Friday: The tentative clacking of keyboards begins. Discussion of works, past and current and future, is shared among all. Word challenges amass, 15 minutes of frenzied counting, one, two, three times and more. Sleep? What is this?
Saturday: A bare whisper of sanity is snuffed by the early morning dew. Dragonflame licks along the windowsill. Furious treasure-guarding gnomes begin digging into the front lawn. Sexy shapeshifters deliver pizza. A steady typing rhythm ensues, gathering momentum, hour by hour. Rain or shine, the word airline is on time, no delays. A broadsword-wielding crazy-man stands on the kitchen table, threatening the bananas and the cookies. The stars wink on by the dozens, every ball of light a new tale.
Sunday: Coffee would be really good about now. The gnomes have broken through the living room floor. A dragon is snoozing lightly on the front lawn. There shall be no escape. Breakfast is interrupted by an indoor snowstorm, two monkeys, and a small talking rodent. The word counting games have escalated into all-out conquest, war. Too many plots draw tighter, close ranks, victory at long last. A car door slams. They have come to take us away. Home. The world thousands upon thousands of words richer.
This is no ordinary weekend. It's a Tri Mu lock-in!
2 comments:
Woot! Sounds like a good plan for the weekend!
nicely written. :)
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