“Instead of writing down everything that happens in your day, give your day a twist by fictionalising it”
“Practise using the 6 elements of story: Action, Description, Dialogue, Introspection, Emotion, and Exposition”
The windows were shut, but the cold seeped through. I stood listening for a sound, a movement. My Ritter packet dropped to the floor. The office chairs didn’t crank, the garage door didn’t rumble.
I sat down, trying to straighten my back. I looked up at ceiling hole and frowned. “Aren’t you going to spit?”. The circles beneath my eyes darkened. Orange streaks leaked in, in between the blind slits. I slapped my cheek. “Wake up”. I picked up the empty packet of chocolate, and began to tear it into little pieces. The pink bits drifted to the ground. They say breath. Just breath. Because it’s supposed to help. My muscles were tight, but I tried to get up. Then the curtains moved. A pair of legs ran passed under the curtain net, followed by another pair.
“Pick me up Mummy”
“I want to go on the swing”
“No, me, mummy”
Then there was only left the shadows. But I knew what came after the shadows. I clambered down the cupboard, and crawled behind the wall unit. I couldn’t afford them smell me of onions. The plastic on the laundry door rattled, and then I heard the creaking pram wheels. They go louder. I flinched. “Pick me up”. Came again. “Mummmy”.
“Inhale, Exhale.” Aikai would say, “Exhale, Inhale”. He would try to hide his glow. What was he to be proud of? I let go of my muscles. I had to act like I was doing something. I needed something to fiddle with.