The first and third Wednesday of the month arrives with anticipation. A group of us, unofficially called the High Colonics, get together and have Vowel Movements. During these meetings one of our esteemed group is charged with a writing exercise. The results are scattered as a shotgun blast.
Tonight’s exercise was challenging, thanks to Brooke, the unofficial leader. Our assignment: Make up a word and in a brief story use the word without defining it. The reader must get the gist of the word. You have ten minutes, go!
The following drivel is my attempt:
We waited hours before another rig came along. We were stuck on the Road of Bones. It stopped, the occupants staring us down. I had a bad feeling. The Russians stepped out. The driver swaggered towards us, a Tomakov hanging from his belt. My buddy, drunk on vodka crossed his arms at shoulder level and said “Hi, how are you, Hi how are you.” The driver grabbed the Tomakov and threw it, wedging it into his forehead.
My Russian is shitty, but I think he said: “How’s your splitting headache you rat bastard.” I shook the Russian’s hand. My buddy was a pain in the ass. For two bottles of Vodka he pulled me from the mud and helped me bury my friend.
It is fascinating where inspiration and subsequent words come from. I immediately spliced known words and wasted time with chestnuts unmentionable here. A couple of minutes in, an image of a documentary about the Road of Bones followed by an Indian brave flashed in my head and then I connected the dots. Someone very close to me jokes: Pressure is good, insertion is bad. That idiom proved true in this case. The pressure forced the muse’s hand, the insertion caused a fatal headache.
One wonders what the next Vowel Movement will bring?