Word of the Day: facinorous

Of course, when I originally wrote yesterday’s story, I had no intention of finishing it, and so, I had no ending for the story. But, following the success of the story, there came something of a mandate to finish it. At first, this I received with a great deal of consternation, because it meant that I had to figure out what the ending would be.

After a mild bit of strain, I was able to construct an adequate ending, and present…

Today’s Word:


As in:

The tree paused.

“Yes,” he said, it was my greatest downfall. No sooner had I discovered aposiopesis then I began to use it. I got to the point where I never once completed a story, or speech. It became so bad, that I found it difficult to even finish a sentence.

And then I met the witch. She was all that you know about witches and more, since she was really and truly a wicked witch. She was easily the cruelest person to ever inhabit this world. She liked to spread rumors about the adulterous habits of world leaders, distribute Ebola to fast food distributors, and spread ground up children on her toast. She was pure evil. I met her at a symposium on ancient Celtic magical cures, where she was preparing a countermeasure for all the good herbal remedies offered in every book of healing.

We began to talk, and I began telling her a story. It was an especially long, complex story, and was well loved by all. Right at the climax of the story, my aposiopesis kicked in, and I couldn’t continue the story.

As punishment, the facinorous witch turned me into a tree. She reasoned that my particular verbal malady was a true form of cruelty, in which I forced a willing audience to listen raptly, knowing all the while that I was not going to be able to reveal the ending of the story. Since this cruelty was worthy only of one as facinorous as she, she gave me the form of a tree, and allowed me to keep my
voice. She felt that a person who gave “stump speeches” for a living, should instead be a stump. And that is why, dear friend, that I am a tree gifted with a voice.”

The woman was silent for a moment and then asked,

“But, how did you ever get over your aposiopesis?”

“Well, I forced myself to speak in complete sentences, then in complete thoughts, until finally, I could complete a story once again. I realized how often I alienated those who would be my friends by leading them down a false trail that promised a complete story. Now, though I am a tree, I have friends.”

And with that, the tree grew silent, and the woman return home along the dusky path.

I think I’d rather not have had an ending to the story.

facinorous / fa – sin – OR –us / exceedingly wicked.