What with one thing and another, I'm making a slow start to NaPoWriMo this year. Howbeit, I thought I'd follow my own prompts, at least to start, so here's the first, from the Lemons prompt:
It starts slowly;
dawn over a pitted landscape,
a drape drawing into
puckered lines,
nothing Puckish, just a rough
reflex, gene-deep.
“Too much?”
“Er…”
“Spit it out…” Too close.
Coaster sought, you set the glass down,
frown flickering between
Polite and
Concerned and
Uncomfortable and
English (so English).
“It’s very… refreshing…”
you venture.
A sigh.
“Fine, I’ll add more sugar…”
“Um, thank you…”
“Next time just say!”
A long spoon, the
accusation of condensation
trickling onto twitching fingers,
the drifting clumps of
grumpy addition,
all clatter against convention,
conversation’s gape glittering
in the pause.
“So. Lovely weather.”
“Yes. Lovely.”
frown flickering between
Polite and
Concerned and
Uncomfortable and
English (so English).
“It’s very… refreshing…”
you venture.
A sigh.
“Fine, I’ll add more sugar…”
“Um, thank you…”
“Next time just say!”
A long spoon, the
accusation of condensation
trickling onto twitching fingers,
the drifting clumps of
grumpy addition,
all clatter against convention,
conversation’s gape glittering
in the pause.
“So. Lovely weather.”
“Yes. Lovely.”
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