At our Writing Society meetings, our wonderful Disorganizer always starts us off with a little exercise to stimulate the writing muscles before we get into the business of the material that was prepared earlier. I don't usually blog these impromptu scribblings, but this time I will make an exception.The title of our most recent task was 'self-portrait'. The task was to think of two words that one does not associate with oneself, and two words that one does, and then include all four words in a short piece of writing. The time limit was 15 minutes.
My 15-minute text is here, unedited. I wonder who can guess which two words are bits of Bruce, and which two words are not.
Resolution
Sinking his fourth pint, he sank back into the dusty, partially de-upholstered sofa at the back of the pub, and a cherubic grin spread across his face. He watched the darts team in action. Darts is a sport, they say, and these guys were boisterous certainly, but only the kindest viewer could call them remotely athletic.
He removed the magazines from his bag - Men's Health, Slimming Weekly, How to Lose Inches Fast, Couch Potato News - and tossed them into the corner. No more of this. New Year.
He resolved, with pseudo-rebellious anti-narcissism, to pursue the path of righteousness no longer. He would grow old and fat, proudly and gracelessly.
