Word of the Day: purfle

I’ve learned another valuable truth about stalking ideas. Sometimes, they bite back and bring their friends. As you might also guess, they tend to not fight fair. I decided to share the details of this harrowing experience in…

Today’s Word:


As in:

Hunting the wild idea, Day 200

I was on the trail of an especially wily idea, one that looked like it would easily lend itself to all manner of hilarity. It had a strangely curved jaw line, which could have serious potential, as well as an unusual gait. I could only guess at the bounty this creature would offer my muse, the Ministry of Funny Walks might find itself revived.

From my vantage point, behind a bush with painful thorny branches, I could spy my quarry, observe its habits, then move in for the kill, wrestle with its wispy tendrils to wrangle its wriggly self to my will.

It was then I leaped, weapon ready. I slashed. In the confuse of the moment, I noticed little things that would make for good stories later, when I had this beast dispatched. The critter, who seemed to have teeth and other sharp bits everywhere, used its oddly placed pincers to take a chunk out of my shoulder.

The pain forced me to look up. It was then I realized this idea had friends, and they were gathered all around. Monsters of all shapes and sizes, with teeth on arms and claws on backs and more eyes than Argus. They loomed over me like the thickest forest. Did I mention they were huge?

I felt all was lost. This host of ideas would wash over me. I would never be able to focus on just one at a time! While I worked on one, a dozen of its buddies would be nibbling on my toes, while the other dozen would work over my soft, squishy middle. Fear overcame me, and I was frozen, unable to move or think.

The wasted little time, and grabbed me. I was at their mercy, hands tied and hope lost.

Captivity, Day 8

I have not been able to discern what these beasts want with me. I do not know why they are keeping me alive. One of them, a strange notion, looked like an envelope lined with teeth. It had been purfled on one side, the markings even going through the spot where a stamp and return address would have been, It floated near my head, threatening to bite or perhaps shout at me. I laughed. This idea was little more than a derivative! It wasn’t original at all, it was nothing more than a Howler with different colored paper! Laughter broke its power over me, and it vanished in a puff of smoke.

Captivity, Day ?

Sitting in a room, tied to a chair with nothing to do but be tortured by ideas and think, I finally began to formulate an escape plan. The problem was timing, and would depend on a touch of luck. I started by working loose my bindings, hoping that my efforts would escape the notice of my captors.

Captivity, Day ?

I continue to drown under a flood of ideas, each one simultaneously more tempting and more dangerous than the last. They taunt me, filling me with motivation and inspiration to act and yet, in my state, I cannot bend them to my will. My hands are tied. Couldn’t I get an idea to help me out of this mess?

The bindings on my wrists have finally become loose enough to attempt to escape. Dare I try? It seems the best course, but, fear is more powerful now than my captors.

Captivity, Day the next

Putting the plan into action, I surprised the least attentive of my captors while delivering food. I pummeled the aggravating idea, and slipped out the door.

Freedom, Oct. 11, 2010

My captivity seems to have lasted 41 days. I cannot believe it, and I feel the loss of that time, and the memory of my ordeal is painful and disappointing. I do not know what I can learn from this ordeal, but, at the very least, I can use make it into a thinly disguised metaphor and have one more story completed.


purfle / PER – full / to ornament the border or the edges of