Tweet Tales Tuesday Week 203

15 Minute Tweet TalesI hope everyone’s holiday prep is going well. I managed a first this year – I ordered everything online. Even my sticking stuffers and Christmas cards, which I usually venture out to buy. But this year, I’m feeling more anti-crowd than usual, so I let my fingers do the shopping. It was awesome, although I’m not sure the UPS man would agree.
And now here are my 15 Minute Tweet Tales for the past week:
12/9 - It's quite the coup de theatre when Ebenezer drops dead in Act 1. Narrative twist? Actor drama? Tiny Tim screams, "He's not breathing."
12/10 - Eyes barely open, she stumbles into the bathroom and ends up with a wet butt. He left the seat up yet again. It becomes the dies irae.
12/11 - Warm relief floods her body as the priest murmurs, "Ego te absolvo." Of course, she hadn't confessed her impure thoughts were about him.
12/12 - The waitress asks, "What do you want?" Ivy says, "Je ne sais pas," and starts crying. Her ex ran her life for so long, she has no idea.
12/13 - Sweat dripped from the professor's filthy hair and food smeared his shirt. "Magister dixit" was not likely to cut it for his students.
12/14 - She watches the news hoping the whole Trump campaign is merely panem et circenses, but in her heart she fears de-evolution has begun.
12/15 - Tired of having ears tugged by Baby, Dog moves across the room. Baby learns solvitur ambulando after several attempts at first steps.
Play along and write tweet tales for the above words. If you’re willing to share, post them on twitter with the hashtag #15tt or add them below in the comments because I’d love to read them. Any thoughts about this week's tweet tales or #15tt words?


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And then the curtains were dropped, the watcher retired a little out of sight, and everything was subdued into absolute stillness. Mrs. Damerel sat down noiselessly in the background, and covered her face with her hands, and wept silent tears, few and bitter. She had felt him to be hard upon her many a day; she had seen what was wanting in him; but he was her husband, the first love of her youth, and her heart was rent asunder by this separation. She had enough to think of besides, had she been able; she had poverty to face, and to bring up her children as best she could in a world which henceforward would not be kind and soft to them as it had been hitherto. Her soul was heavy with a consciousness of all that was before her; but, in the mean time, she had room for no distinct feeling except oneā€”that her husband, her love, was going to be taken from her. This tremendous parting, rending asunder of two lives that had been one, was more than enough to fill all her mind; she had room for nothing more.

And he slept, or thought he slept, floating out of the vague pain and wonder of his waking thoughts into strange, vague visions, dimmer still, and then back again to the fancies which were waking and not sleeping. There was a dim impression of painfulness in them, rather than pain itself; wonder, curiosity, and that strange sense of an absolute blank which makes the soul giddy and the brain swim. Sometimes his mind seemed to himself to wander, and he got astray somehow, and felt himself sinking in an unfathomable sea, or striving to make his way through some blackness of night, some thorny wood in which there was no path. I suppose he was asleep then; but even he himself scarcely knew.

When he woke it was evening, and the lamp, carefully shaded, had been lit at the other end of the room. He liked the light; and, when he stirred and spoke, the watchers made haste to draw back the curtains. The serene evening sky, full of soft tints of reflection from the sunset, with breaks of daffodil light melting into ineffable soft greenness and blueness, shone in through the uncurtained window which he liked to have left so, that he might see the sky. Rose and her mother were close by the bright circle made by the lamp, one of them preparing some drink for him, the other opening a new bottle of medicine which had just been sent. Though it was all so familiar to him, the fact that he was to go away so soon seemed to throw a strangeness over everything, and gave a bewildering novelty even to the figures he knew so well.

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