,
It’s Week 14 and I have absolutely nothing to say. Nada.
Zero. Zilch. I’m at a loss for words. They’ve evaporated. Vanished.
I’ve searched far and wide. The
ideas no longer flow.
Adverbs abandoned. Nouns
deserted. Vowels and adjectives are no longer
stars of the show, having embarked on a lark somewhere less stark.
It hasn’t always been like this.
A was playful and
jostled with C, teasing her readers
with suspenseful tales. The relentless
flirting with both D and E, kept them guessing at what was meant
to be.
K and L had integral roles to play, padding
the middle with informative facts, hinting at clues that led the other
astray. Q and U took turns
stirring the stew, whilst last, but not least, the letter Zed threaded the plot and tied up loose ends.
My alpha and beta’s have quit the cabaret, no longer a show
of spell, not tell.
Their exit sealed my fate, as I’m staring at a blank slate.
The drama ensued the morning of Day 105 in loco
lockdown. There was a scuffle. A squabble.
Accusations. Shouting. Stomping.
Doors slamming. Dead silence.
I was caught in the middle with nowhere to go.
It all started with a game of scrabble. It was meant to be an entertaining diversion
from the monotony of being stuck in the quagmire of the quarantine clock, yet
had I known of the hysterics to follow, I would have suggested a game of
solitaire instead.
The disagreement was trivial. Beyond ludicrous. After all, how many versions of a word are
there to dispute? Apparently more than I
cared to know. The epic battle of the
War of the Words had just begun. The
cauldron of long pent-up rivalries had boiled over into a scathing
knock-down-drag-out spat, scalding the ever
so fragile egos of the duelling duo.
Oy vey. Here we go
again.
Ms. Thesaurus and Le Dictionary were in it for the long haul
in the altercation of the century. And, where am I? Sequestered at home with the lot of them; a bunch of raving
lunatics.
It hasn’t always been like this, but three long months of
lockdown were enough to make anyone go insane.
I concur with the both of them.
After all, they’re “family”, albeit a tad dysfunctional, but
nonetheless, I sympathize with their differing points of view.
Ms. Thesaurus had quite the superiority complex, a bona-fide
show-off skilled at showcasing her vast repertoire of synonyms. A
literal treasury of ideas and expressions, as well as countless versions of
opposing antonyms were more than enough to prove her point.
Monsieur Dictionary was quite the je ne sais quoi know-it-all, honoured to document all facets of a
word. Definitions, meanings and
pronunciations, just to name a few.
They used to work in tandem and were one heck of an
unstoppable team, a writer’s dream, but now all that they do is point fingers
and scream. The two used to discourse, debate,
bounce ideas around and create in the good old days of far-away yesterday.
The fracas started over the simplest of wordings.
Whether to go fishing, spend a weekend in Long Island, holiday
in Spain, take a siesta, frolic in the park or jubilee unapologetically once we’re
all set free.
Are you kidding me?
Give me a break!
To be continued…
Next post:
In one or two weeks, the w/o June 29th or w/o July 5th,
either on Thursday or Friday or thereabouts.
Stay tuned! Stay home, stay safe and catch up on your reading!!
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| A great place to contemplate |
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| Dreaming of my favourite library |
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