Some Word Slingers product from this morning's session and their associated prompt.
Spare me, it's just a blank canvas.
Yes, but that's the point.
Okay, I'm intrigued. Go on.
Um, that's it.
What? That's it? If that's just a blank canvas, I'd call that a stretched canvas.
Aha. Cute. You're not really into this, are you?
No, I think I'm getting the hang of it. It's just that as a gaseous being, sentient for sure, but relatively formless and colorless, my perceptions align across several different spectra that are currently well outside your ken.
So you going with that one? I'm colorless and undefined. I do reckon there's a vicinity of some nameless scents, unless I'm having a stroke. You're obviously capable of dialogue.
Maybe I'm just beauty-blind. It's been a lovely visit, I'll grant you that and I do enjoy our exchange.
Prompt: Let me tell you about the time I was invisible
* * * * *
No doubt there'll be a job posting for a new senior program manager on Indeed and LinkedIn within the hour. It wasn't so much that the party was out of control, it was just invisible. If you looked around the office, things seemed like a regular mid-week, mid-afternoon slump, the effect of hastily eaten lunches now midway in process of digestion and the familiar but crushing routines rounding on overdrawn late night streaming.
It's come to this. Showing up was trigger enough, and the project management role had devolved to a lowly pedestrian form of cruise director.
Some holiday shindig even with the budget recession. Party favors was filling out the checklist. The crescendo was reading out the results of a survey. The walls were covered in tabloid-size Excel printouts , artless pixelated grids of fading four color toner. The supply cabinet had grown skinny with irregular restockings of mostly non-requested stationary seconds and castoffs.
Prompt: Wild party
* * * * *
Delayed and deferred. I could of waited for them.
Prompt: If I knew then, what I know now
