I'm part of an association of writers, and we've a monthly challenge to use 10 of 15 randomly selected words to generate a short piece. Since my actual blogging time has been sacrificed to Reality, here's something from January 2010:
Ugh, moonlight, thought the hyena, trying not to choke on the dry sugar cookie he'd stolen from the warm-box inside the fence. When he'd crossed the lot, there had been clouds covering the brightness, and though there was no snack box full of chickens in this fence, the door to the warm-box was open, and he'd gulped down half a plate of hot things, tipping the plate to the floor with a fur-raising crash, before slinking away with a final one in his mouth. But now the clouds had gone. Running parallel to the shadow of the fence, quartz-coloured light sliding along his back and flanks, he thought of the gopher he'd had yesterday, and the one he almost had today, and the one he'd like to have tomorrow. Hot things on a plate from a warm-box were all well and good, but you couldn't really live on them. Gophers and chickens were what made the world go round.
Hyenas know nothing of monotheism, monotheism having been invented by a patriarchal society trying to wrest deity from women. A pack of hyenas is matriarchal, with each member of the pack having to put in a figurative oar for the common good. Kills are co-operative, and the young, elderly, and weak of the pack are encouraged to eat first, rather than be left with beak, neck or knuckle after the strongest have finished feeding.
Can we draw a parallel between a capitalistic and socialistic economy? Here we are in our urban tundra, fussing that our market is out of our favorite brand of Dijon ketchup while in a location not far from here, there is someone living without electricity or indoor plumbing. Darwinistic capitalism is all well and good, but I'm not certain it makes for civilized society.
Apologies for lack of actual content. I've so much material, but no time for transcription. I need more hours. Will someone send me some time? Mine gets used for things that aren't important, like meals and laundry and plumbing, rather than good stuff like writing.
(Words; Missing Persons)
