Hello,
friends!
It’s been a
long time. I promised a piece of writing and here it is. I should (*coughs*) be
using this more in the coming months (HINT: pack your bags for a trip to Devon).
It isn’t
going into a university portfolio or entered into a competition because, quite
frankly, it isn't good enough. It’s just a bit of fun. I started it in a
seminar the other day and, with a bit of editing, I have managed to make a presentable
piece out of it. It’s only a short one but I'm happy with it like that.
It’s not
written in my usual tone or style but I wanted to try something different…
Waiting in the Rain
A country
lane. It’s always on a country lane, always dark and always raining. This is
where the stories start. A woman, it’s usually a woman and I don’t know why, is
sitting in her clapped out car. Waiting. Waiting for a midnight rendezvous or
something. Then, from out of the woods, a mad axe man or a mental farmer with a
shot gun comes along and turns her into soup. And she screams. Oh boy does she
scream. Maybe that’s why it’s a woman. Well, I am not a woman. I am a man. And
cannibals don’t like men. At least, not according to ITV.
It’s been
half an hour since I phoned. The lights keep flashing past. Each time I hope
and each time I get let down. I should
go out again but I’ve already ruined the shoes and I don’t want to ruin the
trousers. I’ll just wait, sit here and wait. And ignore the imaginary man who
keeps peeking out of the bushes.
