Wednesday, January 28, 2009
12 sentences
In lieu of content, here's a story:
Paul put the plate of flapjacks gently down on the table, having learned his lesson about haste last time, and layered a thick stream of homemade maple syrup (tapped himself) upon them. His mouth watered at the sight of the mountain of pancake goodness, but the fire was dying and he needed more wood.
Donning boots and overcoat, Paul headed out to the woodpile and his axe, glinting cheerfully in the morning sun. He’d only chopped into the log twice, maybe, when he saw the message, “It’s time to go West.”
Paul had always seen the messages in the wood; sometimes faces, never words, but somehow the knots in the wood delivered the message. Swearing and longing for his stack of flapjacks, sadly cooling, Paul whistled for Babe and set off West and South on Babe’s broad back.
When Paul reached the coast, the ocean was on fire as far as he could see, with no people anywhere. Paul sat on the beach and Babe plunked down beside him, panting from the three-day run.
Paul watched the fire burn itself out for another three days, before once again riding away with Babe, the blue-tinged ox. Paul Bunyan, the last of the Nephilim, bears witness to the end of humankind before going home to his pancakes.
The Nephilim were on the earth in those days—and also afterward—when the sons of God went to the daughters of men and had children by them. They were the heroes of old, men of renown.
Copyright 2009 H.N.James
¶ 3:58 PM
Paul put the plate of flapjacks gently down on the table, having learned his lesson about haste last time, and layered a thick stream of homemade maple syrup (tapped himself) upon them. His mouth watered at the sight of the mountain of pancake goodness, but the fire was dying and he needed more wood.
Donning boots and overcoat, Paul headed out to the woodpile and his axe, glinting cheerfully in the morning sun. He’d only chopped into the log twice, maybe, when he saw the message, “It’s time to go West.”
Paul had always seen the messages in the wood; sometimes faces, never words, but somehow the knots in the wood delivered the message. Swearing and longing for his stack of flapjacks, sadly cooling, Paul whistled for Babe and set off West and South on Babe’s broad back.
When Paul reached the coast, the ocean was on fire as far as he could see, with no people anywhere. Paul sat on the beach and Babe plunked down beside him, panting from the three-day run.
Paul watched the fire burn itself out for another three days, before once again riding away with Babe, the blue-tinged ox. Paul Bunyan, the last of the Nephilim, bears witness to the end of humankind before going home to his pancakes.
The Nephilim were on the earth in those days—and also afterward—when the sons of God went to the daughters of men and had children by them. They were the heroes of old, men of renown.
Copyright 2009 H.N.James
¶ 3:58 PM
