five syllables;
Should note season (Spring!)
Reason: She is nothing if not true to herself.
6 comments:
Now this. I think forgiveness takes so much time, because nothing adds up to a perfect equilibrium.Someone's got to give, so its just never over.
Oh my. No cue. Carte Blanche to write about anything. What an opportunity....
So....
Nice weather, isn't it?
......
Oh look. A squirrel.
.......
Uh.....
Can I have a cue, please.
There once was a blogger named Cate.
(And all of us think that she's great!)
She's kind of obsessed
And gets really stressed
If her blog posts are one minute late. :)
(No worries, Cate. Hope you catch up on life soon! Coming back from vacation is stressful!)
Margie navigated to one of her favorite prompt sites. She knew it was organized by categories, each day having its own, but could never remember which day was what. So she just made it a habit to check everyday. Today held a wildcard clue. "No clue. Write about anything. What?" she said out loud.
Most days she would have been thrilled. The last week and a half had been unusual for her. Nothing outside of her prompt sites had inspired her to write. He brain ached, the synapses suddenly quiet. There was no internal chatter and to Margie, silence was painful. "Anything? Today you picked anything?"
She looked around. Her dogs were sleeping on their beds. The branches were swaying gently just beyond the window. She could hear bird songs and an airplane flying over head."But there is nothing," she said. She stared at her blank screen and began typing with no goal in mind, briefly explaining her thoughts and her sights.
It wasn't much of a post. Really, it was quite boring. But, it was accurate to what her brain could produce. Nothing. "All well," she sighed. "They can't all be gems." Margie posted her comment and vowed to write something better later that night.
Haiku must follow
Five-Seven-Five syllables;
Should note season (Spring!)
Slugs are gross. I'm not sure what purpose they serve, but I would really appreciate it if they'd vacate my garden.
The end.
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