Thus Spake Mr. RoundSquare Chumoto
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| Blog Name: | Thus Spake Mr. RoundSquare Chumoto |
| Url: | http://www.myroundsquare.blogspot.com |
| Language: | English |
| Topics: | short stories, drama, fiction |
| Description: | as you read me, dear reader, then i am; as you read us (my work and i), dear reader, then we are (you, it and i). |
| Popularity: | 55 Followers |
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Road to Damascus iii ~ A Curious Engagement
Two months into our relationship, we announced an engagement. It was a very simple ritual. An agreement of undying union of love, confirmed by shared strong infatuation yawning in our hearts, pointing towards the hallowed belief and mutual admiration, cemented by the swapping of our rings—we exchanged our rings through Fedex—and a few other ceremonial formalities necessary for the condensed sacrament, pledged with our joint signatures, sealed by our mutual declarations, attested by.. bla bla bla. You see? It wasn’t a full-size convention as I am making it out!Friends and close relations discharged their due shower of goodwill messages—wishing us many happy returns on our
Two months into our relationship, we announced an engagement. It was a very simple ritual. An agreement of undying union of love, confirmed by shared strong infatuation yawning in our hearts, pointing towards the hallowed belief and mutual admiration, cemented by the swapping of our rings—we exchanged our rings through Fedex—and a few other ceremonial formalities necessary for the condensed sacrament, pledged with our joint signatures, sealed by our mutual declarations, attested by.. bla bla bla. You see? It wasn’t a full-size convention as I am making it out!Friends and close relations discharged their due shower of goodwill messages—wishing us many happy returns on our
Road to Damascus ii ~ Know Thyself
Before you could say Miss Muddah and Mr Fadduh, my ‘activities’ with Cherrie increased generously to statistical levels. Quote after quote, and epigrams woven in witticism adorned my profile wall. Some, clever and humorous, especially when I tagged her in an amorous poem: ‘Your intelligence inspires my humour that I end up lavishing generously in your wall.’ She’d say and my quick reply would be: ‘if you squander word for word with me, I shall suck all your sense of humour dry.’ Some, embroidered, especially when I sent her a daffodil: ‘How like a dream is this I see and hear! May fortitude bequeath on me the serenity to abstain as long as it lasts!’ And some
Before you could say Miss Muddah and Mr Fadduh, my ‘activities’ with Cherrie increased generously to statistical levels. Quote after quote, and epigrams woven in witticism adorned my profile wall. Some, clever and humorous, especially when I tagged her in an amorous poem: ‘Your intelligence inspires my humour that I end up lavishing generously in your wall.’ She’d say and my quick reply would be: ‘if you squander word for word with me, I shall suck all your sense of humour dry.’ Some, embroidered, especially when I sent her a daffodil: ‘How like a dream is this I see and hear! May fortitude bequeath on me the serenity to abstain as long as it lasts!’ And some
Road to Damascus [(i)Maiden Voyage ~ of flattery dripping flirts!]
‘Many times I have found myself on the Road to Damascus; many times I have been struck down and changed by the miraculous voice.’ In the beginning were those words. Those words were with my Facebook Profile. Those words were my Status Update. Those words became my sentence, and ensnared me into a quest in a literary Damascus only to be struck down many a time like Paul, but unlike the Good old Roman bachelor, a romantic escapade was the reason why I was criss-crossing this lonely stretch. The expedition was as melodramatic as my update that day—if you had cared to notice—but with scandals overtaking me, announcing me a public enemy—to be despised by the majority—one
‘Many times I have found myself on the Road to Damascus; many times I have been struck down and changed by the miraculous voice.’ In the beginning were those words. Those words were with my Facebook Profile. Those words were my Status Update. Those words became my sentence, and ensnared me into a quest in a literary Damascus only to be struck down many a time like Paul, but unlike the Good old Roman bachelor, a romantic escapade was the reason why I was criss-crossing this lonely stretch. The expedition was as melodramatic as my update that day—if you had cared to notice—but with scandals overtaking me, announcing me a public enemy—to be despised by the majority—one
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