To test out my creative muse, Mistress Rochelle apparently worked out an international picture deal with everybody’s ever-smiling, favorite Canuck, Dale Rogerson. A summer day residential photo of the otherwise Great White North ginned up a fib about two Yanks looking about.
Click on Dale’s photo to open Rochelle’s page to read about how it’s done.
Genre: Travel Fiction Title: Canada Wry Word Count: 100
So, this is Canada, eh? Where’s all the people?
Inside. It’s too warm. Thirty don’t ya know?
That’s not warm?
Celsius. Eighty-six Fahrenheit. We’re north of North Dakota.
They use metric?
Yes and no. It depends.
What else do I need to know?
Canadians are the politest and friendliest people on Earth. They say “sorry” a lot.
That movie, One Week, made me want to move here even before 2016.
Yes. But Gunless is better. Funnier. We need to get out of here.
Dale is taking our picture. If we stay, we’ll be all over the internet by noon.
Look both ways because everybody has a camera these days.
Mind the gaps but be nice.
Keep your passport current and safe.
This is a trailer from the movie Gunless in case you wanna see what it’s like. I’ve not seen it, but may giver them a try.
Today’s NaPoWriMo assignment completed the first two weeks of writing a poem each day during April. Also called the “optional” daily prompt, it was (“a fun one”) to write a poem in the form of the opening scene of the movie about my life.
I contemplated possibilities and searched for ideas when I came upon the opening scene for the movie, My Life Without Me. It inspired me to shed self-awareness and identity with confused limited personal pronouns, to message with metaphor and simile, and to use immature grammar while maintaining context.
Cinematically, the movie would open with fuzzy, abstract, calm, overlapping, multiple images of a young child standing in the rain, eyes closed, oblivious to life and environment (but not in the poem). A faint heartbeat would be heard as the narrator recites the poem. The ellipses indicate that the poem does not start or finish (neither begins nor ends).
Page One Opens
…we are standing alone
in the wet warm rain,
an unashamed adam and eve;
my bare feet floating in sultry green grass
feels the soft spongy muggy earth;
your small, young hearts hear; your body
without clothing is not naked;
i am shielded by water;
they are you,
i am they without knowing or caring
for anything but the feel, sound, and
taste of innocent rain; i am new taste;
comforting sounds; our blind eyes closed;
neither night nor day; just warm
moist comfort and muffled senses
in neutral emotionless rain…
Look both ways and mind the gaps later. For now, just be.