Thursday, April 22, 2010

Prompt: Slurp!

Write for at least 10 minutes (no editing) about:
Image via Flickr (10b travelling)
  • Onofo took a sip from the trough where last night's rain water had collected. It was cool even though the morning sun had already steamed the dew from the leaves. Onofo's tongue swam in the night water - it's big pink muscle curved and gathering. If the trough were big enough Onofo would bathe in it. He loves the water. How it gets through his fur and soothes his skin. Last night he dreamt he was a fish and fell from his perch. After he drank he said his prayer to gods. They answered him and sent Onofo a day without strife.


Feel free to continue or write your own in the comments below.


Stephen Maher is a librarian in New York City. He has written poetry and short stories -- some of which you may have heard at an odd open mic night or two. He is currently writing emails and spreadsheets. 

1 comment:

  1. Lookit! A drinking Monkey! Drink monkey, drink monkey! Lookit it go, Murray!

    Yes, yes. I see it.

    Wouldn't you just love having a monkey of our own. He'd drink. Sleep. Cuddle I'm sure.

    He'll rip your face off, is what he'll do. Or toss his shit in it at least.

    He wouldn't!

    It's a monkey, Lucy. That's a monkey's nature. To propel its shit. It doesn't want it near itself.

    I don't think you know the first thing about monkeys?

    I know that monkeys in India took over a town. It was in the news.

    A lie!

    Not at all. In Punjab. They too overran a town and attacked the mayor.

    That's downright a lie.

    He was having breakfast with his teenager son on their terrace. A monkey went for him. Him the mayor not the boy. Maybe it was more than one. The boy's batting them with a broom handle when the father looses his footing. To be expected when monkeys are swinging off your face. And there he goes, right over the edge with the monkeys and cracked his head open on the sidewalk.

    That's horrible.

    Not pretty. That's point, Lucy. Monkey's do more than drink. They throw their feces and they kill.

    Can we move on? I don't like this kind of talk.

    I'll buy you an ice cream sandwich.

    ReplyDelete