This week's prompts
paperback :: bounce :: crushing :: liquor :: root
Darkness
It’s midnight and I’m still markin’ these damn papers for tomorrow. The monotonous whirring of the ceiling fan is the only noise in this stifling hot room. A lone cockroach scuttles across the wooden floor and I pick up a paperback version of Anna Karenina and slam it down hard, crushing its insides into the floorboards. There’s a satisfying crunch and I smile to myself. One fewer in the world, although I doubt whether I’ll make much of a difference as scientists think the only thing that’ll survive a nuclear bomb is bastard cockroaches.
I look at my glass of lemonade, sweating in the heat and wish for something stronger. I’ve never touched a drop of liquor, not since my daddy hit my brother halfway across our yard after one of his three-day benders. Mamma just stood there in her frayed pink apron doing the dishes like nothin’ was happening. That hasn’t stopped me wantin’ it, but not touching liquor is about the only thing my willpower works on. It’s like there’s a barrel of it and it’s all used up on that one thing, that I can’t but help wanting other things more than I should.
An old tennis ball sits on the corner of the table and I squeeze it and throw it at the wall. It bounces, but loses momentum and drops to the floor. I look at the paper in front of me, typed in Arial point twelve. Without even reading it, I know it’s going to be boring. In my class of students there are only one or two bright sparks and this kid Josie is not one of them. I can always pick them out the second they walk through the door. It’s something about the way they dress or a look in their eyes. Last year I taught this guy called Lee. Brilliant kid. Had to give it all up ‘cos of some situation at home.
I switch off the light and crawl into bed fully-clothed and allow the darkness of the night to envelop me before the other darkness takes root.
L. Besley
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CAKE.shortandsweet runs a write-in every week to writers to practise their skills, and get chatting to each other about their work. Everyone is welcome to join in, and the more people you tell, the more everyone will get out of it.
I love the scene setting at the start. I can feel the heat and her frustration. Your story make me want to know more about the narrator’s past and situation – my imagination is running wild :)
ReplyDeleteThanks for your comments Rebecca. I initially struggled with this piece, but left it a couple of hours and then all of a sudden it made sense. Think I'll be coming back to this character! :)
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