The Hapless Child

Bug Thing

2010-09-25T17:13:00.000+01:00

Swine Flu!

2009-10-18T17:40:00.003+01:00

Well, here I am stuck in bed and feeling really pigged off - yup, I've got swine flu and it's a pig of a thing. So all I can do is sty in bed while my other half brings home the bacon. However, the outlook's positive as the Doc says I swill get better before we go to Scotland next week!

Guess that's enough of the pig stuff for now...I'm just going to trotter of back to sleep before I make any more of a pig's ear of this...

Night All xx

Red Riding Hood Focused Freewrite

2009-09-26T17:47:00.003+01:00

Who would think that one little girl could cause so much trouble? After all, everyone knows that it's a really stupid idea to go off alone into a huge dark overgrown forest - let alone through the ill-lit city streets - at night and alone. Stupid, stupid girl. Red coated - but that wasn't going to offer much protection was it? Surely it was more likely to shine as a beacon in the darkness "Look, here comes someone innocent and stupid enough to walk through here all one her own" - you could almost hear the wolves howling with laughter. But then. They weren’t to know. She would always get the last laugh - that was the irony of the red coat. The colour betrayed her true nature. But then wolves may be cunning but no one ever suggested that they were subtle - it’s not in their nature you see. So they mistook her red coat for innocence without a second thought and of course that would lead to their downfall. If only they'd thought it through - White, now that's a good colour for an innocent to wear isn’t it - everyone knows about virgin white, the symbol of purity, or perhaps they don't? The wolves certainly didn't seem to or, if they did then they made no association with other ways in which colours might provide clues. Red, the colour of blood, the colour of danger, the colour of lust. Following close on her heels they gave none of this a moments thought but rather concentrated on their own wild pulsing passions, the thrill of pursuit and the chase to come. For surely she would run and then they would chase and oh, the pleasure it would bring. The very thought caused the blood to run all the faster through their veins as they slunk in the shadows hanging on her every footstep and impassioned by the thought of what was to come.

Just having a go at a typed freewrite to see how it went. Quite pleased with the general idea but not sure where it would go after that - I guess it doesn't matter too much in a freewrite?

Daily Haikus

2009-08-30T18:39:00.002+01:00

1.
A world of knowledge
hidden behind her old eyes.
Yet she says nothing.

2.
Pass no judgement here,
mind open to a world of
possibilities.

3.
Let love in your heart
and it will shine through your eyes
reflecting your soul.

4.
Old friend, you meet me.
Wagging your tail to greet me:
Noses are not blind

5.
Curled up round and wound
into a ball, he lies there
absorbing the sun.

Under Exam Conditions

2009-08-17T11:49:00.003+01:00

Ninety Minutes Silence

Face rumpled, hair tousled,
frowning concentration.
Pencil stuck in hair scratching.
Lips murmuring...
chasing the words.
Pen scratches,
fingers counting,
pencil tracing
rubber scrubbing
pencil stubbing
Thoughts clicking
lips licking.
Brows drawn in concentration

Shoulders slumped, gazes glazing,
hand rubbing tired eyes.
Words blurring,
mind slowing
finger rubbing lips slowly.
Background rumbles
clock ticking
papers rustle
pencil pauses.
Mouth gaping yawns escaping
soft coughing hand muffling.
Head nodding, knuckle propping.

Nothing to do but sit and stare.
Nothing to do but sit and stir.

Miss-ing...

‘Miss, I haven’t got a pen – the library’s shut – they had no change Miss.

I couldn’t find my bag – I don’t have a ruler Miss.
Will I be in trouble Miss? Will I be sent home Miss?

Do I have to do this exam Miss?’

These are based on a series of free-write exercises I did whilst invigilating Y9 exams...ninety minutes is a very long time.

Collateral Damage

2009-08-15T11:14:00.005+01:00

They met in May, in a café, quite accidentally. A spilt coffee cup, a pile of wet napkins, an ‘excuse me’. They married in June; coincidentally that was not her name. Time passed slowly, he learnt to love and hate her, equally. By July, they had died of despair: boredom and old age, that killer combination, not a tragedy.

This is based upon an exercise from The Writer's Block that Russell recommended. The idea is to write a complete story in just 59 words...it's harder than it sounds!