…is something that I have always liked doing. In my late teens and early twenties I used to write all kinds of short stories and I loved it. Part of my job involves a certain amount of writing; things like copy for events, marketing plans etc but I feel the urge to be a little more creative.
I have decided to take one subject a week and write about it. I am not going to plan it too much I will just see what pops into my head or choose something inanimate, like a chair, and weave a little story around it. The writing will be mostly fiction as this is the kind of writing I enjoy most.
This is purely an exercise, for myself, in becoming a better writer. I don’t for one minute think I am any great shakes at this, but I do enjoy writing, and thought it was about time I did it a bit more.
I will share my writing here with you on my blog and will welcome your comments, good or bad!
Here is my first piece.
T h e G r e e n R e c y c l e B a g
I was somewhere between a half-remembered dream and thinking about my first cup of tea when I was stirred by the faint sound of clanking. The bed was so warm and my body ached to stay where it was, but after a few puzzled seconds I realised what the clanking sound was; the refuse lorry.
I sat bolt upright in bed, swung my legs round and headed downstairs, a little too fast considering I had only woken a few seconds before.
The green recycle bag sat in the corner of the dining room full to bursting with well read magazines, unwanted leaflets, and shredded correspondence; the night before it had completely slipped my mind to leave it out. However, the last time I remembered to put it out the night before, some idiot, probably fuelled by too much alcohol, decided to kindly redistribute the entire contents of the green bag all over the pavement in front of the house. I am sure this seemed so utterly hilarious and daring after five pints of lager but in the cold light of day it was nothing more than a very irritating and messy inconvenience. I didn’t have time for cup of tea that morning. I was not happy.
God it was heavy, had someone slipped a few bricks in there while I wasn’t looking? I managed to drag it to the front door. I stepped out onto the path and took a sudden sharp breath as my warm, bare feet touched the cold, gritty surface. I more or less hopped and skipped down the path trying to avoid the loose, sharp chippings. I hauled the overfilled recycle bag out in front of the gate, looking round and hoping no-one had seen my sleepy make-up-less face.
I closed the door and walked through to the kitchen with thoughts of tea and toast. The sun was streaming through the window and as I leaned against the counter I could hear the house coming alive slowly, feet padding across the landing. I enjoyed the last few moments of peace before another busy day began.
This little piece of writing is inspired by the fact that I a l w a y s forget to put out the recycle bag and it is invariably full to bursting!
I hope you are having a great weekend?