Written for Simon's lesson.
Slow sunlight.
The dawn chorus
Of birds and kettles sing.
While others dream
In riddles
I keep my eyes open,
Listen to the slumber
Of the street;
A peaceful pause,
Sheltered from the storm.
Sunday 12 October 2008
Thursday 9 October 2008
'No Bloody Angel'
This was written in Johanthen's lesson on Wednesday morning. It's been edited and revisied.
‘You’re no bloody angel!’ Jack’s last words rumbled through Carole’s mind along with the sound of the train in the distance. ‘No bloody angel’, she mused to herself and she supposed that he was right. Then again, she thought, Jack didn’t even know half of what was going on, and he’d hate her even more if he knew the full story.
The train appeared on the horizon, so she stood up and carried her three suitcases forward to the platform. Two suitcases full of clothes, one full of money. That suitcase she kept closest to her.
The thought of the money had her smile. The amount was enough for her to live comfortable and quietly in the countryside for years to come, or until she got bored of the countryside and returned to London. She felt a little sorry for Jack, though- he’d be rather upset when he returned home to find the little pink note she’d written for him, and then her and the money gone. ‘No money and no girl’, she thought, ‘Poor Jack.’
In the brief moment before the train crawled to a stop at the platform, she thought that Jack Redgrave hadn’t been all that bad. He was probably the nicest guy she’d stolen money from. She thought he had been charming when he wanted to be. ‘Oh well’, she said, ‘I’ve got my retirement money now’, and carried suitcases to the train. Carole flashed a smile at the fat little porter and he came scuttling over to help her carry her luggage onto the train.
The words ‘You’re no bloody angel!’ returned to her mind as she watched the fat little porter step back onto the platform, having just dragged her suitcases onto the train and put them in the luggage rack for her. Carole stepped into her first class compartment, shut the door and then sat down on the green, cushioned seats. She pulled a packet of cigarettes from her handbag, took out a cigarette and lit it. As she inhaled the smoke she remembered she’d taken the packet of cigarettes out of Jack’s coat pocket before he’d left after their little row. The cigarettes were just something else to add to the list of things she’d taken from him. She guessed that the cigarettes would probably the last thing on his mind to worry about, after all he’d have just enough money left to be able to buy a new packet. She exhaled and imagined the smoke coming from her mouth like it would from a dragon.
‘No bloody angel’, she said, ‘Probably the only time you ever got me right, Jack.’. She smiled at her reflection in the window.
‘You’re no bloody angel!’ Jack’s last words rumbled through Carole’s mind along with the sound of the train in the distance. ‘No bloody angel’, she mused to herself and she supposed that he was right. Then again, she thought, Jack didn’t even know half of what was going on, and he’d hate her even more if he knew the full story.
The train appeared on the horizon, so she stood up and carried her three suitcases forward to the platform. Two suitcases full of clothes, one full of money. That suitcase she kept closest to her.
The thought of the money had her smile. The amount was enough for her to live comfortable and quietly in the countryside for years to come, or until she got bored of the countryside and returned to London. She felt a little sorry for Jack, though- he’d be rather upset when he returned home to find the little pink note she’d written for him, and then her and the money gone. ‘No money and no girl’, she thought, ‘Poor Jack.’
In the brief moment before the train crawled to a stop at the platform, she thought that Jack Redgrave hadn’t been all that bad. He was probably the nicest guy she’d stolen money from. She thought he had been charming when he wanted to be. ‘Oh well’, she said, ‘I’ve got my retirement money now’, and carried suitcases to the train. Carole flashed a smile at the fat little porter and he came scuttling over to help her carry her luggage onto the train.
The words ‘You’re no bloody angel!’ returned to her mind as she watched the fat little porter step back onto the platform, having just dragged her suitcases onto the train and put them in the luggage rack for her. Carole stepped into her first class compartment, shut the door and then sat down on the green, cushioned seats. She pulled a packet of cigarettes from her handbag, took out a cigarette and lit it. As she inhaled the smoke she remembered she’d taken the packet of cigarettes out of Jack’s coat pocket before he’d left after their little row. The cigarettes were just something else to add to the list of things she’d taken from him. She guessed that the cigarettes would probably the last thing on his mind to worry about, after all he’d have just enough money left to be able to buy a new packet. She exhaled and imagined the smoke coming from her mouth like it would from a dragon.
‘No bloody angel’, she said, ‘Probably the only time you ever got me right, Jack.’. She smiled at her reflection in the window.
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