NaPoWriMo - 2018 - Day ten - No-one understands, even as it is explained.

No-one understands, even as it is explained.

When you say

things aren't as they appear,

he thinks he understands, nods 

as if the pair of you are wise.

We none of us wise. I am not wise,

even with much more clue 

than him.

Later you hear him telling Betty

that things are not as they appear.

He has her pinned

in one corner of the kitchen,

one arm against the wall and leaning in.

She is nodding

to pass the time until

she can escape back to her desk

and all the time you're telling this to me:

things aren't as they appear, you say,
I only wish I could get to my desk
and talk to the machines.

---

From Marie Lightman's prompt if somewhat perpendicularly.

NaPoWriMo - 2018 - Day nine - The tiniest of details

The tiniest of details...

A cosmic ray strikes Abby's brain
as she sleeps beneath her winter-cold duvet
and when she awakes, a tiny message
blinks before/behind her eyes:

"safety protocol disengaged"

but she takes no notice,
blinks it away before she wakes,
makes coffee; double strength
and with triple sugar without a thought.  No it's

Kevin first notices the change
when she jumps him by the coffee machine,
drags him into the copy room
and has her way, which is wickeder

that Kevin ever dreamed: underwear flying,
until Ed spots the pair, somewhat dazed
still lying, and Abby seduces him as well.  And then
to the Professional Development Committee

where Watkins is the same hide bound reactionary
as always, but it turns out that you can beat
any weaselly argument if you beat
the arguer unconscious with a swivel chair.

NaPoWriMo - 2018 - Day eight - Can you give us examples?

Can you give us examples?

The barely mentioned character in somebody else's biography
The door that isn't opened, even once, during an entire film
The small coin only seen for a moment as it bounces down a grating
The biro you pick up, scrub on the paper, then drop back into the drawer

That person you really liked, but never managed to get on with
That day you had the detailed todo list, and didn't do any of it
That piece of clothing you bought in an fit of individualism and never wore
That tool which is perfect for the job, which you only bang clumsily against things

This sharp corner on this table here
This inexplicable small tax deduction
This queue, longer than you've even seen here before
This slight tear in your favourite jacket

Those steps up the hillside which fail to have an end
Those people employed to stop you having what you want
Those rules, the ones you were not told about
Those reasons to keep living, the ones you cannot quite recall