Short Fiction/Poem: Little Eight Year Old Boy

SHORT FICTION/POEM

LITTLE EIGHT-YEAR OLD BOY

This little eight-year old boy is up in the ceiling again!
He must be back to his usual pranks of rewiring fans and lights.
He replaces connections to switches, I really wonder his gain.
Right now, in the roof with pliers; where is the fright for heights?

I left my computer passworded but he gave me a guest account.
I thought I was the administrator, now how did he gain access?
I now pay him to gain access, I never knew this could amount.
This little eight-year old boy, seems to do his things in excess.

I left this boy with a bicycle and drove a car away,
this little eight-year old boy stumbled upon my bike,
he considered my giant bike too bulky and clumsy to sway,
so he used it’s part to convert his bicycle to a an automatic bike.

I left my car securely locked and took away the keys,
knowing fully well that this junkie boy was actively at home.
This little boy found his way around, as easy as eating cheese.
Though little and eight years old, he maneuvered my car to Rome.

I wonder where he is, and what has become of him.
This little eight-year old boy has probably amassed wealth and fame.
I need to figure out a way to make his exaggerations trim.
I really would have googled him but I can’t remember his name.

Nnamonu Tochukwu.
Teecee.
I had so much fun composing this short fiction/poem, in response to Weekly Writing Challenge: And Now For Something Completely Different. I’ve never done short fiction, but I chose to give it a try.
A beautiful post; “You Have Heard of Google, Right?” inspired my cast and story line.
Thanks, whatimeant2say, for that beautiful inspiration.
I just hope you enjoy it as much as I’ve done.
This really is something completely different, for the weekly writing challenge.

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About teeceecounsel

Who am I really? Can that be defined yet? Probably by the time I'm long gone and all the pieces of my activities are compiled and analysed then you can know what you want to know about me. Meanwhile, I write. Not because I love writing but because I love people. I love to care and love to share. I'm a deep thinker and I love to believe in the impossible. The ideal is attainable and a shot at it must be given. Don't say 'It won't work' rather ask 'how will it work? Nobody is ever doomed unless they made the choice. To resist good and to adopt evil is already doom. To loose hope is to choose doom but to believe that every step is a passing phase leading towards your hope is to choose progress. I may go on and on but my posts say it all. I don't force you to agree, I only say enjoy!
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11 Responses to Short Fiction/Poem: Little Eight Year Old Boy

  1. šŸ™‚ what a fabulous poetry..loved it šŸ™‚

  2. That is fantastic! I can’t believe you turned my crazy post into such a wonderful poem – and in amazingly short time! Great job!

  3. abichica says:

    what a beautiful poem.. šŸ™‚

  4. Reblogged this on whatimeant2say and commented:
    So, I must share this wonderful poem that was written, based on my recounting of a pathological liar’s tale in yesterday’s post. Love it!

    • Thanks much for the reblog, whatimeant2say! The pathological liar has given us an eight-year old wonderboy who is probably roaming in Rome right now! šŸ™‚ Such liar should be deployed to the world of fiction and fantacies rather than being left in the society to distract people with lies. I’m still enjoying the imaginations he has triggered!

  5. Pingback: Poem: I Wish I Were Wishing All Of These | Wise Counsel

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