BLOGGER WHISPHERS

1. Mr. Streetsider sir, there's a bullet somewhere with your name on it.
2. Really digging this mass writing biz. Shall we publish when we're done?
3. Here goes nothing.

The instructions:
1. You take the story, and give it your own unique twist.
2. Link back to the blogger who whispered to you and or include their name in your post.
3. Whisper the new challenge into the ear of a blogger of your picking.
4. Let them know by leaving a comment at theirs.
Pass it on with the instructions!

Maama Jacob woke with a start. Her body and bed were drenched in a cold sweat and ice clamped around her heart. It didn't help that even with her eyes wide open, swinging from one corner of the room to another, she could see nothing. The darkness was total. She took a deep breath and fought the irrational urge to lunge for her bedside torch.

She'd had a horrible, horrible dream. Of that she was sure. What she couldn't remember was what it had been about. Something about a luminous computer screen. But that was stupid. The only computer she'd ever had- which, at that moment was sitting under a pile of old stuff in the store- hadn't worked in eons! What could have been so frightening about a mere computer?

'Return of the killer Mackintosh', she mocked herself, trying to still her vibrating heart. No, that wasn't nearly scary enough. 'Night of the living PC'. That felt okay but surely she could do better. And then she had it. Sounding a drum roll under her breath, she said as loud and as clearly as she could, 'THE MOUSE'. That elicited a chuckle from her. Suddenly, she felt worlds better. She decided to go check on her babies since she was up.


Ellyn made her way carefully through the dark corridor. She knew every turn and potential trip point in her head. For her, switching on the light, after that nasty dream, would have meant she was afraid. She wasn't. When she reached the room Jacob shared with his little sister, she switched on the light . Standing by the door, watching them sleep, she was reminded of how easily she could have had no one to take care of. Jacob, she'd expected. She didn't regret what she'd had to go through, even as her mind shied away from the string of events that had brought him to her. Sarah on the other hand, was a total miracle, she was born a year and a half after Jacob. She'd been totally unexpected. Maybe...maybe if she'd known that all she had to do was wait a little longer, she wouldn't have... but that was all in the past now. Best to look ahead.

Sarah slept peacefully: on her tummy with her palm cupping her sweet apple-round cheek. She was a beautiful child. So beautiful that sometimes, it hurt looking at her. She'd inherited her daddy's long face but had put her own little label on it with her shapely nose, full lips and long lashes. She'd be a beauty one day. Problem was, she knew it and used it against any and everyone.

Jacob,on the other hand, slept with nary a trace of softness. He lay on his back with his bed covers tossed to his waist. He seemed rather ...stiff. For the first time, Ellyn noticed his arms taut at his sides, one little clenched fist visible. He seemed to be resisting something in his sleep. The idea worried her and she rushed to sit at his bedside. She stroked his face and his little fist, all the while whispering promises of comfort and safety, telling him how much he meant to her. She hoped he could hear her from wherever he was. Her dear, dear boy.

Maama Jacob. That's what they called her but she han't felt like his maama in ages. They used to be joined at the hip when he was smaller but lately, well, they weren't. Was it right for a boy so little not to need his mummy? These days, the only person he seemed to open up to was Hez, and even that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

Hez the grouch. She smiled at the thought. He spent so much energy acting mean, no wonder he always looked tired and irritable. It made sense that he didn't want anyone's pity but surely he could discourage it in another way. He did such a good job of playing ogre that almost everyone half feared, half revered him. But with Jacob it was different; he actually seemed to love the boy! If she had no other proof of Hez's goodness, that alone was enough.

She was brought out of her reverie by a little hand clutching hers. When she looked down, Jacob was awake, silently enduring her mindless caress. She watched, startled, as twin tears seeped out of the corners of his eye's . Holding her palm to his cheek, he whispered brokenly,

" I won't let me hurt you mummy. Promise."

Okay. that's all folks. I'm whispering this in Esquire's ear.

Amorphophallus Titanum

That right there is someone's idea of a scientific name. I'm either getting smarter or the namers are getting dumber. I remember when I could hardly pronounce the things: Enchilada Arachnida detrathopalas. That one's made up but it used to be that bad.

Amophallus Titanum'sa good, solid name! This flower's real name is "corpse flower".Yep, there are flowers out there named after dead bodies. I hear it's the biggest flower in the world. Wonder why they called it a corpse flower? No, it does not look like a spread out dead body at night... No, it doesn't grow on abandoned bodies, or graves, or crypts or whatever you're thinking.

Here's a hint: It emits chemicals with names like Cadavarene and putricine.

THE BUDGET 2009

Budget Breakfast, Hotel Africana

8:30 am

Points to note; a) ****is not going to make my life easy. I need to resign myself to that little fact... What's with the Honourable Minister making rounds... Didn't catch his name but I shook his hand. Yey.

7- 7:50: Budget Breakfast
7:50- 7:55: Introductory remarks by Secretary
7:55- 8:00 Welcome remarks, President
8:35-9:00: Tax implications of the budget
9:00...

I think I don't like****. It's something to do with the evil grins. Yeah, the breakfast is going very well, thanks. It's going so well, I want to leave.

I don't feel bad, I just feel ill used. But here, I can take all the calls I want. So maybe it's not that bad & God knows, if I was doing this by myself, I'd have this thing down in one. I hate the budget breakfast.

That looks like a sturdy shoe. A bit scary but none the less, firm on the ground. I'm sitting near a dustbin. It looks like a small pillar but I know it's a dustbin. WBS reporter. Crass. I'd say he's ill bred but there's something bout his face that suggests deliberate impunity.

Shouldn't be complaining. The part I was looking forward to went really well. Breakfast. But I'm mad that I have to be on the registration detail when the love of my life is sitting at a table facing where I was sitting!!!! Most gorgeous accountant I ever laid my eyes on. Reeked of power (shiver, shiver). I could have made eyes at him all morning but check were I am, aargh!!!!

Woosa

Wish I'd worn jeans. I'd never have unleashed my power skirt if I'd known I was gon' be a bouncer.

I see pretty shoes but I ain't getting into that. My prettiest pair hurt my feet the most. I look at them and I think to myself, corns, chilblains, bunions, and other ailments we learnt in Home Econ. Then I wear them. Who remembers the kid who said they knew Elbow Grease and then proceeded to describe what kind of tin it came in and what it looked like. Lol. That was funny.
Anyway, the highlight of this situation is that I don't have to take any bleedin' notes. I bet *** never thought of that. Huh!

Eh-eh, some ki man just came at me with a vague smile and stole my pen! Smile. People are looking.

PR's good. Its what I would describe as a smile-bang affair; smile in public, bang my head against the wall (till I bleed) in private.We aim to please.

See you at next year's breakfat. I mean breakfast.

CHOOSE THOUGHT OVER EXCITEMENT

Some one said something that I can't get out of my head. He said, " It's high time we exchanged excitement for thought" . He said it to a crowd but I felt like he was talking about me. Hi, my name's Elle and I'm an adrenaline junkie. I've been clean 12 hours (not by choice).

I shared the idea with a friend, later that night;

me: Brother had a point. Maybe thought should replace excitement in my life.

Her: Really?

Me: Yeah, it would save me quite a bit of unnecessary drama. Then in a moment of rebellion: but thought never put food on the table!

Her (all excited now): True, true, and yet. . . excitement could put you on the table.

That clinched the deal. We're sticking with excitement.