Tuesday, October 7, 2008

62.

Melanie had seen and heard all that she could stand so she leaped into the air, borrowing athleticism from the ether. She landed accessorized with a shiny thigh band, formerly the jaws of her would be captor, it made her feel like an amazon or Xena or one of the 'vixens' from the WWE. She'd need every confidence that she could contrive after walking into a real life horror film, the zombie-like creature's droning seemed to increase as the distance between them closed . No more would be saviours, no more tardy teachers, she was in this on her own, the architect of her own destiny. She clenched her fists, bracing for the final confrontation.

"Ahem, excuse me. Sir, Maam, I need a hand please." said a man dressed in bright red & yellow.

1 comment:

lorenhops said...

I wrote this while watching the weakest link. Words can't fully encapsulate my distaste for TV game shows. For me they're a harsh reminder of the legacy of the baby boomer generation. I can't help but visualize 50 something’s wasting away while bloating up on potato chips and coke as they're overwhelmed by superfluous trivia. Now, the WWE and Xena, that's quality television right there. It's all a matter of taste I guess.