Monday 1 June 2015

Chapel of rest.

Another piece for my FutureLearn.com creative writing course. This time for peer review.
She sat on the plush red velvet cushioned chair and opened her bag with a very loud click. He would always joke ‘There goes your hip again!’ and she smiled, even though she had heard him say it a million times and would never hear the words out loud ever again. She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed gently at the corner of her eye stroking along the deep grooves of bygone years before pushing the handkerchief into the cuff of her blouse – She was bound to need it later, as the sound of her ‘hip’ was bound to echo in the chapel. She stroked out the creases in her skirt; she was at a complete loss as to what was expected of her. She was wearing a dark blue, square cut suit which her youngest grandson had called her sailor suit, on account of the large golden buttons and silver edging along the collar, cuffs and pockets. Beside her was the man she had spent the last fifty years of her life. He was also dressed in blue. He always refused to wear a grey suit as he said it made him look old. He had still a thick head of grey hair which sat upon his head like a blizzard blown left to right – he looked at rest. She let out a small sigh wondering how she would live without him. As if in response, there was a small apologetic knock at the door. ‘Are you all right, Mam’ ‘Yes, yes, love. Be out in a minute.’ Her family were collected in the room next door. She was very lucky. One daughter and two sons. They tried their best to be supportive, but they couldn’t possibly know how she felt. They were all grown up now, newly married. They loved their father dearly, and one day may suffer the same pain, but they couldn’t know until then. She stood up, ready to face the family once more. ‘Bye, my love. We’ll be together again one day – who knows I may have a new hip by then!’

Sunday 31 May 2015

Biofuel

This was written as a piece for a creative writing course on futurelearn.com
Farmer Brown stood leaning against the weathered wooden gate gazing out at the lush green field and ruminated over the coming season. He shifted the ear of corn from left to right in his mouth and gently nibbled the end, his ruddy cheeks like summer apples. It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in sight; he pulled off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow puffing slightly. The odd cow returned his gaze, but on the whole they appeared to be uninterested in his dilemma. Intensive pig farming didn’t sit well with his conscience, he was rather lucky in that farming had been in his family for four generations, because of this the farm was highly profitable and well maintained – He had some pigs already, but apparently there weren’t enough. The amount of organic material needed far exceeded the amount his meagre pig lot could produce, and modern pork production systems were ethically wrong in his view. If they wanted his help, they would have to do things his way. Cows produced methane, surely they could harness some of that? He had huge herds of cows. He had the land to extend the pig lot too, but it would be on his terms, or not at all. They might not like it, but it was his farm, and they chose this location for a reason – It was quiet and self-sufficient; no prying eyes. This was vitally important. He had never questioned his decision to help them – they had pleaded with him, but without undue pressure – they just wanted to get home. As he gazed at the landscape and though of the peace of mind it afforded him he could appreciate their wish. His mind made up, he straightened up and turned around to look at the work going on in the field behind him. The ship was under cover of a new, and very large barn. He couldn’t quite bring himself to use the term UFO now as it had been present on his land for a number of weeks. The aliens were just putting the finishing touches to shield it from view. He was sure that they would be disappointed to know that they would not be making the journey home in the timeframe they had calculated, but he would help them. They were resourceful – you don’t fly across galaxies without a plan B. Now was the time to put it in place, the B standing for biofuel!