I am a piece of furniture, perhaps an end table (not a dining table), Vases are set upon me. Fine layers of dust accumulate. Sometimes I'm cleaned, but never thoroughly. Just something there, in some room, ignored. I am, and that's about it.
I'm tired, and my daughter drained me today. I was thinking of a few little poems about mediocrity (though I've traveled these halls before) because mediocre people that I know are annoying the hell out of me. This needs much work.
Since your focussing on mediocrity I think you should take the idea you wrote in the comments and run with it. Have a character walking a hall and checking out the pictures on the wall of mediocre people. Something like "There's my uncle, he invented laziness."
2 comments:
I'm tired, and my daughter drained me today. I was thinking of a few little poems about mediocrity (though I've traveled these halls before) because mediocre people that I know are annoying the hell out of me. This needs much work.
Since your focussing on mediocrity I think you should take the idea you wrote in the comments and run with it. Have a character walking a hall and checking out the pictures on the wall of mediocre people. Something like "There's my uncle, he invented laziness."
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