Preface

ooh err shall we? 12:14 AM | 0 Comments

In progress - Enter the dragon

She had to get rid of the smell, that was how it began, or so it seemed to her. Amelia was more than a little sensitive and it was often commented on, what was not commented on so often, because it could not be seen ,was the amount of extra process that was going on whilst she was managing this sensitivity. If people had realised that when she was saying “Oh, I really do need a grapefruit scented cleaning product, this pine one will not do” her mind was filled with the image of her knees rubbed red raw as her mother scrubbed and scrubbed with scouring powder to make them shine again, then perhaps they would have seen the choosing of cleaning products for the act of bravery it often felt to Amelia. If at the moment Amelia declared she absolutely positively would not be in the same room as a piece of tripe, never mind enter a butchers which was selling it (she had on occasion contemplated turning vegetarian to avoid this one) people had realise there was a sea of crawling maggots in Amelia's mind and she had to clear them ALL up because she had upset the bucket, well then they might be a bit more forgiving. Amelia was thirty and had made a decision that she had lived with these memories for long enough. She knew the memories could never be less than a part of herself, but she had a passionate belief things could be better. At heart she was one of the people that changes the world, but only as part of a greater scheme. A tidy figure accompanied her desire for a tidier mind. So it was she found herself at Jill's door for the first time since that chilly day, in November when she and Jill had assessed one another. Looking at her watch she saw there were a couple of minutes before her actual appointment time, and found she froze, unsure if she wanted to press the button now, or hold this position and think for a little longer, in order to appear entirely punctual for her appointment. She realised this could become obsessive and pressed hard, finding the answering ring within so sudden and strident she actually jumped back from the door a tiny amount. Wow, I'm more nervous than |I thought she said to herself. Just then the door opened and Jill held it wide for Amelia to enter within. Smiling broadly Jill was resplendent in a green shimmering dress which seems to have an iridescent quality to it. Amelia could not help herself thinking this was reminiscent of a dragon, and following on the coat tails of that thought she was imagining herself as a princess, just ripe for binding to a stake for the dragon to consume at her leisure! 12:00 AM | 0 Comments

In Progress - Chapter ?

being prepared in libreoffice right now! query add below>>> they were collapsed in a sweaty heap, or as Pavol would have said, a perspiring pile of warmth think to use A and P except crap for finding so need keystroke to speed up that also just write faster and to do that need to bulk out plot with little chinks.... chUNKS! argh!! “here we are then”, said the satnav as Amelie puffed and panted at the back.... Pavol was not stopping and she was not happy about it. “Turn that damn thing off!” He snapped, “I can tell you we are not there until this fat hill sings like Julie Andrews!” Amelie smiled despite her irritation, one of the things she had always loved about Pavol was the random references and surreal cross referencing of things that simply did not seem to have any place alongside one another. With renewed enthusiasm she put her back into the task in hand and remembering how annoyed he could get if she overdid it and ended up “mashing” at the pedals she made special efforts to keep herself mindful of efficiency, rotating her ankles slightly and aiming to pull lightly with the opposite upstroke and work all the way round each pedal revolution. It felt as though the machinery picked up the harmony and passed it forwards to Pavol, she could feel the tempo ever so gradually increasing, more slowly than an old steam locomotive pulling out of the station, but every bit as sure. It was not long before they became aware of the regular turning of the wheels and the cadence was such that there was a definite `swish` from the tarmac, and Amelie smiled again and hummed to herself; “The hills are alive.....” within seconds Pavol had picked up the reference and his great bass voice was booming out for all it was worth, “..... with the sound of music!”. As luck would have it this was occurring as they crested the summit and before too long they were collapsed in a giggling heap. I told you that satnav wasn't worth it! Pavol moaned as he settled back onto the grass, Oh yes? Said Amelie and what price would you set on getting to hear you doing your Julie Christie as we get to the car park and what price the look on that old chap's face when he realised it was a tandem and we launched into our little duet? Gah! Pavol stood up, I'm seriously thinking we shouldn't be doing that any more, we just look a figure of fun. I agree it is great to enjoy ourselves but I am out here to do some serious cycling too, not always larking around to get my stoker ready for the next leg of a journey Around them were a scattering of picnic tables and in the corner a hut with gents and ladies facilities and a large municipal blue wheelie bin, here and there squirrels and other small rodents alongside birds were picking over the remnants left by people who had visited the beauty spot beforehand, and once again Amelie was struck by the anomaly between using the term “beauty spot” and then the natural human tendency to flock to the place and, collective, despoil it and make it a lot more like an “ugly spot”. She has shared this with P before and now she heard him chirping up again saying, You know it's no different to using the term beauty spot in the way Marie Antoinette did when she had a mole on her upper lip or whatever, the point is we create something super ugly so that when we lift up our eyes OH yeah sure, and you're not just competing with my observation to be a little tiny bit more,..... she paused and blushed a little with frustration, as he managed to do another of the irritating things she couldn’t help adoring in him (but would never have tolerated for a moment in a colleague or stranger.... …. insightful? ,,,, knowledgeable? He suggested the two alternatives to completer her sentence with a certain insouciance as though he had not really been trying to come up with anything especially close to her intended word... Amelie sighed and gazed at the sky as she whispered, half to herself... “if you were only a little more perceptive then you'd know better than to complete my sentences that way Pavol. He groaned, feeling compleytely outwitted again and knowing this was not something he could change, but well aware he did have it in his power to pay more attention to Amelie, he looked over to where she was rising from the grass. Long had it been his belief that the grace and movement of the female form held far more attraction than the inherent (nother word maybe there lost it?) ohysical form. How else could you explain the attraction of the stick thin ballet dancer, he reasoned. As Amelie wandered over to the timber framed hut with the facilities she waved he hand over her shoulders, an all too familiar gesture of hers letting him know that although he had annoyed her it was no more than a gnat bite and she was moving on already. Irritated at the lack of a space to appologise she left him he kicked and scuffed at the sandy earth of the parking lot, before realising that if he carried on he would probably spoil the expensive cleated cycling shoes he was wearing. Anyway, he thought to himself, it really was almost impossible to please all of amelie all of the time. He wondered if telling her that would earn him any reprieve but then decided it would be best to move on. Thinking of moving on he was eager to plan the descent and retrieved the maps and satnav from the bik and panniers to set about making read... I am now thinking that should be the end of a chapter but more significantly that we need to front up this story with a whole set of how they meet and what makes them tick stuff – somehow I have “started in the middle”!! Eek may need a little planning to resolve 12:15 AM | 0 Comments

Savouring creation

and so it came to pass there was no rush. It had been long enough of the mindless urge to mount up words beyond number at a pace that was punishing. This time would be different. this time would progress would not be a measured thing, every little morsel was to be savoured and chewed and mulled over just as much or as little as desired, without any recourse to the "word count" feature or worries of backup, after all anything created once can surely be created "better" when it is the craft of writing involved? Pieter paused and stretched, wondering if it was a worthwhile exercise, this "National Novel Writing Month" has become obsessive to him and taken him away from the normal pursuits he so much cherished and enjoyed. Even during apparently "idle" moments he carried the laptop with him and found himself compulsively tapping out extra words during his journeys around the city, and he missed the idle contemplation of the passing scenery that had previously been available to him, it no longer seemed like wasted time, but rather like a precious luxury he was being denied. But who was denying him? Only the tyranny of the word count and the clock, and Pieter well knew that he was master of one, and that the other was an only a tyrant if he allowed it to be, it had taken the advice of a few close friends, but now he saw for himself that so long as he could support himself without writing he owed it to himself to write at a rhythm dictated by his own life and physical needs more than those of any collective project.... 04:06 AM | 0 Comments