… in which I take three words from my Word Box and use them in a short piece of creative writing.
The words:
- proctaglia – a severe anal pain
- bailiwick – a person’s specific area of knowledge, authority, interest, skill, or work
- bibelot – a small object of curiosity
And now the writing:
“Jimmy,” Don says, looking me up and down, his teeth clamped hard around that infernal cigar of his. “You are an acute and chronic proctaglia.”
“A what?”
“Look it up. It’s appropriate.” The cigar shifts sides as Don moves over to clean up my mess.
The bibelot lies in pieces. If it ever held magic, the magic is now welll and truly dispersed. I guess. Magic’s not exactly my bailiwick.
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