bettybarker

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Licking my lips, I struggled on through the baking desolation of my backyard. The plants had all died, the grass was a nondescript yellowish colour, and the trees were drooping earthwards. "Must have liquid," I moaned, "Where is the beer?"

magazines

The floor was littered with glossy magazines - beauty, fishing, crafting, gossip - you name it, it was there. Some of the pages had been turned down at the top corner and many of them had been tossed disdainfully aside as if in a tantrum.

half

Half the cake was sitting on the plate, beautifully iced and decorated in keeping with its theme. Beautifully, that is, if you ignored the crack in the icing, through the word 'Congratu'... The other half of the cake was smashed into the floor, scattered across the terracotta tiles like so many ant creatures, making their way across the plain of Nullaboor and into infinity. There was no way out of this dilemma. Honesty would have to be the best policy. "Hey, Guys!' Who wants half a piece of cake?"

writing since 2012 · 46 entries · 44 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Benson showed up.

15longest streak

44days written

3.3entries / week

on this day 14 years ago

Benson wrote about texts
“The ancient texts lay mouldering in the jar under the table, obscured by the heavy parchments that had been unrolled years before. The search for the answer to that particular question would be never…”

the words Benson reaches for

floorbedmotionhairwarmforwardheadbodybucketcoldtastecakewordtoppickedhand