This week’s words to play with: Problem Pithy (brief, forceful, and meaningful in expression; full of vigor, substance, or meaning; terse; forcible) Scuttle Accumulate Wince Truck Unshaven Rictus (the gaping or opening of the mouth) Caitiff (base, despicable person) Flotsam Sapling Dump
When Johnny Lightshow woke up that morning he had a burning desire to be pithy and the best place for him to be pithy was to start a blog and write his pithiness onto the screen before him and then put it out there for all to see.
Like so many bloggers Johnny wanted to accumulate as many followers as he could. There was prestige among his mates when he was able to state that he had in the first week accumulated one hundred and twenty-three followers.
Blogging wasn’t as easy as Johnny thought. He had a problem with spelling; thank goodness someone had invented the spell check.
Along the way he tried his hand at many writing prompts. The wordle was a real challenge and he found himself dumping much of his writing as so much time was taken consulting the dictionary.
Being of limited education he struggled with poetry. When he visited poetry blogs he would wince at the strange language before him. Often his face would betray his concerns, as his mouth would often be frozen in a puzzled rictus as he tried to make head and tails of what he read.
He decided it was best if he didn’t take any truck from the poems that rhymed as that hurt his brain too much. Nor did he take any truck from the caitiffs who criticised his efforts, who ridiculed his words as being literary flotsam. Johnny didn’t know what that meant but it didn’t sound so good so he quickly unfollowed all those who treated him in that way.
One day he wrote a poem that received acclaim from his readers:
My dad was unshaven most of the day
He never worked as his back hurt
So he made me lunch, read me stories
Told me I could be anything I wanted to be.
My dad was unshaven day and night
His beard tickled me when he kissed me goodnight
One day he showed me a small sapling
He told me it would grow into a mighty gum tree.
My dad was unshaven the day he died
He held my hand, said be strong
To not scuttle through life
But to walk tall, proud of who I am.
Johnny winced when he read through his poem, wondering what the intellectual giants might say of his humble words.
There was nothing but praise and he had accumulated ten more followers.