Post by McGonagallsGirl on Jun 23, 2008 23:21:40 GMT -5
I can't believe I've never thought of this before! It's one of my favorite poems.
Here's the challenge:
Based on this lovely poem, create a story, length optional.
Loosely based, strictly based, take your pick.
Feature the poem at the beginning or the end, but not throughout because I've always been of the oppinion that doing that detracts from the actual story. It's one of my 'Miss Jean Brodie' quirks, please forgive me.
Put Harry there to observe the whole thing.
Die—you can't do that to a cat.
Since what can a cat do
in an empty apartment?
Climb the walls?
Rub up against the furniture?
Nothing seems different here,
but nothing is the same.
Nothing has been moved,
but there's more space.
And at nighttime no lamps are lit.
Footsteps on the staircase,
but they're new ones.
The hand that puts fish on the saucer
has changed, too.
Something doesn't start
at its usual time.
Something doesn't happen
as it should.
Someone was always, always here,
then suddenly disappeared
and stubbornly stays disappeared.
Every closet has been examined.
Every shelf has been explored.
Excavations under the carpet turned up nothing.
A commandment was even broken,
papers scattered everywhere.
What remains to be done.
Just sleep and wait.
Just wait till he turns up,
just let him show his face.
Will he ever get a lesson
on what not to do to a cat.
Sidle toward him
as if unwilling
and ever so slow
on visibly offended paws,
and no leaps or squeals at least to start.
-- Wislawa Szymborska
Here's the challenge:
Based on this lovely poem, create a story, length optional.
Loosely based, strictly based, take your pick.
Feature the poem at the beginning or the end, but not throughout because I've always been of the oppinion that doing that detracts from the actual story. It's one of my 'Miss Jean Brodie' quirks, please forgive me.
Put Harry there to observe the whole thing.
Die—you can't do that to a cat.
Since what can a cat do
in an empty apartment?
Climb the walls?
Rub up against the furniture?
Nothing seems different here,
but nothing is the same.
Nothing has been moved,
but there's more space.
And at nighttime no lamps are lit.
Footsteps on the staircase,
but they're new ones.
The hand that puts fish on the saucer
has changed, too.
Something doesn't start
at its usual time.
Something doesn't happen
as it should.
Someone was always, always here,
then suddenly disappeared
and stubbornly stays disappeared.
Every closet has been examined.
Every shelf has been explored.
Excavations under the carpet turned up nothing.
A commandment was even broken,
papers scattered everywhere.
What remains to be done.
Just sleep and wait.
Just wait till he turns up,
just let him show his face.
Will he ever get a lesson
on what not to do to a cat.
Sidle toward him
as if unwilling
and ever so slow
on visibly offended paws,
and no leaps or squeals at least to start.
-- Wislawa Szymborska
