Writing Exercises
Most of this will stem from Mels exercises on the writing board that
she sets for us. I find it interesting to read and I hope you do
too. In time when I do my Open University course I may well add exercises
from there on here too. There will be some notes that I write above
which is how I get my ideas going, feel free to read them or just ignore
them.
Cider Bottle!
The object is a bottle! Here are the thoughts that came to mind
:
Plastic, warmish to the touch, flexible, made a popping sound when
you pressed it in! Ridges at the bottom of the bottle, a cap, feel
the paper moving on it and finally slippery.
Now in regards to associations with bottle here goes :
Drinking, liquid, cider, in a torpor! The next day hangover.
Production line, milk, supermarkets, pleasure, something to put my car
wash in! Getting hit on the head with one, finally broken glass.
I hope this is ok, probably sounds a bit crazy but that is what comes to
my mind!
Now a day in the life and this is all done as I type it out on this
message board, live as it were!
********************************************************************************************************************
Here I sit, taken away from my peaceful home in the drinks aisle at
Tesco. I thought I was going to have a nice rest in the aisle but
then at the last I saw it coming. A shambling figure with a heavy
gait made it's way towards my section! How I hoped I could avoid it's
clutches, and for a moment I thought I was safe as he fondled my neighbour.
However then he popped her back on the shelf and I was borne aloft.
Upside down I went as this buffoon looked for the date of my expiry, not
having the wit to realise it was upon my neck. Obtuse fool.
Then unceremoniously I was dumped inside along with frozen vegetables,
milk, chicken kievs, onions and for goodness sake a bottle of lemonade.
What a wimp. I and my poor contents resigned ourselves to the fate
that awaited us as we made our way to the checkout. I felt my fizzy
innards bubble incessantly with fear and I could not mollify their worries.
Crash and bang as he plumped the contents down on the conveyor belt.
Now again the intelligence of the man was quite astonishing. He
placed me directly upright with no support around me and it was of no
surprise when I toppled onto the prawns, they rather reminded me of the
person that put me here. I could hear the lemonade groan too as he
fell over. Suddenly a hideous thought assailed my mind, surely he
isn't going to mix us together?
After he whizzed us through the checkout..not forgetting yet another
tumble and roll down the belt, we finally made our way from the shop.
I and my companions now tasted fresh air as we were tossed from side to
side by the excited sot. All was quiet and we held our bubbles as
the journey continued. A clinking sound came and a portal was opened
to this inhabitants world.
Then a most revolting, unpleasant, disgusing, noisome, etc,etc experience
occured. This creature did not have the decorum to prepare a glass,
oh no. My cap was ripped off and my neck was opening was drawn to
a great orifice of gluttony. A swig and swallow came and my poor
innards where emptied into the festering chasm of his stomach. After
an age he finally released me, a quarter of my being vanquished!
I felt light headed, but it was only a brief respite a bearlike belch echoed
across his quarters.
However at least this time he proferred a glass to my neck. I
was surprised when he stopped halfway through the motion though. Then
horror took me as he opened the lemonade he was to commit the ultimate sin.
My poor relations screamed with fizz as the lemonade poured forth upon
them, poor souls. Cider and lemonade, what a tosser. I could
bear it no more and tears of condensation rippled across my soon to
be emptied vessel.
I passed into a cold stupor as I was slowly stripped from the inside,
all feelings of pop now gone. A mere dimple at the bottom of my once
full reservoir. Then I was naked and he tore the paper of me that
bore my name, Gaymers old English. With my life over he hurled me into
a black bag of stench and I remembered no more.
Today was given an exercise to briefly continue
on from the opening paragraph of a story. The paragraph was:
The house looked evil! Everyone who went near it said the same! The
shadows both outside and inside, were as thick as coal. Lightning forked
overhead like daggers piercing the night sky...
In our continuation we had to include descriptions of the garden, windows,
front door, inside, creatures, and sounds. Everyone seemed to come up
with dramatically different ideas so I'd like to know how uses of this
board would go about it.
********************************************************************************************************************Thoughts
that come to mind are, foreboding, dark, thunder, lightning lighting everything
up, garden left derelict, big gothic windows with cobwebs, huge door,
rats, mice, ghosts, feeling nervous and very jumpy. Hangmans hill - legend
of hanging
*******************************************************************************************************************Slowly
I advanced to the house on top of the hill. Solitary and proud it
seemed to me. I approached the garden gate and I was struck by the
neglect. Weeds were the prominent plants and the flowers that could
be seen were drowned by the prevelant mass of untidiness. The gloom
in the garden and rustling sounds from the undergrowth prevented me from
tarrying long there.
I hastened my walk and strode down the pathway which was hazardous
due to several loose paving stones. I looked at the house now at
closer quarters and I was drawn to the huge windows which were large and
arched. They were of a dark colour and seemed to have been unwashed for
a long while. I could not but help see several cobwebs enjoying a
happy symbiosis with the large frames.
I approached the door and an unnatural fear took hold of me.
The door was vast and must have been ten feet tall and had four panels
upon it. Nervously I fumbled in my pocket and found the set of keys
left to me by the previous owner. I struggled to find the keyhole
but at last I found the gap and the door swung open with a heavy groan.
Lightning struck and a spectral white light illuminated the interior.
An old fireplace was upon the wall ahead of me along with two trophies
of a deer and a wild boar. An oriental rug stretched from the fireplace
and filled up most of the floor. Dark floorboards stretched forth
from under the rug and stretched to a wall decorated with red and gold
wallpaper. Also what struck me was a heavy musty smell of disuse
and decay. Then the thunder struck with a howling crash and my already
frayed nerves were levelled by the blast.
I looked avidly for a lightswitch and to my relief I spotted one on
my leftside. I pressed the switch and light came reluctantly to this
shadowy world. Colour now came to the interior but it did not ease
my apprehension, if anything the fear increased. I told myself to
be bold and stop being irrational but a scuttling sound from behind the
reception door stopped me moving.
I waited for what seemed an age and the scuttling came again.
My eyes scanned the room for a weapon of sorts and were drawn to a brass
poker by the fire. Swiftly I made my way to the door, poker in hand
and wrenched it open. I almost screamed aloud as a rat boldly strutted
past me in defiance. I stayed my hand, fear stopping me from striking
out at the creature before it darted back out into the hallway from where
it had came.
I now knew why this house was so cheap and did not relish the fact
that it was supposed to be haunted. The legend was of old Ned the
last man hanged upon the hill for robbery. The sound of a heavy thud
above me did not ease my worries.....
The Chairman
Eyes fixed down, the appointed hour is to be met. I quell my
fears and resolve myself to meet my reward with due confidence.
The weak finally caught me after many a long year in hopeless ambitions.
I raise my eyeline to my jailer and smile inwardly at his uneasiness at
my baleful stare. How they quailed in the court as my crimes were
read forth and every unmentionable sin was laid bare to the twelve just
citizens honoured to be enriched by my lifes adventures.
I am ushered forward, eager now to be the star of the show. A
hand on my shoulder is to guide me forward though I need no guide.
I thank him for his concern and the response is a sneer followed by disgusted
silence. Truly I am infamous and this deviant is now set for the grand
play.
I glare ahead and I see the sterile corridor and the portentous blue
door that signals my end. Renewed, I press ahead at a faster pace,
screams and fury clamour at my essence from the inmates held within.
I am a soul who is despised and feared by all.
The door opens with a hellish grate, resonating on the chamber within
and then I set eyes upon my throne. Old, so ancient with restraints
and a skull cap as my crown. I picture myself as an emperor sitting
on elegant cushions and a mighty sceptre to rule my realm. The illusion
is soon disturbed as some vague insect reads out my fate.
I yawn aloud and let forth a laugh so fell and loud that many within
tremble and falter. My title as the flayer demon (ordained to me
by the press no less) has some effect still. Roughly I am pushed
into my new friend and secured fast though they need no restraints now.
Finally they ask me if I have any last words before my banishment.
I set forth a sentence that will abase and humiliate their false convictions.
"Forgive them father, for they know not what they do. Amen"
Gasps and screams emanate from some of the females within at this heinous
blasphemy. The insect speaks once more upon my ears.
"May God have mercy on your soul."
I feel the surge, pain, much agony tears at me. Oh how I enjoy
and hate this new euphoria. My skin blackens but I am so alive,
so alive and feel the heat rising within me. The surge continues
and I feel myself floating above looking at the extravaganza. My
body is roasted, spent and my spirit is released and I hear now the screams
so clear, a harmonious symphony as they run from the beast. Finally
I plummet, the peels of my master beckoning me come forth, I am free.
(Not one of my best efforts, too many metaphors, rhetoric and cliches..must
do better)
Exercise : Pen
Things that come to my mind are long cylindrical shape, a removable
cap with a strip protruding from it, ridges at the bottom of the pen, cone
shaped where the nib is, the nib is pointed without being too sharp, warm
to the touch and hard.
********************************************************************************************************************Here
I sit quietly most of the day in mellow hibernation. I am quite a
sleepy character due to the amount of ink that I use up when I am called
upon. I rest with my friends, some colourful pencils, the cheerful
rubber, the rather talkative phone and the rather messy tome that is the
address book. I see the days paper that my owner is reading and I begin
to stir, hopefully I'll be called into action soon.
My cap which I like to think of as a rather large hat gets ready to
be pulled off and my nib throbs with anticipation. Then I'm lifted
and my cap comes off and is set on the small chair, I do hope he remembers
to put it back on me when he's done. I find myself snuggled comfortably
between his fingers as I see our new joint challenge, the daily crossword.
He pauses for a while he looks at the clues and then we get on with the action.
My ink bleeds as no.1 across goes in the answer the being noisy.
Soon clues get filled in left, right, centre, above and down and I find
myself getting dizzy with all this activity. We are almost at the end
and then we stop. I know this feeling, it is the dreaded POSER!
Suddenly there is a gnawing at the end of my cylinder as my owners thoughts
burn merrily away. I don't mind being gnawed upon, it makes me feel
kind of cosy and one of the family. Anyway this body is quite tough
you know. After quite a while I begin to feel sleepy as my ink begins
to clot and cool down.
Finally my friend gives up and I find myself reunited with my cap and
we get ready to sleep again. I just begin to doze away when my cap
is ripped off again. Has the answer been found? I slip restlessly
in his grip but then we stop again, his thought is wrong and I am rested
once more.
"Hello, Hello don't forget my cap."
It's too late he is off and I must stay here now until tomorrows paper
now I guess. My poor nib is blinded by all the light and we struggle
to nod off. Until tomorrow zzzzzzzzz............just what is 7 down
Interpret mistakenly _i_c_n_t_u_?
Mr K braves the backstreets of Deptford!
"See you Monday mate".
The door closed behind me, then I pondered the long journey before me.
The charm and pleasure of travailing the bright streets of Deptford.
I made my way towards the lift at the end of the balcony and I noticed
for the first time several appendages off the balcony. White and
blue carrierbags tied flimsily to the balcony in the hopes off trapping
some poor pigeon in the hope of Deptford's finest Pigeon Pie. I have
heard that this is a delicacy well worth seeking out, funny I had always
thought of pigeons of no more than flying rats.
I got to the end of the balcony and thought better than to summon the
lift with its welcoming scent of dried urine mixed with stale cannabis and
decided to brave the stairs. The power cuts were regular and I did
not welcome the thought of being stranded in a lift in Deptford at one o'clock
am. The red graffiti signalling some posses handiwork showed me the
way to the stairs and I made my descent. After I passed the noisome
smell of piss and pot which was not confined to the lift I at last made my
way to the fresh air. Now I wished the cabbie would come to the wilds
of Deptford, but this area was off limits at one am, so there was nothing
for it but my two legs and dutch courage.
I made my way out of Hurleston House and closed the broken door and I
heard a buzz saw making it way towards me over this lunar landscape of craters
in the so called road. I looked up and saw the cause of the commotion,
several youths on bikes. Why do they not get a bike that can go faster
than sixty mph? All effort and no movement I thought, one of them
even attempted a wheelie of two inches, what excitement I mused.
I made my way eastwards up Grove Street and it wasn't long before I encountered
skaghead Ivy.
"Ere mate, give us a tenner would you and I'll give you a good time"!
I shook my head and declined, many years ago she was supposed to have
been the epitome of Aphrodite but now no more than a dried of husk of heroin
and crack. Her pulchritude long ravaged by her hunger of darker pleasures.
I bade her farewell and continued westwards.
I looked to the north of Evelyn's once great estate and saw a pyre reaching
to the night's sky. The acrid smell of burnt rubber told me that
another group of youths had lit a totem pole of flat tyres, a portent
of the joys of sunny South London. Then I saw the arsonists a group
of several young men no older than eighteen, making their way towards me
in a false show of bravado. I beheld their leader and withstood his
baleful stare of malevolence and his mixed gang laughed as they headed off
in the other direction, no doubt to light yet more lighthouse for the unwary.
Ever weststward I went and I espied two itinerant drunks who were happy
to babble about the joys of Tennants Super, not even noticing me as I headed
ever onwards to the sanctuary of Mungo Towers. Soon I would be on the north
bridge to Evelyn Street flanked by two or three long empty council towers.
It was then that it struck me, the darkness that purveyed the depths of
the back streets of Deptford. I looked above to the source of sight
and then noticed that some of the bulbs were missing. Clearly nothing
was safe here not even the ubiquitous light bulb, perhaps there was some
far flung black-market that dealt with dull illumination?
I made my way over the bridge which spanned no water but derelict houses.
I then perceived a baying sound, not Conan Doyles' baskerville hounds but
the Dobermans of Deptford. Several of these devil dogs looked at
me with undisguised contempt and I hastened ever onwards to the safety
of Surrey Quays. How I wished Gary would come along with his silver
mondeo and rescue me from such evils!
I clambered over the discarded syringes and used tesco bags and saw sanctuary
just past Sainsbury's. Oh soon I would be in my home with Jane and
these perils would be consigned as a bad memory. At last I was in
Evelyn Street heading ever west to the joys of Surrey Quays. Then
my salvation came at the bus stop, a 188 bus which went past Southwark Park
Road. I lurched at top speed towards the stop and at last I
was on my way home to the safety of deepest crime free Bermondsey and the
sophistication of Mungo Towers!
The dashing blade
Most of my time I spend in quietude with my friends waiting for the call
to action. The rack holds us still with heavy magnetism, suspending
us in thoughtful reveries of gutting and devouring some poor fowl or hen.
For now it is a case of endless boredom, I like my peers say very little.
Silent and brooding in menace but very very still.
At my heart I have no soul, cold and heartless am I. Only
when I am doing what I wish do I gain any satisfaction. My essence
tells me that soon I will be called to action, the rotisserie hums and I
feel the popping of white flesh calling to me. Juices ease down the
bird to the tray sucking out the fat and the ripe corpse will be all mine
to feast upon. The bell chimes, the cooking is over and the victim
roasted now awaits my cares.
Time passes and the bird has cooled off enough. I feel a welcome
release from my rack and am set forth on the honing stone. At last
I am plunged into the chicken and my hunger is to be cured. The skin
comes away with ease and I relish it's fatty taste running down the bredth
of my blade. My victim now stripped lays naked before me and now I
set earnestly to work. Deep, deep I gouge away to slice thin slivers
for the Sunday meal.
I am a trained killer and this bird is soon duly processed and I am satisfied
at last. My body and handle covered with sweat and grease trickling
down as rivulets of pleasure. Alas it does not last, I am plunged
deep into the purifying waters of cleaning. The sponge clears off my
toils and I am placed in the knife holder upon the washing board.
The drying then comes as I am immersed in the deep folds of a towel.
No one would believe that I would be capable of such savagery as home calls
again. Now I must wait this brooding assassin eager for another feast.
Seven days and then I shall slay again.
Well earned rest
The hour was late in the day and it was time for the appointment.
He checked his watch half of six and he was late. Quickly he ran to
the door before going into the cool air outside. With great agitation
he checked around his neck for his chain and then remembered. I don't
have it anymore, its gone, gone for good. Hastily he ran down the road,
eager to see this new Wetherspoons pub that had just opened.
The three occupants chatted happily amongst themselves within the eaves
of this inn. They knew the fourth of their company would be late.
"Typical of him isn't Sam? Always late and keeping us waiting especially
after all you've done for him."
Sam was not best pleased with this accusation and had to put the other
fellow in his place.
"Well, unlike you he has a lot on his mind of late. That trial wasn't
easy at all you now, damn well nearly killed us both."
After this they all looked to the door and the final occupant had arrived.
'Over here Mr Frodo." Yelled an excited Sam whilst Merry and Pippin
waved cheerily at the tardy hobbit.
Frodo quickly took their orders and placed them at the bar. Shortly
he was back and they all conversed about the mundane days of Shire life,
so peaceful after the ordeal with that silly ring. Then they all remembered
there was still another guest to come.
The door to the pub slowly opened and the fifth guest at last came to
the fray.
"Hello hobbitses, it's me Smeagol"!
The hobbits beckoned him over and he slinked over beside them.
"Oi Gollum how come you're so late and how did you survive that Mount
Doom"?
"Nasty fat hobbit always asking stupid questions. Gollum doesn't
exist anymore he died with the ring, just nice Smeagol now. I hid under
the crater when you thought I dived into nasty hot rocks and then sneaked
away."
Sam glared suspiciously at the gnarled hobbit before asking what he wanted.
"What's it drinks precious, is it tasty? We wants some, we very
thirsty after long journey."
Sam went to the bar and got Smeagol a pint of John Smiths.
"Here you are Smeagol, a pint of bitter for you I hope you like it."
Gollum sneered and added.
"Must be better than orc blood, just try a drop...urrgh"
Gollum spat out the beer much to the disgust of the patrons and the embarrassed
hobbits.
"Aaargh, silly hobbites tries to poison us with smelly drink"!
Gollum screamed and shrieked until the hobbits got him a glass of water
and a raw fish on a plate. Eventually he quietened and they all talked
long into the night about their happy adventures. It was then a traveller
walked into the room, it was Saruman who came back to life as a travelling
salesman!
"Would any of you care for a replica ring of Saurons? All I ask
is for fifty pence and a packet of Benson and Hedges. Will any of
you humour an old man?"
Smeagol and Frodo hurriedly ran to the cigarette machine and rushed back
to Saruman armed for their purchase. Saruman thanked them for their
kindness and handed over two rings to the excited buyers. Sam, Merry
and Pippin looked to the heavens and cursed Saruman.
In unison both Frodo and Smeagol cried:
"Our precious it's back, what joy"!
Like old brothers who had not seen each other in an age they embraced.
They fondled their new powerless trinket before they headed out into the
air and lived happily to the end of their days!
Third Person Perspective
God looked down on his happy idyll, Eve and Adam happily at play enjoying
the garden he had created. Adam pleased him greatly, the creation
made in his own image; he had to keep an eye on Eve though, something was
troubling him and he wasn't sure what. Then off course there was Lenny
the Snake, always up to some form of mischief or other.
"Lenny, I'll not have you corrupting my latest creations."
Lenny emerged out from the tall grass beneath the many trees and was most
put out by this insinuation. He glared haughtily skywards towards
God before he hissed:
"Oh that's it put the blame on me, I haven't even met your creations yet.
What can I possibly do to them?"
God knew that Lenny wouldn't be too pleased sharing the garden with new
neighbours. He intoned a mighty voice at Lenny and pointed towards the
forbidden fruit nestling in the orchard.
"Know ye well snake that the way to be banished from Eden is to eat the
forbidden fruit. I know that thou would tell those two it would be safe
to eat my golden apple. Best you don't."
Lenny was about to speak, but God silenced him before he returned to his
labours.
Time had passed, not quite sure how long when God was roused and most displeased.
The fruit had been taken from the tree and been eaten by Adam and Eve!
They had no idea that the fruit had been ordained for a holy purpose and
their greed had ruined this. Even more, they knew the punishment would
be banishment. Ever had God been benevolent and wise, but now he would
show them his wrath.
His words to the pair were terrible and his heart ached as they were led
to banishment. He was about to return to his labours when he espied
a familiar shape on the edge of the orchard.
"SNAKE, what have you been doing down here? I hope you've no part
in this mischief."
Lenny looked up sheepishly; he knew God would see through his lies so he
had to think fast on his belly.
"Listen God, I got talking to those two and you know we got talking about
forbidden fruit and orchards and before I knew it Adam and Eve were scoffing
the apple.."
Lenny braced himself for God's fury. Sure enough God let him know
his displeasure.
"You're forked tongue has tarnished Eden. How could you do this to
my two perfect creations?"
Lenny tried to interrupt but failed.
"Lenny, from this day hence I forbid you to talk to people. You can
have the run of this garden for now, but woe betide you if I ever see you
near any more of my creations."
Lenny blanched at the all to real threat, he didn't fancy being a pair
of shoes for God and pledged obedience.
"OK, OK I get the picture, there's no need to shout."
God's impatience was almost spent ; Lenny quickly added.
"Listen boss, I know you got a lot to do so I'm out here. I promise
no more tricks, byeeeee.."
Lenny slithered away and God watched him disappear and from thence forth
was always wary of the slippery snake.
First person perspective
"Right, here she comes the scatty woman. Time for me to sell that
apple."
I lash out my tongue as she come towards me, I guess it's time for an introduction.
"Hail young maiden: would you do the pleasure of giving me your name?"
I sense her unease at the sight of a talking snake! I reassure her
as best I can.
"My name is Lenny, and I've never seen your kind before. I was wondering
if you would be so kind to allow me to show you around."
"My name is Eve. I have never seen something like you before; what
are you?"
I have in her my spell now, this going to be so easy.
"I am what is known as a snake. I enjoy the quiet life and I do love
a live mouse to feast upon. When I can't get a mouse or anything tasty
I enjoy an apple. They're so nice and succulent and just melt in my
tummy. mmmm you must try one you know."
I can sense a bit of temptation here. She looks at me enquiringly,
but there are swaying nerves at work.
"I've heard of an apple and I've seen one on the forbidden tree.
God spoke to me and Adam and said we can have anything we want, but NEVER
the apple."
God, he always has to stick his nose in, well, now I shall stick my tongue
out!
"Oh, don't worry about my mate God. He'll be fine about a little
chew on an apple. Would I lie to you Eve?"
"I don't know Lenny, I've heard God can get pretty mean when he's upset."
This is girl is so gullible, if I don't get her eating an apple I'll shed
my skin.
"Listen come with me to the tree, bring your mate Adam along and have a
good look at this apple. God won't even notice it's gone. What
do you say?"
I agree to meet her at the tree in a few moments. I sidle on down
there and wait for the worried couple while I concoct my best words.
I need to sell this to them in my best voice. Aaah, here they come now.
"Greetings to you both, I presume you are Adam?"
Adam looks a bit scrawny for a man. I can't believe this is God's
image. I can tell he is little bit sceptical of me.
"Hullo, I'm Adam. Listen we're not allowed to eat no apples."
Ok, time now for the big sell.
"Adam, Adam, listen to me. As I told Eve, me and God go way back;
long before you and Eve were even in his thoughts. Now I'll tell you
what I told Eve, God won't mind you taking a little nip of that tiny golden
apple over there. The taste is straight from this heaven and you can't
afford to miss it. It'll crumble in your mouth and you'll be begging
for more. One bite, what harm can it do?"
I notice his guard is slipping. He licks his lips before Eve chirps
in, my charms on her earlier reaping fruit now.
"Come on Adam, Lenny wouldn't lie to us. Let's take a bite, c'mon."
Then he does it! He puts his hand on the golden apple and he pulls
it down. He looks at it with great lust as does his partner.
"Come on guys ; what are you waiting for?"
I see the girl take the apple from Adam and she bites, and how? Virtually
half the apple gone in one big chomp. Then Adam takes it and devours
the rest.
"You fools, you've done it now." I shriek at them. Then HE turns
up.
"ADAM, EVE, THOU HAST DESECRATED THY REALM WITH THINE ACTIONS. THOU
ART CAST OUT OF HEAVEN AND YOU LEAVE NOW."
The fools try to argue with God but they're soon sent on their way.
I didn't fancy sharing Eden with those witless fools. I especially
don't want to share with any of my valuable time with any progeny that they
might come up with. That's if they ever work out how to. OK,
now where is that mouse?
William's fury at verdict.
By Gary Hewitt
Historical figures William and Harold attended a fierce cross-examination
in Pevensey court today. It was claimed by the prosecution that Harold
had promised to stand aside from claiming the crown of England. The
defence claimed this claim was made under extreme duress. The dispute
reared its head in early 1066 and threatens to be an extremely bitter contest.
Other claimants include Harolds brother and an unknown Hungarian.
Harold claimed that Edward the Confessor gave his blessing to his accession.
William could not confine his rage and threatened Harold that if he reneged
on his pledge he would take matters into his own hands. The judge
warned William that if he did not restrain his temperament he would be held
in contempt of court. The jury were unable to come to a verdict and
the judge ruled that it was Harold who would inherit the throne of England.
After today's proceedings William made a terse statement saying he would
retreat to Normandy as he had more than an eyeful of Harold. He said
Harolds claim to the throne was fraudulent and would appeal. He promised
that he would return and would bring a team of experts to assist in his
fresh claim.
(Winner challenge of the month for May)
Sincere soul searching sussurus sylvan song sung
sweetly by sad solemn successful Satyr, surrenders sanity so such servitude
shall surely succumb the savage seeking soul; swearing severance,sweetness,
sleepiness, sobriety and sin succintly.
Soccer story sensation, successful Southampton striker
sinks solid Stoke; sudden strikes send Southampton skywards into solar systems
Eclipse
Inside it was close, close enough for the sweat to keep running through the
overworked pores. The heat came from a giant throbbing noise from the
end of the corridor lit by glowing beads of amber light. The end of
the corridor was covered with fine mucous gauze, which parted whenever a
lifeform approached. Past the opening was the engine room; the screen
inside was down allowing two creatures to gaze at the solar field beyond.
"How much longer we going to stay here, we really should get on now."
Colonel Gorne was getting aggravated. The journey to the barren dustworld
was long and the reward was a few scraps of quartz.
"We've only just arrived, in a few moments we will actually be able to see
an eclipse when Betelgeuse is swallowed by the fourth moon. This only
happens every thousand quhones."
The colonel shook his head in impatience. He was supposed to be preparing
for a battle and yet his science officer insisted on waiting for this solar
show.
"Confound your eclipse Mawne, I need to equip my tallogarne missiles with
querillium warheads. I can't afford to wait while you linger for this
phantom eclipse."
Mawne glanced to his right and sighed. The colonel followed his gaze
and his impatience was quelled by the dancing spectre of an iridium flash
from the meeting of star and moon.
The fourth moon was swallowing Betelgeuse. A corona stung his eyes
with a brilliant flash of fire. The rainbow that was visible came directly
as a result of this flare. Strobing lights of orange, violet, crimson,
gold and azure swung swiftly past them. Mawne's temper quieted as the
spectacle engulfed them with its magnificence. After the rainbow the
giant sun was conquered, darkness fell and Mawne was blinded for the second
time.
"Magnificent is it not Colonel. Are we not truly blessed to see such
a sight?"
"Yes, well it's over now. Now come on get back on that ship, we've
still got our mission and that doesn't include watching Belegeuse."
Mawne's two mouths smiled. He'd seen his eclipse and finally they set
course for Alpha 9.
19/05/04 course exercise
Mel's exercise part 1
Three boys, three girls. He could spy them from his hideaway; a veiled
door allowing him to gaze in. They couldn't see him. He heard
the victims names, their banal witterings waltzing to his ears. Rachel,
Monica, Ross, Chandler Joey and Phoebe. On his table were scatterings
of prawns, crisps, half empty glasses of whisky, playing cards and poker
chips. Amongst the mound of chips he could see items of jewellery that
the girls discarded. He wondered if they would discard more.
Jason silently released his sword. He put on his mask and tied it securely
as he watched the show continue. He laughed inwardly, would they be
so glib about their card game if they knew who he abused on that table.
Ritual sacrifices awaited.
The girl called Rachel shrieked. She had a winning hand and eagerly
collected. The rest groaned, but there was to be no more discarding
of items. Phoebe said she was calling it a day, no more gambling today.
She turned the light on, shadows banished once the orange walls came to life.
Soon he would turn them red. Phoebe returned to Jason's favourite seat.
It was whicker bound with an uncomfortable ridge in the middle of the seat.
It was where he stashed an old keepsake.
Jason took hold of the handle to his closet. He opened the hidden door.
Mel's exercise part 2
The viewing time was hard to make, but with recording sessions in
the afternoon, it had to be early morning or not at all. The window
was a soothing white colour and the light was most welcome as the dull interior
was lit. The light brown walls didn't work, they needed to be painted
white or blue. It might make an ideal studio, he'd discuss it later
with Jordan.
A guitar was propped up against the wall, something out of the sixties and
Peter fancied trying to play a tune or two but thought better of it.
The fireplace would have to go though, he wasn't really into old thirties
heating. The rug was persian, he loved it but fancied the owners would
take it with them.
A blue couch stood to the side, again not really his taste. He looked over
to the right and saw a cheap bookrack. "I bet I get to keep that" he
said aloud. An awful painting stood above the fireplace which he thought
a little odd. Surely that's a bit dangerous he thought. Then
he noted a striped vase with plastic daffodils next to the fireplace.
It had to be redundant.
His mobile rang and Jordan asked him what the place was like. They
agreed that they would come back later on.