February 7, 2008


Filed under: HUMOR,WRITING TOPICS — carolyncholland @ 10:18 pm
Tags: , ,

I found the writing below in my files. I once submitted it to a newspaper’s “bad writing contest.” As life goes, the piece was rejected. Perhaps I’m not the best, but it’s evidence I’m also not the worst!

To read an article on bad writing contests posted on the Beanery Online Literary Magazine, click on BAD WRITING CONTESTS

The notes blatted skyward as the sun rose over the Canada geese, feathered rumps mooning the day, webbed appendages frantically pedaling unseen bicycles in their search for sustenance, driven by cruel nature’s maxim: Ya wanna eat, ya gotta work.

And at last I knew Pittsburgh.


Pittsburgh—yes! In the glow of this day’s daring dawn, the reality of Pittsburgh was brought to the fore by the cacophony of ill-joined notes emanating not only from the flailing geese bur also from the uppermost residents of the tall buildings decorating the skyline along the city’s riverbanks.

As I observed the geese disappearing into the rosy skyline I patiently shuffled one foot ahead of the other, desirous of being led to an opportunity for work, which would allow me to prove the reality of a homo sapien’s ability to survive in Pittsburgh at least as well as the winged critters constantly circling round about the skyscrapers, which constantly drew my eyes upward. My great goal was to be self-supporting in this, my new-found home, and not to become dependent on my fellow man’s handouts, as did the grey-feathered avarians whom were also seen awaiting the ever present scraps of bread and popcorn tossed repeatedly at them by bored, base men slouching on park benches, who probably begged these remnants of food from disheveled shopkeepers.

Lo and behold, as my wandering eyes gazed at one of these, Pittsburgh’s feathered friends, my eye’s corner spotted a printed poster carrying a message to the world: HELP WANTED! And did I want to help! I mosied gently into the entrance of what turned out to be a tomato product factory. The blood-red liquid condiment, a very real part of the city’s historical dogma, was being bottled within the building’s crumbling walls. The help that was needed so desperately was that of a broom-pusher, which I anxiously agreed to undertake, so as to ensure at least one more day’s survival in this triangular city.

Naturally, as it will, break time came. Having no greater desire at the moment, I ambled over to the hired help’s outside refuge, when what should happen but WHOOSH! As a grey bird friend swooped down by me and then rose skyward. I watched him soar against high buildings with light reflecting off them when to my dismay something hit my face, SPLATT! SPLATT! With this anointing by a native pigeon, on my forehead, I could at long last say I not only knew but now had experienced the great city known as PITTSBURGH!!!

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