D'oh!
Only one story this week, and that's from me.
I had half expected a few rollicking pirate tales (what with the wooden leg) and some good old 'aarrgh's and 'heave-ho me hearties', but twas not to be.
Hey ho, as Captain Jack probably wouldn't have said.
This week's sentence was taken from Gustave Flaubert's 'Madame Bovary.'
It was:
'They heard in the passage the sharp noise of a wooden leg on the boards.'
Here's mine:
Dive's 'Call Me Matron'
Regrettably, nary a pirate in sight. I do, however, love the words 'scrimshaw' and 'fantod'.
Next week's sentence will be up and about tomorrow morning. If anything, it's even odder than this week's.
Woah!
Stop the press!
Vanda's back in Paris for a glorious mélange of two weeks' assignments rolled in to one.
Vanda's 'Literary Aspirations'
The best deconstruction of Flaubert you're ever likely to read and a great cast of supporting characters.
Awesome!
5 comments:
I missed it again, so sorry. I'll write for the next one, I swear.
Hi, Vanda! Hee hee. It's not compulsory to write a story every week and you write more than most so don't worry: the spanking cane stays in the corner.
What a glorious, strange tale!
Thank you, Ms.M. Strange rather than glorious. I was brought up on Victorian adventure stories and wonderful books like Moby Dick so I seems to have an affinity with such tales.
Dive: will we ever read the true story about Matron?
Vanda: thankyouthankyoufuckingthankyou! I'm off to sow some oats . . .
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