Tag Archives: college

Sunday

From college this week. Set a scene at someone’s house just before they come home. 100 words.

The Sport

The creaky, cracked, black, faux leather sofa was where he kept it. Always the left hand side and never the right. Sometimes it was under the heavy seat cushion but today only a handful of grey fluff and a 5 pence piece was to be found. This was placed carefully on the  heavily polished “not-quite-pine” pine coffee table. The polish unable, it seemed, to shift the decades old coffee ring.

My hand reached under the sofa and into hiding place number two. My palm rubbed against the faded red carpet. My finger tips brushed against the cheap newspaper. The sound of a key clanked into the lock and turned.

“We’re back….”

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The living room

One more from the memory class at college. The topic – First Room.

 

The living room was my play room.

The living room was the dining room,

the back room and the front room.

The living room was every room.

 

The living room had a hi-fi.

The hi-fi had sharp corners.

I had a superman doll,

And a head as soft as butter.

 

Around and around I span,

Round and around we flew.

Flying and spinning.

Crying and bleeding.

 

The living room had carpets.

The carpets hit my head.

The living room had carpets

That now had turned bright red.

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Asleep in the hay

College assignment: An eye witness account of something I couldn’t possibly have seen.
I decided to attempt a scripted version of this. Not sure I really got what wanted down on paper, so I might tackle this again some other time. Anyway, here it is. Excuse the formatting, it’s gone a bit shonky.

Fade up from black.

Int- Pub. The sound of pool being played, beers being ordered and fruit machines being fed.

Jeff:

Seriously mate, you a’narf come out with some utter bollocks sometimes. Like that time you tried to tell us you used to be Peppa Middleton’s bum chum?

 Billy:
Pippa.

 Jeff:
What?

Billy:

Her name was Pippa. Is. Her name’s Pippa. And I never said I was her bum chum. I used to go out with her best mate’s cousin and…

 Jeff:

Peppa, Popper, Plipper, Pippa, whatever. The point is, you really do come out with some shit, Bill.

Craig:

Hang on, I think we’re missing the point a bit here. Claiming to be a mate’s mate of the queen’s sister is one thing but to come in here, bold as brass, on a Sunday of all days and say that..

Billy:

…that I was at the birth of Jesus Christ.

Craig:

That you were at the birth of Jesus Christ. Yes. Can you even hear yourself speak, mate? How are we only hearing about this now, by the way? Why not last Wednesday at 5s, or the other month at the Lane? Why now? Why are you choosing today to come forth with this grandiose bullshit? Was you touched in the night by an angel..?

Jeff:

[under his breath so everyone can hear] More likely he was touched by his uncle Dave.

Craig:

…Or are you just bored?

Billy stands staring at Craig, then looks down at his pint glass.

Flashback- Billy is staggering home drunk from The Cross on the Hill, a trail of chips behind him as if Hansel and Gretel had taught him a clever way of remembering how to find his way back to the pub the next day. Suddenly there’s a brilliant bright light in front of him and a loud roar. Billy drops the bag of chips and shields his eyes.

 

We hear a car door open and the sound of Dr and The Medics’ Spirit in the Sky pumping from a car stereo. The light still blinds Billy as the angel stands in front of the headlights casting a fantastic silhouette.

Angel:

[A deep, meaningful voice calls] Be not afraid, Billy. For I mean you no harm.

Billy:

wh…wh…who are you?

Angel:

Billy, Billy…

Billy:

And how do you know my name?

Angel:

Bill, don’t you remember? It’s me! Gabe! Shit, hang on.

Gabe reaches into his pocket and finds his keys. He pushes a button and the music stops and lights go out.

Gabe:

It’s me, Gabe. You are, William Blenheim aren’t you? Fuck it, course you are, I never forget a face.

Billy:

I think I dropped my chips.

Gabe:

Chips? Don’t you worry about that. Listen, have you got time for a quick pint?

Billy:

I.. erm.. We. I mean, the pub kicked me out. They’ve closed.

Gabe is walking Billy back to the pub door. The lights are off. It looks empty. Gabe knocks once. Then Twice. Then again with a flourish. The door opens.

Voice:

Evenin’ Gabe. Evenin’ Bill.

Billy:

Brian? I thought you…

Brian:

In you come, son. Fosters is it, Bill?
Still drinking Archers, Gabe?

Gabe:

Fuck off Brian.

Brian:

Ha! I’ll bring ’em over, fella.

The pub seems lighter than it was before. Cleaner too, but not by much. The floor just seems a little less sticky. We follow behind the pair as they make their way to a table next to the jukebox.

Gabe:

So I’m guessing by the way you’ve been staring at me for the last 3 minutes that you really don’t remember me?

Billy:

I… Well to be honest mate, no.

Gabe:

That’s alright. It has been… a while.

Billy:

Honestly mate, I really think you’ve got the wrong guy.

Gabe:

Look, I sort of knew you would think that. I took the liberty of preparing this, let’s call it a montage.

Billy:

A what?

Gabe:

Give me your hand.

Billy:

You what?

Gabe:

Give me your.. oh just come here.

Close up of Gabe grabbing Billy’s hand.

 

We flash back to a dark night and a long winding road cutting through a desert. Next we see a line of camels walking single file. 4 well dressed men ride atop. A giant shining star lights the way. Next we see lots of old buildings and animals wandering the streets. We see a crowd of people gathered outside of a barn.

POV of someone moving shoulders of people out of the way and pushing through the throng. Inside the barn we see a woman lying, crying, exhausted. We hear a a baby screaming a newborn scream.

We follow Billys eyes as they come to rest upon the infant laying, swaddled in amongst hay.

 

Cut back to Gabe and a shell-shocked Billy.

Gabe:

So I thought that would be easier. Did you get the jist?

Billy? Bill?

We see Billy staring down at his pint. Cut back to present day and Billy staring at his pint.

Craig:

Bill? Billy…?

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When the snow came

I did something new recently. I enrolled on a course. 15 years since my last involvement at college I decided to learn more about what I’m starting to love doing. Writing. I’m sure you’ll hear me bleat on about that in further bloggages, but for now I thought I’d have a quick stab at one of the exercises that we ran out of time to cover.

The brief: Write a few words on the following line “When the snow came“.

I was sat on the edge of the bed when the snow came.
Watching as it fell, slowly, like white rain.
The warmth of my room was hugging me close,
as the roads and the pavements and dripping taps froze.

I sat and I stared when the snow fell.
Watching as it erased all colour from the world.
Replacing the filth and the dirt and the grime,
with a fresh sheet of paper to start a new time.

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