Hectogram + Flight
Exciting news! I finished my 6th draft of the novel and I'm currently in the process of interviewing editors, which is terrifying like allowing someone's ghost to enter your body so that you can experience pottery with your true love. (sweet totally current movie reference bro! Thanks me!)
The other exciting news is that I'm back at it! Writing whatever comes to mind from two words. The words this week "Hectogram + Flight" were generated by a random word generator. Though the word hectogram actually refers to a holographic being comprised from the sweetness of the top 100 grandmothers. What? Did you think Heaven's like some big retirement home made of clouds? Heck no, the capital G puts sweetness to good use!
"The Hectogram has peered into the multiverse and has absolute knowledge that you tried your hardest Tyler. Here, have a warm cookie."
"Thanks Hectogram..." *crunch crunch crunch*. "uuuh huck! Bees phaspe beble'fiph!"
"The Hectrogram reminds you not to speak with your mouth full."
Or if you use a regular dictionary Hectogram just means 100 grams. But I did a little play on words. Instead of using the Latin route of gram (gramma: a small weight) I'm using the Greek route, which is also gramma but means "something written". Like in the word telegram. So without further ado, or abject digressions I present: Flight. Written in 100 words.
Fused furcula expands by half of its original width providing structures for the supracoracoideus, which shortens extending the wing. But self-generated aeronautic locomotion is about more than huge pectorals and highly complex beta-pleated keratin knives cutting through the air. It’s about understanding and occupying the world in three dimensions. No earthbound creature knows the sensation of dancing with wind; a capricious partner rarely experienced as a single entire entity, whose body is sliced into turbulent eddies by myriad branches, and compressed into waterfalls rolling off the sides of every building.
Heavy in bone, naked of feather I can only fall.