Tweet Tales Tuesday Week 192

We’re now a full week into the new TV season, and I’m not much happier than I was last week. I did like Blindspot and Limitless more than I thought I would, but they still didn’t suck me in like some shows in the past (Sleepy Hollow and Lost are examples of pilots I loved from the very start). I thought Life in Pieces was horrific; I didn’t crack a single smile even though it was a ‘comedy’. There were a lot of great actors in it, and I was embarrassed for all of them. I also gave Minority Report a second chance, but I’m now officially out – while I still like the idea, the execution is boring, paint by numbers. More shows are starting this week, so hopefully something will really wow me. In the meantime, here are my 15 Minute Tweet Tales for the week:
9/23 - Thunder cracks as he says his vows. His new mother-in-law whispers, "Absit omen," but the couple ends up divorced in less than a year.
9/24 - For hours,the dog chews a hole into dog food container. Just as he reaches the first piece of kibble, the garage door goes up. C'est la vie.
9/25 - A wish to always play stunning music. Fingers touch keys, a melodious treat. But compelled to play da capo until bone clicks against ivory.
9/26 - "Excusez-moi, you look like Juliette Binoche." She knows his accent is fake and isn't the only lie in that sentence, but she still blushes.

15 Minute Tweet Tales

9/27 - She stares at him, wishing for a montage of cute moments to get them to the comfortable part. Damn romantic comedies - dating is hard!
9/28 - She knew they didn't have enough evidence to convict her, but she pleaded nolo contendere because more digging might uncover worse crimes.   
9/29 - She didn't hate cauliflower per se, she just thought they looked like brains. When her boss served them, she ate them with her eyes closed.
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?


xiaojun's picture

20170524 junda

Valued Visitor's picture

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.

ppst 2017.8.21

Juliophopy's picture

Hi, 47bce5c74f589f4867dbd57e9ca9f808, check

Juliophopy's picture

Hi, 47bce5c74f589f4867dbd57e9ca9f808, check

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