This post was written in response to Sacha Black’s third weekly prompt for 2017 (52 weeks in 52 words). Join in here!
Sacha will post one prompt a week for 52 weeks, and the challenge is to write a story in just 52 words exactly. Sounds like a fabulous idea. The value of conciseness for a writer is invaluable, as Sacha herself reminds us: ‘The art of being concise is nothing if not a muscle flexing ‘write’ bicep curling device’.
Today’s topic is 100, because it’s the 100 anniversary of Sacha’s writespiration weekly prompts.
100 is a bit of a daunting number, most of us will never reach that number of years, and let’s face it, tiny, limited, insignificant human beings that we are, if we can’t see it, hear it, feel it, understand it, or aspire to get there, we don’t believe in it, do we?
100 makes me feel tiny and huge at the same time.
Tiny because there are so many things I’ll never see, do, feel, hear, or understand, and huge because I’m part of that amazing, ever-expanding, wonderous universe I’ll never understand…
‘100 isn’t a lot, is it?
Seconds: 1.4 minutes
Minutes: 1.4 hours
Days: 3.4 months
Weeks: 1.9 years
Years: A century
1/10 of a millennium
1/5 of the Christian era
45/billionth of the age of the earth.
Not much, really.’
‘I’d like to live to 100.’
‘I’m quite sure I already have.’
When I think of big numbers, I think of grains of sand, flowers, stars, the ancient Egyptians, dead sea scrolls, star trek, the universe, eternity, life after death, the meaning of life before death, and things I don’t understand and perhaps never will, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t real, does it?
This reminds me of a poem by Brian Patten, A Blade of Grass
As I often do, I’ve credited and reworked an orginal work of art, to express what I’m feeling at this moment.
You ask for a star
I offer you 100 flowers.
You say it’s not good enough.
I say these flowers will do.
You say it is too easy to offer 100 flowers.
So I write you a tragedy about
How 100 flowers
Are so easy to give and so hard to accept.