I thought that I would like to share some of my creative writing pieces every now and then. Here’s the first extract. Just a beginning of a flash fiction story. Just a taste, a hint. I don’t want to give it all away at once! Wait until I publish a book, a story collection or something similar to read the full story. Here’s one of the earliest drafts, the second to be precise. Usually, I write the first one in my notepad and then edit it while I type it in. This was workshopped on one of the many Wednesdays.
Malle is about to turn the key in the lock when she hears the noise. Why now? She has been preparing for her exit, anticipating that moment with equal amounts of anxiety and the oncoming, unavoidable hunger. The rattling of the keys and bangles deafens her. The concrete walls can hold up nine-story, even twelve-story buildings but are unable to muffle the coughs, the shouting, the crying children, the barking dogs, alone at home, the TV shows the neighbours are watching. Malle dares to look out of the peephole, stepping ever so quietly towards her own metal door. There she is: the purple hair, the mismatching pink lips, the bulky body swaying on two impossibly thin stick legs, all wrapped up in a yellow coat. Irina. Malle holds her breath when she glances around her. A fortune teller, possibly fake, but what if she could „see“, through Malle’s door, for instance?
Any thoughts on this? How do you feel about sharing your work?
1. Own and live in a house.
Continued our house-living practice. This is the kind of house that we are not afraid of. The larger ones with more doors have been slightly frightening. We used to have dogs in them, too, and they would bark at the wrong times, making us anxious. What if there was someone in the garden? There was no one. Ever. At least this is what I believe. This house is in a small village, but I don’t feel afraid. We live with cats, they might have the ability to calm me. Cats equal home to me.
2. Write AND publish a book.
I didn’t write anything new on that Friday but started listening/reading to Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale. Quite soon, it was haunting me. It seemed so oddly familiar. I had seen the film that was made in 1990. It’s a weird dystopia but I remember liking it. Maybe because of the mysteriousness of it, the sexuality. I have a special relationship with dystopias, I feel being drawn to them. In 2011, I wrote my BA thesis about the dystopias and utopias of Kurt Vonnegut’s short fiction. I have studied this subject. I love its eeriness, its darkness, its oddness, the surprising views of the world it presents.
3. Win a major race.
An attempt at a moderately hard run. 15 km at the aerobic threshold. Did it but not very fast. The landscape was tough too and the weather didn’t help at all. But I did it. The illness continued to haunt me. In the afternoon, we took the bikes to Penllergare Woods again, this time a bit further. And later we cycled to the huge Tesco to buy some food. The drawbacks of living so far away from everything: you might have to cycle back on the highway in total darkness… But we survived.
Photo of the Day
I did say we went to Penllergare, didn’t I?