Short (pointless) Stories.
Pets.
After my dog sadly passed away a few months ago I noticed my cat slowly began gaining weight, I presumed to myself that this was because the cat was mourning over the dogs death whom, to be honest I never even saw the cat acknowledge when she was alive. I thought this was cute, that the cat was missing the dog, a rival species, an enemy of the cat that he never even got on with. I began putting this attitude into my everyday life, looking out for people as I passed them on the street and being nice to people that before all this, I never would of bothered with and didn’t even like. This definitely had a huge positive effect on my life, making me a kinder, happier, more generous person. This was until, I discovered the cause of my cat gaining weight was actually due the dog always eating the cats food, maybe this is what killed her.
Toilet.
I just sit here, locked within my prison of these tall dull blue walls; the only thing to keep me company is the sound of the never ending dripping tap. Drip drip drip, although there is only so much of that you can sit through without it driving you insane. I hate it here, waiting in isolation, waiting in this cold confined space; occasionally the silence is broken by the shuffle of feet and muttering voices of people rushing past outside but that is only for a second or two.
Nobody ever wants to spend time in here, why would they? If I had the choice id be straight out of here. The cold walls and bland colours make it an extremely uncomfortable place to spend any amount of time in; alongside the constant overpowering smell of urine, masked by the sickly smell of cleaning products, its horrible.
Then, suddenly, someone barges in, rushes into my prison and slams the doors shut locking it. And just pisses all over me before getting straight back out of here, stopping for a split second to feed his vanity checking out his hair in the mirror; that's all i do here, wait around all day for people to piss all over me and piss off.
Train.
As I positioned myself as far away from the bickering couple as possible I though; the deafening threats coming from her mouth seemed somewhat redundant as the man was quite clearly passed out. The woman, well into for forties but dressed like she was just hitting 14.
I isolated myself from all the other passengers on the train hiding in a seat at the top corner on my own, the racket from all the shouting pissed people surrounding me was thankfully drowned out by the sound of the train leaving the station.
The last train home Is never an enjoyable journey, the dull orange glow from the cheap train carriage lighting gives everything a dirty feel, which isn’t helped by the overpowering smell of vomit and left over takeaway. I tried to look past my own reflection through the window however all I am met with is darkness, darkness broken by the occasional passing street light.
As the train slowed down to allow shouting of the drunk passengers to become more apparent the doors opened to letting the next flood more drunk people stumble onto the train, followed by their powerful stench of perfumes and aftershave ready for their night out in town, I then realised, I was on the wrong train.
Light.
Every now and then in my the light above my bathroom door starts to flicker, however not like you'd expect a light to flicker, it looks almost as if a massive thunderstorm is happening inside it. The light turns off for a split second then with a slight bang my room is filled with a massive surge of light. It doesn't do this constantly maybe just once or twice a day, but never fails to scare me shitless. I have played with the idea that maybe somehow I was controlling these flickers by turning on or using electrical appliances, and spent my days cautiously walking through my flat constantly paranoid and scared that I would somehow induce this 'thunderbolt' in my front room. I have tried telling the maintenance man about this flickering light hoping he would fix it however every time he has been up it he has found no fault with the fixture and walked away, moaning about me 'wasting his time'... (its alright for him he isn’t at risk of being blinded every time he boils the kettle.)
(not finished, needs re-working/wording)
Party.
needs finishing.
Feedback
I was quite nervous when it came to be my turn to read out the stories we had written, what i had wrote was allot different to the stories previous students had wrote before me and i didnt know how everyone would react to them. We had to chose another class member to read out our stories for us, this was so we could also listen back to them being read out loud so we could make notes of any mistakes and errors we heard. I chose Sophie to read out mine, an obvious choice, she is good reader and very confident reading out loud, also with the soft 'upper class' tone within her voice i thought it would work well. The feedback I received wasn’t too bad actually, just a few slight changes to be made to them, I heard a few mistakes with things such as grammar as Sophie read them out which could be changed as well as not trying to give away the location of the place too early ‘show don’t tell’. Other than people probably thinking I was some weirdo because of these strange stories I had thoughts giving an insight to my strange mind and my inner thoughts I thought they sounded quite good.
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