Month Away- April (02.04.’16)


“Instead of writing down everything that happens in your day, give it a twist and fictionalise it”
“Practise using the 6 elements of story: Action, Description, Dialogue, Introspection, Emotion, and Exposition”

The sun came out and then slipped away – time to time – wrapped amidst the clouds, a suffocating baby in the womb. The cold tidderish feeling crawled into every slit and window teasing my emotions. I woke up late at eight and found (a) who had found the birds nest which lay hidden in between the plastic and glass – it would be nice to watch birds grow and be fed. they’re having babies everywhere even up the stove fan. I look into the mirror and see something that i was rid of a year and a half ago – puppy fat that grew by milicents, i cry. I pause to sharpen my pencil, like the days when there would be a pot of ink on the desk. I look back up and scratch my head for the 20th time, these lice are surely reproducing quick. The milk bottle was delivered top to the neck today and (U) said the cow must’ve been talked to – we cracked up at that. I pause to take in the roses on my other notebook “You changed your cover” she remarked biting into cheese toast. It was the old black one. I realised pink wasnt me “yeah i got sick of the other” “(U) won’t be able to give it to you now, since its different and unrecognisable” I’m a puppy how it matched me. Before nemo and the kids came the sun set and my two pieces of toast were dead after the conversation about milk and my iphone covers. The toilet won’t flush, and the sun hardly came out – it’s been a partially cold afternoon, except for the sight of nemo’s new and clever wall aroumf her house – makes me excited like finding a warm spot of direct sunlight in your room. The sounds coming from the kitchen downstairs makes me want to roll into bed and hug my pillow. A fly gets stuck in his hair. Is she after his mouse again?. U’s cup reminds me of a yellow auburn dress. It matches the sponge, but it’s not auburn, I realise, – auburn isn’t part of the yellow family. My head is in a mess, I have too many things to try to put together, I want to start writing short stories, even if they don’t make sense, they need to somehow afterwards. If they make sense to me it is enough. I need to agree. There needs to be some exercises I do daily, not random prompts, those are for other times. “Gather your favourite and most productive exercises that oil your head well and list them down on a paper” You couldn’t copy and paste that tree could you. Settle for the little. A bench for three.  A character runs across room to room to not get talked to. Poison drips behind honeyed words.

Fictionalised Version
The sun came out and then slipped away, wrapped amidst the clouds; a suffocating baby in the womb. Scratching sounds could be heard in the kitchen downstairs. And with no warning, the door opened. “What are you doing here doctor?”.
He mumbled something to himself and threw his arm out towards the window

My crusty eyebrows peaked “What is it?”
“The.. w-w-…window..”
There in between the plastic and glass, rested another bird’s nest.
“You can’t just remove them” I began. “I want to watch the babies grow, and feed from their mothers”. He hesitated, then moved closer to the dark shadow. “But, they everywhere”. “I know” I crossed my arms, and turned to gaze out the other window for a different view. This issue is getting to me.
“L…L..Look, eggs everywhere, even up the stove fan”. Why is he up this early?.  I curled; the cold wind flaring my emotions. “Please, Doc. Just shut the window and go back to bed”
He frowned and settled under the window. My heart pinched itself.  “ milk bottle is already here. Full to the brim”.
“Mil must’ve talked nicely to her, maybe?”.
I glanced at the the black roses on his notebook. “You changed your cover?”
“I…I.. got sick of the other”.
“Hovercraft won’t recognise it anymore.”. The little boy loved finding deedee’s notebook layed down, so he can hand it to him “hm…hm”


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