Hello, been a while. Understatement..

In a bid to write more, finish more, stop procrastinating and get back to blogging; for what it’s worth – I decided to get into the whole ‘Writing Prompt’ exercise thing. It’s meant to flush out the creative in you, hone your craft, help give birth to a more consistent writing habit, &etc. Plus – it’s not half good for those days when you are feeling bereft of your skills, and are avoiding finishing that manuscript

…I’ve done two so far. One a couple of weeks ago, and one today.

The two subject matters are vastly different, the genres I alighted on eons apart, surprisingly. Perhaps not that surprising to those who teach writing. To me, writing the first as a very adult fiction short story, then break neck turning about into Young Person Fiction on the second felt natural. It did make me wonder why I can’t just write in one style/genre/voice/POV and be done with it. Anyway – both couldn’t be more different.

It was massive fun. I just let my mind wander around for a bit. Eyes swivelling, Lips pursed, I wrote the first thing that came to mind.

Like I said. Massive fun.

So here is my first foray into Writing Prompts via the fab Writing School that is Curtis Brown Creative, out of London. I hope they don’t mind me using their ‘Line of Action’. This one they assigned to students on their ‘Starting to Write your Novel’ course.  It was blogged about on their page http://www.curtisbrowncreative.co.uk/category/from-our-students/. Three of their students offerings are shared in the blog and are brilliant. I read them and thought I’d give it a go. I’m enrolling on their September Online Course so thought I’d have a little practice and see where it took me. Hope the ‘Line of Action isn’t copyrighted by CBC! The link to the blog is: http://www.curtisbrowncreative.co.uk/new-writing-from-online-creative-writing-course/  Have a look – the stories are great!

So – here is my take on: ‘‘A woman is driving along a lonely country road at night. Suddenly she brakes hard, quickly turns her car around and drives back the way she came’ 

WOMAN’S BEST FRIEND

TR.

“The dog keeps calling.”

“I know.”

“What you going to do about it? You going to go back?”

“No! Rufus. I’m going to this meeting. You go back.”

“I can’t.” he snapped.

Implacable, selfish bastard. Annie screamed silently.

“For God’s sake, Rufe, and why’s that?”

“You know why.”

“Remind me .. “

“I’m at work”

“And so am I..”

Oh! for an old fashioned phone to slam into its stressed plastic cradle. Instead she stabbed a finger at the off button on her dashboard, broke a nail and swore like a fishwife.

This was an average day in the Rivers household. Their Basset Hound used as bait, as ransom. Their poor dog being pulled to snapping point between them like Stretch Armstrong. Heart breaking. He was just lonely. He missed his Humans. They were always out.

__________

Three weeks earlier, Rufus had ordered one of those new-fangled Doggie Phones online. With video screen, sound and a clever little app. They could now call their fury family member at home and check to see if he was ok. The cleverer amongst the canine clan even learned to call their owners. Seemed like a fun idea. Plus, the dog chewed stuff. So Rufus’s purchase was not solely for cuteness factor.

Dave the Dogle took some training. But a short week and a half later he was spending most of the day nosing the call button, his daft face filling the screen of Rufus and Annie’s Doggie Phone App. At first Rufus thought it was adorable. He laughed more, and the pair seemed to get closer. Even spending a wine sodden evening breaking the ‘no sex anymore’ habit, which had been ripping them apart fibre of their soul by fibre.

The happy soon blew itself out. The excited winds of change becoming once again the halitosis death gasp that was their marriage.

__________

Annie spent the evening sofa bound, plotted up with a goldfish bowl of wine and the reassuring warmth of Dave sitting where Rufus used to be in happier times. “Dog replaces Human.” Annie said to the dozing Dave, holding his face between her hands. “Where’s your dad, boy?”.

Working late. Something like that. She’d stopped caring too much if she were honest.

“See you, Dave? You love me don’t you? You’re a woman’s  best friend, aren’t you, dogle.” He huffed and placed his head on her knee looking up into her face. Eyes crossed with the strain, eye brows wiggling.

The last three months had been like this. Sadly dogs, like kids, do not a waned relationship fix.

__________

The next night, radio blaring and dressed to impress, Annie was cruising towards a fun filled gathering with her best mates, in Windsor. A long planned night out. She’d not been happier in yonks. Pulling her best base face as ‘Break For Love’ pumped out of the speakers, she grinned at her reflection in the rear mirror. It winked back.

After food and a bar crawl, she was staying over. A big pile in of besties. Prosecco fuelled girl time. Then sausage butties with brown sauce and hangovers. Maybe a mimosa or two to level the blood sugar. Freedom, her heart shouted.

___________

Winter had made 7.30pm an almost Vanta-Black – the worlds darkest substance. No street lights here, and no moon either. Her headlights barely sweeping hedge. Hardly under-lighting tree. All was windy road peace apart from the dance hits filling the car space.

She hit traffic. Making hers the last car in a long line. Ants with glowing red bums crawling as far as she could see. Nothing going in the other direction. Just darkness behind. Typical she thought – But nowt will damp her giddy tonight.

‘Sisters are doing it for themselves’ by the Eurythmics came on. At the top of her lungs Annie sang the hook. Her head dancing in funky nods. She tapped the steering wheel pretending to be a brilliant drummer. Splitting her cheeks with her smile.

The traffic jam crept on. Annie was now caterwauling along to Sinead O’Conner’s ‘Nothing Compares to you’.

The phone started barking over the car speakers, making her jump.

“Not now Dave!”

Fumbling with the phone in its cradle on the dashboard she hit the Doggie Phone App. Dave’s nose was pressed up against the screen.

“Hello bogle. What’s up?” she giggled at his funny face, “Where’s daddy? Go find daddy. Mummy’s off out, darling. Go find daddy’. 
Dave’s watery eye filled the screen. He whined.

“Go find daddy, Dave. Go on.”, Annie said, daftly not wanting to put the phone down as he clearly missed her, which was lovely. Smiling she repeated, “Go on Boy. Go get Daddy”.

Dave whined and looked behind him. Then whining again pointedly looking into the camera. There was something in that whine that made her veins ice up.

“Dave?” she said, panic snatched at her chest, “Go get daddy!”

Oh god! Oh god! Rufus is dead – her wild imagination jumping from naught to brown trousers in two and sixpence, as her old Pop used to say.

Dave gave one more mournful stare into the lens and moved away from the screen.

In the background, the darkened living room wavered into focus. She squinted at the pixels as they sorted themselves out.

She slammed on her breaks with a scream. Howling, Annie skidded through a u-turn, clutch squealing, and screeched back into the darkness. The way she came.

The phone knocked to the floor, abandoned, stuttered on a jittery image ..

.. A table lamp illuminating a pair of lithe ladies legs spread ceilingward topped with un-naturally spiky heels. In between them .. her husband’s naked bum cheeks thrusting like the clappers.

Till Later My Lovelies.

❤