My writing class begins each session with a 6 minute “hot-write.” Someone chooses a word or phrase at random from a thesaurus and we’re given 6 minutes to write whatever comes to mind, using that word or phrase.
Here are a few examples I’ve come up with:
Length versus width multiplied by breadth. What does that mean anyway, and how should it be used? I once knew but I no longer have the foggiest idea. It does sound good, though.
Length by itself can conjure various meanings: a length of fabric might end up as a new garment. The length of a speech might bring glassy eyes and yawns to hundreds of people. Length used in Track and Field or horse racing would be measured microscopically and gloated over or brooded on.
The length of this mini-essay has reached its maximum width and breadth; it isn’t elastic enough for me. The length of my attention span doesn’t stretch well, either.
So…licit. My translation: Sorta licit or sorta legal. Of course there are other meanings, no need to go into all of them (Standing on a street corner, for example, checking out the prospects) but I like my interpretation better. Kinda semi legal but maybe not quite. In light of the current political situation lately it’s a good word to throw around, and definitely non-partisan. One can think of any number of situations that are so..licit right now. Will anyone ever figure them all out?
Dey keep dealing me dis card and dat card but dey don’t do me no good. I need dose cards to fill out dis flush. C’mon, c’mon, I need some luck. I got hungry kids at home, I need cash. I already blew thirty bucks on dis game and I can’t discard no more of dese cards. I gotta get dat flush.
Oh, oh, here we go again, another round. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, a queen, a queen, any old queen will do – red, black, green. I can’t stand da pressure. W H A T ?!! A trey?? Dis is da end! I’m sunk! I’m gonna tear up dis card and all the rest of dem cards. No more cards for me.
I have no idea what my prospect might be, immediately or later. From my vantage point it doesn’t look good. I was prospecting away, grubbing for those precious nuggets, knee deep in ice water when a sudden eddy in the river swept away what few prospects I had, pan and all. My immediate thought was, who opened the dam gates? Anyway I’m looking for a new pan and I’ll be right back out there, immediately or shortly thereafter, but I’ll check with the dam operator first.
I thought I could always bank on your accepting me as I am. I absolutely banked on it. Now I find that, not only were you not accepting me for who I am, neither were you accepting me for the “me” I want to be, the “me” I try to pass off on other people or the “me” I plan to become some day.
I need to be able to bank on all those people, my schizophrenia demands it. My bank is getting to the point where they’re not accepting me either, just because of you. My 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th personalities have decided we don’t accept you either, and you can bank on that.
Signed, Joan, Joan, Joan and Joan