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Hahahahaa. loved it Judy. I've been reading Roald Dahl lately & though this is even more minimal than his short stories, there's a definite resemblance¯especially in the connections between characters, or in the characters. brief, but very real, personalities. and no real ending (unlike Dahl, who likes puns & things), though the husband-bit is a minor revelation that tastes mildly of a RD-ending. great write. KS On 09/08/06, judy prince <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > Bea's Lovely Poetry Workshop > > > "We've been coming to this workshop for upwards of 6 years now," said Evelyn Utter, "and after last week's workshop we met for tea, coffee, crackers, biscuits and scones at the Buck and Ram. Once Oliver had gone home, we swiftly came to a decision---not one dissenting vote!" > > "Well? And what was it?" said Bea. > > "We want to change everything we've been doing in the workshop to make it more ... interesting." > > "I'm all ears!" Bea said, listening with only half an ear. > > Evelyn had lost her courage. After all, she had only written 14 poems in 6 years---which the other participants had told her was because of the boringness of the workshops. She nudged Angela. > > Immensely uncomfortable in confronting The Poetry Authority (which was Bea), Angela nevertheless proclaimed: "We want things to look at!" > > "Like what?" > > "I should think a good start would be flowers ... " Angela said, beginning to falter. > > "Fine. Why don't we arrange for one of us to bring flowers from home each week? That settled? Ready to do poetry, my dear workshoppers?" > > Angela seemed comforted. But Evelyn was clearly not to be put off so quickly. "We need more than flowers!" she yelped. "We need something more than that!" > > Bea determined that she would not only make her participants happy, but she would give them quite a surprise. "Tell you what. Next week I'll arrange for you to have 'something more than that', and if you're still wanting more, we'll discuss it again." > > The participants, in various postures and expressions, relented. They'd give it a whirl. Nothing to be lost by seeing what happened next week. They took up their notebooks and scribbled their versions of what had just happened, trying to make it sound poetic. > > The following week, Bea came into the bare workshop room with a bouquet of gardenias in a glass vase. Evelyn and Angela sat in front and exclaimed at the flowers' beauty and fragrance. You could see that they felt it was fine----but not enough to be 'something more interesting'. > > The other three participants came in, followed by a tech person who brought in 5 easels. He put them in front of each participant's chair, and then brought in a chaise longue which he placed in the center of the room in perfect view of the workshoppers. Then he left. > > The door opened and an arm extended, its fingers holding the tip of a black velvet something. In came the rest of the person, a red-haired man covered with a full-length cape. He strolled past the workshoppers toward the room's center, bent and smelled the gardenias, selected one and gave it to Evelyn. > > Then he unfastened the braid frog at the cape's top, swished off the cape, twirled it around and flung it onto the chaise longue. Then he reclined, nude, on the chaise. > > Evelyn's gardenia trembled. Angela gripped her notebook. No one, not even the naked man, moved. > > "We'll have him do 60-second poses first so that we can write or even sketch on the easel with heightened emotions and rapid reactions. Since we've become such a democratic group of late, perhaps you'll have suggestions as to his poses," Bea said and waited. > > "Yes, I should think he'd be more comfortable if he had a pillow behind his head," Angela ventured. > > She always sat on a cushion brought from home, so she stood, took the cushion to the chaise and placed it under his head. He thanked her with a gleaming smile. > > Evelyn stood up suddenly, walked quickly to the chaise and moved the man's left leg up onto it. > > Angela was shocked. "Don't you think that's a bit forward!" > > Evelyn countered, "It's up, not forward." > > At last the man spoke: "I am perfectly comfortable with however you decide to arrange me. Feel free." > > The three other participants rushed up and began arranging the man who was beginning to enjoy himself immensely (as was difficult not to notice). > > Bea thought, on balance, that her solution had caught on quite nicely and that her husband wouldn't mind. He was always a good sport and didn't mind drafts. >