The Only Non-Superfluous Speech

Daily Prompt: Seven Wonders

How to reduce language to seven words? Focus on the important ones. Coffee, espresso, latte, cappuccino, macchiato, americano, mocha.

See, with language, the key is understanding and the nuance of meaning. The ability to differentiate subtle variations in desires. A vehicle for expression.

Strip language back to those seven words, and everything else fades away. All concerns, all debates, all conflict. The only drama of the day is that demanding decision of which word to use in the morning. Which word to fully capture one’s intentions and encourage the embracing of a new day. All thought could be bent towards the resolution of that simple daily conundrum. A singular focus, embraced by all speakers of this sept-mot language.

And besides. It’s always been the only way humanity has ever understood one another. Over a cup of coffee.


Do You Understand the Words Comin’ Outta My Mouth?

Daily Prompt: Express Yourself


They didn’t get it. I had been perfectly clear and explained it multiple times. But was met with uncomprehending faces.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends.

‘In order for the facade to have the desired effect, we need to angle the windows in order to create a repeating pattern that expresses the client’s vision. But the angle has to be such that the apertures remain of a consistent facing and there are no conflicting sightlines.’ I paused and looked around the architect’s office for inspiration. The project team had been working on variations of the facade design for a few days, and I had sat through the various presentations impatiently. I couldn’t follow what any of them were driving at, and was eager to simply present my proposal.

The uncomprehending looks didn’t change though, even after this last foray into clarification. Then finally, one of them spoke.


My turn to look uncomprehending. He repeated himself, pointing at a particular corner of the model. I nodded sagely and sat back down.

Two weeks working in China and I realized it was going to be a steep learning curve.

Person of Indeterminate Gender I Saw Dumpster Diving This Afternoon Day

Daily Post: Honorific

Today is to be officially named ‘Person of Indeterminate Gender I Saw Dumpster Diving This Afternoon Day.’

And not just because glitter seemed to float in a cloud around them. Nor for the sparkly mini skirt worn over hairy legs. Nor for the cheap plastic trinkets they were bejeweled with. No. Today is their day because they are seizing it. They saw something they wanted, and they went for it, damn the consequences. They’re comfortable in their own skin. They don’t worry about societal judgement, condemning them for scavenging. What do we have to say that they haven’t heard before? Who are we to decide the acceptable standards of modern living. To each their own.

Stand up and be counted. This day is for you.

A Floppy-Necked Giraffe

Daily Prompt: Toy Story

He was a stuffed giraffe with a broken neck and his name was Giraffey. People always talk about the imagination and creativity of children, but, either that’s a complete myth, or my childhood self was lacking in that department. But regardless of the insignificance of the name, the significance of the toy was undeniable. It was my totem, see. My sisters and I were all born in Botswana, and so were given tribal names and totems by the locals. Thus I was christened Tebogo, and bestowed with the giraffe as my totem animal.

I’m not sure when the stuffed animal came into the picture, but it was there from my earliest memories, broken neck and all. And he’s probably still somewhere around my parent’s house, alongside a stuffed elephant and a stuffed hippo. Three siblings, who couldn’t be more different.

I Feel… Tomorrow Will Be Better

Not that there’s anything wrong with today! As far as todays go, this one’s doing pretty well. The sun is shining, I’m going to start blogging for my favourite NHL team, I work in a cafe, which is the best place for a writer to work…

No. No problems with today. But that doesn’t mean I don’t dream big. Tomorrow is going to be the greatest day of our lives. And then when tomorrow becomes today we’ll look back on today, now yesterday, and feel thankful that time has moved us on. 

I keep pushing tomorrow off though. I’m certain it’s going to be the most wonderful day of all, but every time I think I’m ready for it, I catch myself, and with a last longing caress, dreaming of gorgeous futures and potential, I let tomorrow become today, and push it back. Just one day more. 

I’ll be ready for tomorrow, tomorrow. Maybe. If tomorrow ever comes. 


Daily Prompt: Six of One, Half a Dozen of the Other

Living for Tomorrow

All this time spent thinking about living. And planning on living. But not getting around to just living.

There’s always tomorrow. I’ll begin doing amazing and wonderful things tomorrow. I just need today to rest and prepare. Fill the tanks. Ready myself. And then tomorrow I can write the most amazing novel ever written. Pen the most beautiful lyrics to a song ever sung. Sketch the most exquisite portrait, one that will leap right off the page.

I float around, hinting at things, but never landing on the surface of acknowledgement. But it’s true. It’s like I’m waiting for something undefined. Whenever concrete things arrive I panic and, though I still go ahead and do them, I’m almost waiting to return to stasis. Like there’s an overwhelming fear of change and movement and finality. I write, and in the random passages and vignettes created I feel I’ve discovered something beautiful. But I’m terrified of taking it to completion. What if it doesn’t make it? What if it doesn’t live up to it?

Nothing ever lives up to its promise.

So it hovers, on the edge of consciousness, something that could one day change everything. But instead it lies trapped in embryonic form. ‘So go! Live! Write!’ I tell myself. And fill my time with thoughts never fully formed, and dreams that evaporate like a mist upon waking.

There’s something there though. Something just waiting to form. To set. To be. Hopefully I can find it tomorrow.

Daily Prompt: Procrastination

Collaged Espresso Seraphim

A host on the wing, in formation, blazing across the sky. Too bright to see directly we instead stare down. Down into the crema on the surface of a freshly poured espresso. Cream colored, swirling in patterns that change and reflect and hint at the host gliding overhead, outshining the sun.

We look up again. It can’t be helped. Watching the collaged patterns of angels’ wings, bright against the clear blue of a cerulean sky. ‘It helps if you close your eyes,’ she says to me. And we do. Close our eyes, knock back our espresso, and smile as the shadows between wingtips caress our eyelids. The inverse of sunlight and shadow.

This is where we reside. On the knife edge between light and darkness. We hover here a while, content to balance, feeling the infinite shades of grey. Shadows within shadows, light within light.

And the Seraphim continue their flight, chasing the sun from the sky, forcing back the encroaching night.

Daily Prompt: Three-Tenths