Type: Freestyle Writing
Time: 15 min + edit
Without eating we started out, the road dumped of builders’ leftovers. This man is going to die – everyday something getting cut from his body. Trees nudged each other, and laughed with the wind. We stopped to rest – watched little ants doing their job. Under the grey sky, the step crumbled. I chat about work to the jasmine flowers. He brought apples with him which I found funny. “Apples are eaten at home only”. He dangled his legs, his thick glasses matching the deep lake. The weakness on that day. “What is wrong my dear? “ Apples, apples. What is she saying what is she saying. Maybe I need help. I need to talk to him about it. The step crumbled more. “Let’s move on”. The birds peaked. My tiny mind cleared a bit.
“I need nappies for the baby!”
“A few more minutes and then we carry on”. “I cant find my shoes.”
He started “A builder fell off that crumb the other day, 3 past 7 in the morning.” pausing to munch on his piece of cheese. “No one found him.”
I need to memorise. “He tried to climb up the crumbs too, but an overused step gave away”. “We need to go we’ll be late.” “don’t do something silly you might regret” The steam opened us up like clam shells and we began to think, and take notes. I wish I could pause and deep think, but that isn’t the point. No no, we need to leave. “We’re only a few blocks away”…. We need to keep going. Apples, oranges, trees…can we stop now? The cars zoomed past. Smell of liquorice floated out the windows. We threw rubbish bins at each other at this spot, 4 years ago. A few others came down on ropes, was that even real? “Real…?” … “Of course now try to walk faster”. We stepped up the pace, making sandwiches as we walked. Night began to fall, the snake holes began to appear, and the little drops flew with the wind. The stream stopped and the birds quietened. Two groups of pigeons huddled together. We ate ice-cream sandwiches and felt the frost get stuck in between our nostrils. A flu, a fly and seven ladybugs. Forty little crumbs and a step that makes no sense. He still went on. “We want to get some rest so we might be able to finish off in the morning.” What would I do if I was put into such a situation?. Why do they do that, and does it really have a history? Are there any other views?. The water shook. We tried to catch fish with our bare hands. A girl dropped her pretzel in the water, tried to look for it, and never came back. We looked at each other and carried on. We should wait for the rest. His back hunched and attire swept the dust. I questioned and he looked back once, but never again. The wolves didn’t even look at us when we passed by — nosy things. We can’t stop yet, the willow tree might fall on us. An orange truck should’ve been at the end of the pond, when we arrived, to pick us up.