The squiggly presentation was the hallmark of Daphne’s chirography, unmistakable to him; his heart skipped a beat and then thumped on his chest wall as if begging him to read the beauty and wisdom of her words now! Of course he did.
She was a difficult one and getting her to put pen to paper was more than a little velitation, more so full battle requiring he and his lab assistants to goad her relentlessly (he was surprised at his ready ability to be cruel) and once enraged the words would eruct from her like some volcano simmering below the surface, suddenly spewing forth its matter in a violent torrent.
Her work was a strange masterpiece indeed for not only was she the subject of his research, clever little thing that she was, she was actually writing his research paper too. He could visualise it being poured over, scrutinised by his peers and then the acclaim, the acclaim, the acclaim!
He felt a smug smile crease his face, he sniggered; he had taken literally the challenge of the idiom "that a half-dozen monkeys provided with typewriters would, in a few eternities, produce all the books in the
." It was not that he expected her to scribe a
full library, rather a single tome of exquisite beauty, bursting at the seams
with infinite wisdom. British Museum
Only difference was, he had given her a cheap biro and no other monkeys or eternities needed thank you very much – just regular shocks from a cattle prod, until painfully defeated, she came up (screeching) with the goods.
Shared with the good folk at Poets & Storytellers United hosted by the lovely Magaly, cheers Magaly!
Image: Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Society New York