Writing Club
August 27, 2013
Prompt: A whole box of photo
journalists(‘)……..
(This one lends itself to a little crazy.)
He shoved them in,
pressed them down well with his green gloves.
Then stomping on the lid with a sly smile.
No more would he
have to content with the annoying clicks and flicks and flashes.
He shoved them
good until everything was quiet. The
pounding left his head inky slick and reddened.
The rain ran down in little trickles, little trickles that washed it all
away. It was wet and wonderful. Indigo blues and mars blacks and yellows
wouldn’t haunt him anymore. No little
dots to colour him, to choose his display.
Goodbye to all those lines that bound him in and confined what he could
say. Wrapping his purple cape around him,
he leapt into flight, revealing in his slick new tights freshly made third
dimension.
He had sent the paparazzi
packing. Ha. He was a god among ants and this new realm
outside the magic box was delightful.
All those idiots with their fickle little lightening cans, their “cameras”, were pressed into paper now,
reduced to the comic section. Maybe they
would make friends with Peter Parker and the likes. He, Enigmatic
man would be the headline maker now.
Look out citizens, there’s trouble in the making.
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