creative writing
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A perfect ending to a painful day
A perfect disaster
What had he just said? Julie stood shaking, why was she not good enough? Why was she never good enough? Julie had aspired for more, but she had ended up in a back street restaurant waiting dirty tables. As Richard’s words filled her head, the tears started. Why was she upset? She hated this job, Maybe the whining customer had done her a favour. Not good enough to wait his table, Julie threw her apron down and walked out.
As she reached the high street with its fancy shops, she told herself to pull herself together. She couldn’t pay this months rent but she no longer had to worry about ‘Richards grill bar’. What now? Job centre tomorrow? Internet search tonight? What did she really want to do with her life?
At twelve she had wanted to work with dogs, at fourteen with children, then at fifteen she thought about teaching. After failing Maths GCSE she considered that maybe teaching was not her vocation. At seventeen she considered working in a shop, then at nineteen she thought about A levels and University. This had led her down a rabbit hole of studying the wrong course and graduating with a history degree. Julie had thought about becoming an Historian, but was not sure if this was the perfect career for her.
Job search
Not knowing what she wanted to do with her life had meant she had gone from dead end job to dead end job and lived in a grotty one bed bedsit. Life was far from perfect. She was also single, twenty-five and now living the life of a jobless single girl, maybe soon to be homeless.
Telling herself not to think like that she kept walking, Bright lights and happy voices surrounded her. The posh restaurants with their expensive menus, no point in going there for work, wouldn’t be long before she would tip gravy down a wealthy man’s business suit. Though, she thought, that could lead to something more, get herself noticed by a wealthy man, maybe not a bad career decision. She smiled to herself and kept walking. Through the laughing people she went, wishing she was already home.
As her pocket vibrated, she knew who it was, glancing at the screen she hit the end button. She was not in the mood for a long conversation with Rachel. Rachel with her perfect life, perfect boyfriend, perfect job. Julie knew she needed to do something about her situation but didn’t know where to start.
The homeless man
Seeing the man sat in his usual place by the subway she wondered what his story was. Sitting alone on a cold night wrapped in his sleeping bag, she asked herself if he had once had a grotty bed sit. What had put him here? Homeless and now sat in front of her on the pavement, she reached into her pocket for some change. Finding just a £5 note she thought for a fleeting moment of taking change from his tray, no she wouldn’t do that. Placing the money down in front of him she asked if she could sit down. The man nodded, maybe grateful for the company.
Smelling the man next to her, she realised that he hadn’t bathed in days, she thought of the homeless shelter and again wondered what happened that had brought him here. Trying to start a conversation she told him how she had been fired tonight. How her life was far from perfect. The homeless man looked at her and nodded and said,
“Perfection is what you believe it to be. I’m perfect sat here. No bills, no stress, people bring me food or put money in my bowl, I’m doing alright.” He smiled at her with a handsome grin on his young grimy face.
Julie was surprised, how could he be alright?
“Aren’t you cold and lonely? What brought you here?”
No family
“I have no family and after I lost my job my wife threw me out the house. She kept all the money and my car, I was a terrible to live with and she said that I made her miserable. I’ve been sat here six months now. Very few people make the time to talk with me, but you have,”
“What was your job?”
“I worked at the University, I was a support worker and I loved it. I helped out in the history department, but due to cutbacks they are no longer teaching history degrees anymore. Hence, I am now out of work and now I’m on the street, it’s impossible to get a job.”
“My degree is history but somehow tonight I was sacked from ‘Richards Grill’.”
“The dirty restaurant down the Sea Road?”.
“Yes, that’s it.”
“Well, I can see you are worth more than that. Do you know what some of our students ended up doing with a history degree?”
“Historian, but I’ve always fancied working with kids. Can’t be a teacher though as I failed maths?”
A career idea
“Some of our students went on to be tour guides at the museum, you could be perfect for it, Young, attractive and educated, worth a try.”
Julie hadn’t thought of the museum, she looked at her new friend.
“What is your name? I’m Julie.”
“I’m Peter.”
“Peter, have you considered working at the museum too? I’m sure you have learnt a lot from the university”.
“I’m homeless, I’m stuck here.”
“I have an idea, I don’t know you, but I could give you some clothes. How about I meet you at the homeless shelter tomorrow at 11.00 am, you get a shower, wash your hair, I will bring you clothes, shampoo and shower gel. Then we will go to the museum together, maybe they will be sympathetic to your situation. Would give you something to motivate you and hopefully get you off the street”.
“Okay, it’s a deal, I will meet you, its worth a try”.
The museum
The next day after showering and smelling now of fresh flowers and dressed in a smart grey suit, Julie and Peter arrived at the museum. Asking to speak with the Curator they then explained their situations. Listening to Julie he could see she would be a perfect tour guide, perfect for the school visitors. With Peter he was more hesitant, no fixed address but full of relevant experience. He sat for a while and realised that at any time any of us could end up like Peter. He didn’t always get on with his wife, but hoped she would be empathetic if he was made redundant, not put him on the street.
“I’m going to help you both. Julie you can start tomorrow. Peter I’m trusting that you still have a bank account, so we can pay you. I’m going to talk to a mate of mine who rents out properties, I know he has a one bed flat near here, so he can give you somewhere to live and get you off the street.”
Peter looked at him, this was incredible. He had only just met the museum curator and he had offered him a job and sorted him somewhere to live. He looked at Julie smiling back at him, a perfect day, a perfect woman and hopefully a supportive boss.
Six months later
As Peter stood organising the leaflets, he could hear Julie. He knew he had to somehow make her his. Newly divorced it was time to move on. They had been out together a few times now as friends, but he knew that he wanted more. She was perfect and all he could think about. Tonight, he was going to tell her.
The sea front
Sat by the sea, Julie looked at the man next to her. She saw his handsome smile and knew that he was someone special. They had discussed many subjects and walked many hours together, but tonight as she stared at him, she realised he was going to kiss her. As he put his hand on hers and then lent in, she moved towards him too to reciprocate.
Finding this man on the street had changed her life. Usually, she would have just walked on past, but that night something had made her stop. Meeting him must have been destiny and now she had the perfect job and possibly perfect boyfriend, and she was happy.
Written for Blog Battle – word prompt – Perfect
for more see – Snow, Cold and the Old Farmhouse – written for Blog Battle – Axiomatic
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Snow, Cold and the Old Farmhouse
A snow day
Lying in bed, I can hear the wind howling outside. Thinking through what I need to do today I pull the covers up and shut my eyes, attempting to ignore the day, and shut the world out. Hearing a happy scream, I realise that sleep is not going to happen as my daughter Betsy comes flying into the room and jumps on my bed. Pretending to not hear, she starts screaming louder.
“Snow, snow, it’s snowing, Mummy it’s snowing.”
Rolling over, I groan, I hate snow. It’s cold and wet and my car can’t hold traction to the road in it. Forcing myself to sit up, I know I can’t put the day off any longer. Glancing at the window, the garden is white, and the trees are swaying. Snow is always exciting for a child, but they don’t have to worry about getting about in it. For a child it often means, school is closed so out with the sleigh. As my table starts vibrating and my phone does a dance, my day has well and truly started.
Work crisis
As the doctor in a small rural community, it is always me that gets the call when someone is hurt. Battling through the snow I’ve known for months that I need to replace my car. I need a four-wheel drive for the country roads and today I need snow tyres. Slipping and sliding around the country lanes in my old Ford I pray that I get to my patients safely.
Reaching the derelict farm, I see the police, and an ambulance. Pulling on my wellies, I started walking towards the commotion. Greeted by the paramedic, he wished me luck, I wondered why. Walking in, old Mrs Masters pulled my arm. Tears were pouring down her face, I knew that she had not told me everything when she had called me out. “Doctor, please come”, did not cover Mr Masters lying on the living room floor dead and their son sat nursing a bleeding wound.
Looking up at the police man, I enquired what had happened. He informed me that during the night an intruder had entered the farmhouse. Mr Masters had threatened them with his shot gun, but the stranger had disarmed him and then turned the gun on him. He was long gone into the snow, leaving devastation behind him. Asking what he had wanted, Mrs Masters now through tears asked me to sit down. As the doctor I have known this family many years and did not expect to hear this story.
Snow and the farm
When the snow comes to the farm and the wind blows a cold chill, something in the house is wakened. Years ago, Mr Masters had been in the basement when he found an old box. Left by previous owners who were rumoured to have fled the house one night and never returned. Inside the box was paperwork and photographs detailing how dangerous the farmhouse is when the weather turns cold and it snows. The ice formed creates dangerous patterns on the windows and tells tales of what has happened before.
Tonight, the intruder had stolen the box. Mrs Masters had lost her husband to a box that told secrets about their home. Why would a stranger want the box? What business is this to anyone, other than the Masters family?
As Geoff, the policeman sat down next to me, I knew I was about to find out. Two months ago, a stranger had appeared in town. We get many tourists, but this one had made himself known by asking questions that had raised suspicions. I’d shrugged him off as just friendly but now I remember him asking about the Masters farmhouse. Geoff then advised that the stranger was possibly Bill Arnold, the son of the previous owners who had fled.
This needed investigating further, we needed to find him. What is in the box that can help Bill? What are we missing here? How dangerous is the Farmhouse?
The Arnold family
“Geoff, we need to find the Arnold Family, we need to know why they fled? What the real reason was. We then might know why he took that box tonight and why it was so important that he killed Mr Masters for it.”
“Truth is Doc, the Arnold family didn’t go too far away. From what I’ve been told they are about thirty miles away in Peace River.”
Thirty miles, in this weather. “Do you have four-wheel drive and snow tyres?”
“Yes, why what are you suggesting?”
“We need to talk with the Arnolds and possibly find the box. Ted Masters died for a reason, and the Arnolds fled for a reason. The story of this house in the snow, sure sounds creepy, especially when pictures are formed in the ice on the windows.”
Peace River
On reaching the town, everything was silent, where was everyone? Passing the pub, we could see the door open, so stopped the car and parked. Walking into the bar, this place was quiet but not empty. Seeing a familiar face I hoped we might find the people we were looking for.
“Hey Doc, what brings you to Peace River?”
“A mysterious house and a family who ran.”
“How do you mean.”
“Ed, do you happen to know someone with the name Arnold?”
As the pub went quiet, I knew I had been heard. As a little lady appeared and grabbed my arm,
“Not here, come with me.” Nodding at Geoff I motioned for him to follow. Walking into the pub kitchen I could see more blood. Why all the blood?
“I know why you have come. The Masters Farmhouse is dangerous, and they need to get out.”
“You know Mr Masters is dead don’t you.”
“What did the disease get him too.”
“Disease, no, he was shot, shot for a box full of paperwork and secrets.”
Disease
This was becoming quite a day. I could now see two people lying on beds in a little room off the kitchen. A young man, Brian, was tending to them and reading, The box was not just any box, and the farmhouse was not just a farmhouse. As the little lady started to talk, I learnt that the Arnolds had fled the farmhouse after learning about an incurable illness, caused by the house. In their panic they had left the box behind.
As the years had past, they had gone from fit and well to bedbound to now coughing up blood. Their son had broken in for the box in the hope for an answer to cure his parents. Brian had tried to explain about the curse, but Mr Masters had refused to listen and just aimed his gun. On disarming him he had accidentally shot him and then his son, he then ran.
Phoning Mrs Masters I advised her to leave the Farmhouse immediately and stay with family, it wasn’t safe. Looking at the paperwork in the box I could now see formulas. This was quite ingenious, the box contents told of a curse on the house and the illness borne upon its inhabitants. It also told that the curse is alive when it is snowing and the stories of past pain will be displayed on the windows. The formulas were a guide to the cure. Pulling out my phone again I photographed the formulas. Emailing them to a scientist I know I asked if she could help.
A cure
Months later, the university created a vaccine and a medicine to help anyone affected by Curse-a-poxy. Unfortunately, it was too slow to save the Arnolds, but Mrs Masters and her son were grateful for the vaccine. The Farmhouse is now empty and boarded up. Too many stories and no one wanted to live with the curse. The Farmhouse is now being researched by the university with many questions needing answers, like who invented the curse and why? A sad story made worse by the cold and snow. When it snows it is always cold, The two are an axiom, they don’t need to be proven it is a fact. My daughter loves the snow, for the Masters and the Arnolds it certainly did not bring happiness, just fear and sadness.
Driving home in my old Ford, I know that I need to be grateful for what I’ve got. Maybe if the snow stays, I should get out the sleigh and try and enjoy it with my daughter. As my mobile rings I know duty is calling and a snow day will just have to wait.
Written for Blog Battle Axiomatic
For more see – Blog Battle Creep
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Creeping through the woods
A new find
As the small party were creeping through the quiet wood, they didn’t want to be heard. They wanted to see the wildlife in its natural habitat. Unexplored and uninvited they would be the first. Holding on to each other they knew that one slip or cry could disturb and warn the new habitat.
Woodland
The woodland largely un-investigated, is home to bats and wild birds. They had been observing the animals on cameras but today they had been informed by a casual bird watcher about an unwritten about bird and they needed to see it. It must be photographed and monitored. Their trackers had not picked it up and things had seemed unusually quiet but it’s not often that new discoveries like this was made and Robert Smith was absolutely convinced that this was new.
Fear
Joining the small party he led them, creeping to where he had seen it. What was it? What had he seen? The wood was eerily quiet, there was no bird song and the only noise was being made by the humans. Leading the party, Paul could feel something was very wrong. The familiar feeling of something about to happen, where were the animals? The description of this creature had definitely been a bird. He looked around at his team and he could see they were all thinking the same. Were they safe stood here? Robert seemed more interested in staring at the trees around him, oblivious that things were not as they should be. Nodding to his team member, knowingly, Paul announced that maybe they should be leaving and walk back to the meet point, quietly and calmly.
The Wild
Paul knew that messing with the wild does not always go as expected, In this case they were dealing with reports of a new wild creature and all the other animals appeared to be in hiding. He didn’t want to find out why, or read about it later. He knew that his teams safety was paramount and they needed to get back now. As Robert stubbornly sat down and refused to leave, Paul gave him an ultimatum and then left, creeping again, with his small troop. He was not about to be killed for some insane bird watcher.
Run
After leaving, Paul wondered if his actions had been necessary. Had he seen too many horror films? listening to his crew talking quietly around him, they had all felt it too, something had happened, and they weren’t prepared to find out. As if answering Pauls thoughts there was a sudden crashing on the path behind him and a loud terrified scream. Paul shouted at everyone to jump down the nearby bank. He knew that nothing could be outrun, not out here. Touching his back pack, he found his sleepy gun that he rarely used, but on this occasion, was needed, no one was being eaten today.
Robert
A keen twitcher, Robert wanted to see his find again. He was not leaving until he had photographed it, His name alone would go down in history, a new species, his chance for fame and fortune. Annoyed that the researchers had given up he sat and waited. Hearing something rustling in the bushes he got his camera out. As a rabbit shot out, he felt excited then suddenly terrified. The creature that appeared was not what he thought it was, certainly not just a bird, birds don’t usually chase rabbits.
The bird
No one was expecting what came racing out of the wood, It was certainly new and undiscovered, first Robert and then maybe a cross between a bird and a wolf, whatever it was did not make sense. As the wolf bird jumped at Robert, Paul fired his gun, missing Robert by inches. With the man in his mouth, the animal shook hard as it stumbled and fell to the floor.
Pulling Robert from its jaws, Paul could see his wounds were fatal but what was this new predator? He didn’t want to think about the mechanics of how this monstrosity had come to be, but it was here scaring the wildlife and potentially killing. Phoning for medical help, they needed to get everyone back. Finding two stretchers in his pack they loaded up Robert and the bird. The bird needed to be investigated, a new creation and one certainly mis- reported by the bird watcher.
An Investigation
As Robert left in a flurry of blue lights, the team got the sedated animal to their lab. Important to keep it sedated but also to keep it in a large cage. Looking at the woodland trackers, they could see an increase in activity. Surely there wasn’t just one of these beasts. If so how? Their job was to track where this had come from. Keep themselves alive and deal with the moral question of whether they should they kill it. There was now a man on his way to the hospital and possibly other creatures deceased. Paul knew they would need to put more cameras in the wood. Monstrosities like this were against nature and shouldn’t happen, his job now was to investigate!
Written for Blog Battle – Creep
For more see written for Blog Battle – Provoke
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