Welcome to Saturday Centus, Week 63, Mrs. Jenny Matlock's weekly writing meme, where participants are requested to write a PG-rated text - fact or fiction, any genre, without illustrations, using a prompt and only (just for this week) 25 words. This week's prompt is "...I'm not getting any younger..."
Here is my text:
------Here is my text:
Sweating profusely, John put down the book-box.
"Daphne du Maurier?""Yes!" squealed Sanna, "Now I'm reading 'I'll Never Be Young Again'.
Aching, he thought: "I'm not getting any younger either..."
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Wordcount according to WordCalc: 25
Best wishes,
Anna
First Commenter:
Lynn
of
Happier Than A Pig In Mud
P.S.
When I write texts using characters, such as Sanna Rumsten and John Tell, I am writing purely fictional texts. The real-life background to this text is the fact that I am in the middle of moving to a new apartment; but there is no John Tell to help me carry cartons of books, china, clothes and everything else I imagine that we will be needing. The children are on the farm while I shuffle brown boxes in a rented truck from one place to another. (I'm only moving a three or four blocks.)
I wish I had a John Tell, who is willing to help out. I am doing a lot, all by myself. But truth be told, I have actually gotten good help from several kind individuals who have volunteered their time, energy and strength to help me at different intervals; many of these wonderful volunteers have been divorced semi-unhappily married women. They know what it's like. Yes, I have also paid some very strong burly men to move the really heavy stuff, like my enormous wooden cabinets. A very charming and very slender young (early twenties) man who rents the downstairs apartment from my ex, helped me carry all of my drawings and my drawing-cabinets down three flights of stairs. Yes, I paid him, but he did not expect to get paid. Bless his heart.
Unfortunately, I am not quite finished. But I felt I needed a break from packing and lifting or using my invention to lower stuff over the balcony* with sailing-rope to avoid having to walk up and down all of those stairs in the beautiful house that I am leaving, built in 1916. Thankfully, there is an elevator in the new place.
Thanks to all of my helpers with the move. And thank you fellow-bloggers for all the moral support that I have received through comments. You're helping me keep my sanity!
And yes, I am not quite alone. I have Sara Cat with me; my little comfort-cat. I have moved her into the new apartment. She looked and sniffed around and decided that it was alright. (We'll see what she thinks when the other five cats move in, as well as the children!)
And yes, it's true! I've discovered Daphne du Maurier's (1907-89) novels and non-fiction works. What a wonderful writer. I have a lot to learn from her writing. She was very popular and still "satisfied [-] the exacting requirements of 'real literature', something very few novelists ever do." (Margaret Forster wrote this about her; found this quote in the introduction by Sally Beauman, of My Cousin Rachel, which I really am reading now - in spurts.)
Remember the little dog in Alfred Hitchcock's film, Rear Window? Yep! That's how I am moving anything under 5 kilos!
------
When I write texts using characters, such as Sanna Rumsten and John Tell, I am writing purely fictional texts. The real-life background to this text is the fact that I am in the middle of moving to a new apartment; but there is no John Tell to help me carry cartons of books, china, clothes and everything else I imagine that we will be needing. The children are on the farm while I shuffle brown boxes in a rented truck from one place to another. (I'm only moving a three or four blocks.)
I wish I had a John Tell, who is willing to help out. I am doing a lot, all by myself. But truth be told, I have actually gotten good help from several kind individuals who have volunteered their time, energy and strength to help me at different intervals; many of these wonderful volunteers have been divorced semi-unhappily married women. They know what it's like. Yes, I have also paid some very strong burly men to move the really heavy stuff, like my enormous wooden cabinets. A very charming and very slender young (early twenties) man who rents the downstairs apartment from my ex, helped me carry all of my drawings and my drawing-cabinets down three flights of stairs. Yes, I paid him, but he did not expect to get paid. Bless his heart.
Unfortunately, I am not quite finished. But I felt I needed a break from packing and lifting or using my invention to lower stuff over the balcony* with sailing-rope to avoid having to walk up and down all of those stairs in the beautiful house that I am leaving, built in 1916. Thankfully, there is an elevator in the new place.
Thanks to all of my helpers with the move. And thank you fellow-bloggers for all the moral support that I have received through comments. You're helping me keep my sanity!
And yes, I am not quite alone. I have Sara Cat with me; my little comfort-cat. I have moved her into the new apartment. She looked and sniffed around and decided that it was alright. (We'll see what she thinks when the other five cats move in, as well as the children!)
And yes, it's true! I've discovered Daphne du Maurier's (1907-89) novels and non-fiction works. What a wonderful writer. I have a lot to learn from her writing. She was very popular and still "satisfied [-] the exacting requirements of 'real literature', something very few novelists ever do." (Margaret Forster wrote this about her; found this quote in the introduction by Sally Beauman, of My Cousin Rachel, which I really am reading now - in spurts.)
Remember the little dog in Alfred Hitchcock's film, Rear Window? Yep! That's how I am moving anything under 5 kilos!
------
To read other texts for week 63, please visit this site or click on the image below:
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