Scented Butter

 

Freestyle Prompt (Disappointment)
Time: 30 min + edit

Who is this? Last year’s memories dried up.  “Well you could have come earlier” “I thought you should be asleep.”
He opened his gift; the paper was thrown onto the ground, and the keys were gone, I looked out the window and sighed. “This isn’t right.”
“You need to come home darling.” “Please, give me another chance.”
“My friend, you disappoint me!”
“but I’m old, and live beyond the blue hedge, besides the creek”
We peek through the crack to see lego men cutting down (AK)’s willow tree. “Come lets go”. “What about the cow?” I squeezed out of my chair and ran into the kitchen, to wash the 2 cups that sat on the bench. My heart frowned at the happy sponge bathing in the scents of lemon, and then the shopping arrived. I unpacked and put things away; croissants, peanut butter, shampoo, honey, bread (nice ones dotted with black and white seeds.) A packet of apple tart looked us all in the eye, and I hid behind Danish pastry, digestive biscuits, snickers, and bubble-gum. He drew out an enormous dollhouse for the kids, then some money. I don’t just eat at the time I’m hungry, I’m a civilized, much better person today than yesterday.
Then we all gather, laugh, and I envision the unblocking of my shower block ticked off my productivity list by morning. I wake up in the morning, and Koala arrives, I laugh and tickle him, then throw him on my back – easy stuff. Then he wakes up. I’m tired because I haven’t slept the entire morning. He’s cranky, and knocks my plate of sausages and spinach salad onto the carpet. I go red, and count the minutes.  Smacking my plate down onto the bench, I go for the rolls of bread – warmth, with a touch of butter, with the scent of her son’s perfume. The perfume (A) & (M) scenting the house before dawn. Or the airport – a smell of smoke and perfume entwined. You drag yourself around and then hop for a bit. After a while you sigh, it looks like no one’s coming, so you settle your hands down on the larder shelf. Fingers stick together like an illegal paw, and then grab onto red packets and rip them open, like the kitten, then the leftovers, and more bread and butter. We sit together eating our 5th lunch.
“Maybe Koala needs a nappy change” “wait I’ll ask him”,
“do you want your mother Koala?” “What is wrong with you, you’re moving!” , Sit down, and eat. Good boys eat when they’re hungry, they don’t turn their hunger into anger. I pull his shirt up and pinch his bellybutton, put him back and feel like time is ticking, the clock passes on its way with two tiny legs, im dreaming again that’s right. He looks at me then makes to the highway crawling  “Not the door!”, and plays with the latch. “one day… one day you’re going to close those fingers in the door” “ Now come back and eat more.” “Eat”… “Or go back to sleep.” He chuckles. “I’m serious” then he gets mad. We try to stop him from moving. He just wants to grow! We laugh, crunching on the last bits of a celery stick.

The disappointment when your hopes fly high, In a good mood, you plan this and that, tomorrow you wake up feeling cranky and have too much for breakfast. You become disappointed like you failed yourself. If that happens once or twice okay, though when it keep repeating same process, same outcome, you begin to slowly lose hope in yourself. I find nothing, when I set high expectations.

I waited out in the hail. People going about their daily chores in suits, and track suits; the kids running with white- berry flavoured milk cartons. I sigh and looked down. The drops made a snail hurry to the curb. I gazed at the sky, no one was flying from their crafts.

I remembered nemo. She needed a visit, so I hop onto the train, the kids poked me. I coughed, to cheer people up but no one stirred. You can ignore, but you can’t ignore this: Pulling the train stop, everyone jolted up. Settle down, kids. These little muffins, you’re not educated are you? The one with curly orange hair looked as if he was about to cry. I’m sorry ma petite.

My wife was supposed to be ordering me some boots from this online shops,  thought she was going to buy it as a gift, turns out purple pens don’t exist anymore .. What are you going to do about it?

Time is precious The cold makes you want to eat. Their faces – different decorated cupcakes, asleep under the door. With a mighty heaviness in your chest, you feel to vomit. The cycle repeats itself. Just because things are going well, doesn’t mean you’re safe, rather, you should take advantage and boost that productivity. Are you finished lecturing up there? “No…” He slid down the grease pole. “I don’t need to learn French, I mean, there’s cooking, there’s writing, there’s sewing, there’s woodwork.” I hide in a pit avoiding eye contact with productivity. I come to find the hole in the ceiling dry, maybe she is asleep, maybe she fell asleep in her chair, and might get a sore neck. He still sleeps with his beanie – I’ve stopped wearing mine to bed now –Water trickles onto my desk, now I need to pull back every time

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Page 51

Type: Exercise – Find the nearest book to you, turn to page 51, take the first sentence of the last paragraph, and use it as your first sentence.
Time: 10 minutes

“Now they have to lay out their words so that they can be scanned easily.”  –Creative Writing Coursebook
Sir you haven’t laied out yours yet. I jitted at his sudden bark, and moved closer m while sitting – the chair making a loud screech. He looked at me from under his moustache. And then with the thought I wasn’t worth looking at, he turned to the young boy besides me. You! His big chubby hands confidently placed down a piece of blue paper with a thud and airy nose. I winked at him and he laughed making his cheecks fold. I sighed and turned to look out the window. A man riding his bicycle back from the zoo, with the tied zebras trying to run to catch up with him. Their splinters jogged and he laughed cowardly. That is cruel. 6 to 3 in the morning he passes by my window, however today, he must see something different. I paused and tapped my chin unconsciously. They weren’t finished yet. “Why does it always take so long to get in and out of these cues”” I turn to see a younglin in dark jelly shoes, yes I understand your concerns, however the mornings are always full. This nonsense isn’t going to stop unless you throw a brick. I fainted at that point, but what is more important is no one noticed, They thought a tsetse fly had bitten me, they were everywhere, like a fly like fly. He looked forlorn when I arrived back. The black lilies were painted with yellow smiley faces – it must be the neighbour’s kids I mumbled to my headphones, as I tried to untangle esteem. This is mad. And then I see him carrying a projector and looking stubborn. Don’t look at me like that he said, brushing me with his thick blue jacket. I… Don’t. Im sorry!, I threw him an orange from my lunchbox and he cackled, I forgot the black lillies, and picked them for baddy boods visit.
“Come over when youre free, if you ever are” I called. He nodded with big teeth showing and carried on. The people on the sidewalk looked strange, belonging to another land. I touched them to see what they felt like and they screeched. I blushed. That’s okay, its alright. I sit down under a yellow umbrella made in Poland, and decipher the boys gestures down in the park. He had chubby hands, how did he write? I smeared my flue nose with the end my jacket, and got everyone ignoring me’s attention, I wished id never done that –  id appreciated being background noise at that very moment, but I was brought to stage, and unfinished cackles spit. I fit forlorn for the rest of the day, until I got back home with the black lilies and set them on the table, then made tomato soup for the three children.  I fed them pumpkin sticks in ice.

 

“Men and The Universe”
“There is in the pancreas a cluster of glandular epithelia cells for secreting enzymes that pour into the enzymes the pour into the intestine where three types of food are digested: proteins, carbohydrates, and fats.”

 

Fly Rummages

Freestyle: Prompt (Fly Rummages… )
Time: 10 minutes

A fly tickled his ear, but he didn’t move. The sun fell over his shoulders creating a shadow for the ants and lizards to supply provision for their little ones, in dark holes. I tried to keep calm. The street was empty for the mornings, but today it cleft happily like yesterday. His eyes seemed to be twinkling and he had a sheepish grin on his face, he was thinking. I cleared my throat as I came up to him “” yes?”” he jumped. I smiled and sat besides him, his velvet green jeans made me hot. What is it youre doing here today my dear? He looked around and then breathed and let out a breath of happiness or success. I looked at the bus arriving with workers for the company of Ticklez. What is it they say here, that flies are friends? He turned and looked away again. No. That isn’t true. I know, but what does it mean!. He smiled and looked back at me. Flies tend to carry oestrogen throughout the body and into each others nostrils. They say they have some odl sayings like that. I cackled. Was he trying to mislead me off the bathroom path. No my son, this is different to the saying I have back home. His golden clippers chained to his jeans tingled when he go t up and then sat down. He looked towards the downhill, where the foxes would run freely, and little blue house sat – he covered his eyes with his hand, You salute the foxes son? Haha I added. No. but they look gorgeous  in the sun, theyre orange hair turns red! He excplamed happily. I say, Do you like the croissants in the buckleham bakery? Or you prefer these ? I pointed to the muffin sign behind us. A pink old cottage which was entrusted to a Chinese retired karate man. He stooped his legs. There is too many sprinkles in here, I prefer buckle… what is it called? BuckleBerry Shop Bakery. Yes, ah, I need to catch my bus at 10 I must be late, I don’t know why but last night we had office at up north where people sing songs and mimic each other. This makes non sense. He tried to crouch behnd me when his bus arrived, so I kicked him and let out my big laugh warming to the children. He dazed in a joke and says bye bye mon per.! And waved to me as he jogged down to the sation with his thin jeans and jumper making him look far,. The bus was full of curly haired boys the age of 15 and he didn’t have curly hair this one, his hair straight and floppy. I calmed myself down, the summer heat sizzled at the rotten nails beneath me, and I at my eclaire peacefully. The little girl in a Japanese robe passed by, her hands in pockets and and her smile like that of a frog. I suspected her, but then looked away, and wrote something like 5 – 3 – 2. And then the police truck passed by, delivering bagels to the soldiers in the hut outside my home. You will not like such? I winked at the driver who threw me another bagel. That same fly calculated my crumbs and sat besides me, not on me this time. He must be full, the old ferero. (21.04.16)

Plumage

Freestyle Prompt (Locked)
Time: 10 minutes + edit

My heart creaked, and my eyes darted left to right, right to left.Why wont you touch ground you gigantic bird? Trapped, high above prison level; I see toy houses, and maybe Indians going about their after-work chores, buying bottled water, and huge pots to cook rice in, the little farms with goats and people running about buying take away. I want a goat, or even a huge pot to cook rice in. Look at your aluminium and fake plumage, who even thought of making you? These were the moments my uncle feared and tried to prevent; if he was going to fall from the sky; he always wished he would have a heart attack,or faint, before impact, and would rather drown in the sea on a sinking boat. Drowning isn’t easy either. I want to feel the ground again – the more the plane dips to the right, I try to maintain a balance with my own weight – without my body layers enveloping -The clouds block views. I hear people down talking and people up talking,The ground the ground, what are all the good things I could do if we reach land safe. The engine played ghost. Far away, a parrot locked eyes onto something unable to move. When (N) used to lock the bathroom and sit in the bath for 1 and a half hours – when half an hour seemed eternity to me, I would sit at the back of the door, droopy eyes, the smell of burning head showers and the misty steam . The sound of murmuring men; I wanted my mother instead at that moment. After waiting too long, I sneak into the boys’ room, sniffing out the older one – my pillow forced to follow. I would climb into bed with him, and then the younger one would join. We giggled under the purple, green and white quilt gran made. The tap runs, the mist and robe strings dangle across the hallway. I’d race to the room, to not get locked out…  I didn’t look. Then we’d go to bed, creeping up to (N)’s bed by midnight, to annoy.

Broken Swing

Freestyle: Picture Prompt (+ words: Broken Swing, Fog)
Time: 30 Minutes + edit

She dangled from one arm, which rusted away to join the other, and fog gathered in my eyes. The young man I met yesterday sits still on the bench looking towards the park, I took rest besides her. Red eyes beamed at my shadow. “A broken swing” the voice quivered, “ohh not the broken swing.”Calm down now, calm down.”I looked down to avoid eye contact, “my feet!”.  The apple tackled itself in my costume pocket, and Tubby flew out in rage – someone ate her food. She scattered gold bolts, and I got up to carry cartons of dried mint and chicken stock to my van that rested outside. “Should I paint you yellow?”Darkness crawled into a cramped tunnel, and my mother’s pickles sat atop the pink bench. I picked up my cup of tea. They thought I was getting younger, when I laughed. Should I have breakfast today?” The Siamese besides me smiled and rubbed its eyes. I browsed through an Ikea catalog, while the maid gazed through the mountains. “They said you have to take a break”… “My dear”, she began. It was about the nappy in the rubbish bin, which stunk out the living room. I looked out the window as well. A tree and a hedge sat together cornered by the cows. I parked my brain and felt at rest immediately. “Will you come with me?”
“No I can’t.” The fog worries them, after Pumpkin Time. It caused a quarter of the invitees to cancel their invite, and the rest to crash into barracks, and donkey carts – though the donkeys were away. I laughed; cloptyshoes stuck in mud; lifted garments, and families running back home. They came as a group; the doctor being the convoy. I stood at the high laundry door looking down at them. Most just continue and turn right into the claustrophobic tent.  The women in white looked back at me, ignored me, and took group selfies. I sighed deep down – my face pink from sunlight -, and looked back at her. She was doing her best. They both were. Was it such a bad thing? No. I hated to be in her position – getting shouted at through the phone and having to shout at the shivering DJ. They arrived with all kinds of colours from blue to green. I sighed again – loudly -and looked back ; we were late. I enacted all the gestures in my head that might come of this, afterwards . Was it a bad agreement, this late afternoon business? I patted my breast pocket. Blue satin – a sweetness of sweat. They became frantic “We need to get things going as soon as possible.” she confronted Koala’s mother. They needed to get back, before the doctor leaves. She showed me pictures on her phone and I chuckled. Is that you or your daughter? Why do you dress her up like that? And in this cold, what makes you dress up like that?! “Is that meat from half a cow?” I asked. I clear my throat; my tongue longs for vegetables.The screech went on for some time, until she fell through. A ninja paused in air.  She giggled and pointed at me.  I calmed down and sat with Koala in my laps. He got my beanie, but the rest were offered whatever I could find, apart from towels and huge blankets which were the warmest – it was too risky to make a joke out of myself at that moment. A peach sat shivering next to the 80’s machine – worrying about the snow, maybe. We got attention from the variety of faces, making me numb; which face should I wear? So I used Koala to my advantage when Nemo got me up. I decided to act responsible and experienced, or as if this was an everyday occurrence. The atmosphere swung right and left. Before any sort of eye contact, I rushed to a clap and smile position. “Why are they quiet” I whispered to Koala. He wiped his snot on me, and kicked the table. They picked at the ice cream dessert, heads dangling down, but I came back to stare at its beauty. Goat fat and powdered cream drawled down my top as we stuffed meaty legs into the fridge. Ay busied himself with the broom, after dragging in the straw-bag of leftover bread rolls. The trail of crumbs made En guffaw, and my stomach warned me of a tsunami.. We controlled ourselves, then crossed each other in the hall and roared out.
“Go to sleep” said A, trying to hold his laughter.  I left dragging along my emotions and a heavy chest. The man in the lounge nodded at me without noticing. I sighed, again,  and wondered what kind of tissue was in my pocket. Had it not been for green shoes, I would wear it.

Strange

Type: Freestyle Prompt (Fake)
Time: 10 Minutes + edit
You get mad when trying to clothe a bin and it breaks the rubbish bag. Have the rubbish bins gotten fatter?  We crossed a dainty shop with turquoise fur sprawled out on the bench and then marched in silence with a friend, because there wasn’t anything important, say most of the time. The throne a teary bride rides, and flowers cut from their roots, lose meaning just as expensive weddings reduce happiness. Those lights went wild on the ceiling – even Koala wasn’t entertained. Eating in restaurants to be a part of class. Fake laughs, fake glitter, fake wood, fake smiles, fake warmth, fake food, so I fake out of the room in a mask. Trapped, you blurt out unnecessary speech, trying to mend your mouth back: that’s silly and confusing. Something to decorate the air with maybe. They pull back and you’re left with your words echoing away – strange.Listen, hear words escape deep pipes. A plastic tree, with cakes, hanging from its muscles. A taste you look for to share your disappointment with, and fill in the emptiness; something to soothe the moment; even if it’s just the moment, you’ll deal with Hard when it gets here. Where do you plan to go with silence?

Stillness Stands…

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Type: Freestyle with Prompt
Time: 10 minutes + edit
“Go with them in their suitcases”.
We’d laugh at that, and then cry. Were there too many of them, or were they just overweight. We’d sleep the whole morning, but the smell of rough rolls would wake me up – ones my mother must’ve unpacked. I got my doll out and washed it in a bucket just like I did with the curly haired little girl – how meticulous she was about the dirt, just as the old mothers and aunts were. Dressed in a long shirt, she scrubs, as slush falls onto the tiles. We would walk to the back, greet the animals, and then it was back to the house. We had to put curtains up as the sun set early, blinding mrs.U. The smell of mothballs, and vibration of wheel rumbling on the tiles upstairs, the bashes as the two brothers pulled them upstairs – welcome back. I can hear my heart and lunges, because there’s no machines running. Too much oxygen. We would drag out the straw carpets and sit on light things. The night cold hammers into my bones. Dogs bark and donkeys bray outside, then the stillness stands out. I would hear her soft snores as some life – and tilt my head up in the darkness, to see, – just to see what my hand looks like at least. The darkness barriers me from my body; I remember the grave. The baby owls complain out from the wall trees.
I wake up in the morning, feeling too close to nature – nothing of plastic, or that same oxygen cycle; the day one would open up their suitcase. The drawers in our cupboards were made for a pair of shoes for each draw, not that I was going to unpack though- this time my stuff stays in, because I was going back tomorrow – if not, after tomorrow, or the day after that… Maybe someday, but I needed to stay in the suitcase – a womb cord I resisted to cut. My screen would tick 2:00. We imagined running to the beach with our towels, for a swim before breakfast, just like the kids of Kirrin Cottage. The reality was Nemo found a bone – one would crack open, and close – something she still has up to now -. She found old paper belonging to a lost scientist who found his way over here as well, some time ago.  The reality was unpacking, writing shopping lists, pulling out moth-smelling old toys and gadgets, and crimpled clothes that might’ve smelt like mould if it weren’t for the moth balls.  Kitchen draws had the Swedish candy smell emanating, and bringing back those laughs sniggers and farewell hugs.The teeth shaped one disappeared, and was never found again – everyone suspected everything. They were intense. Dime; that red packet of joy, we would pull, and pull, and pull from. And that is what has brought me to this page. The moth balls scented the house, but not the suitcases.
They stayed smelling of Ülker biscuits, soft-omo washed clothes, and desert dust.