Thursday, 31 May 2012

Another swift about turn - straight into the clouds

Yes, I have finished my new play, Dead Funny, and No, I haven't returned to writing Lonely Emily.  It's the lure of the sun, I'm afraid, but I will be starting Emily again soon, with the intention of finishing a first draft by the end of June (always full of good intentions and bad deadlines, that's me!).  But first I had an idea for a short story, which I will print in full here when complete.
In the meanwhile, here's a little snippet. The story is called "I Wish I Could Fly" and it's about - well, probably not what you think it's about...


I Wish I Could Fly

‘I wish I could fly.’
            I look up from the bright black eyes of the tiny little bird in my hands.  Granda sits on his deck chair in the tiny, cold shed, he has his favourite pigeon, King Charlie, in his hands, fat and content and white and grey, and I can’t see his eyes under the perfect white of his flat cap.
            For a minute I’m not sure he has spoken at all.  At our side through chicken wire a dozen pigeon burr and purr filling the air with the warm, dry smell that only smells of pigeons and nothing else at all in the universe.  Outside it is raining, the noise of the drumming rain as loud as if we were standing in it, but Granda’s shed is clean and cold and bone dry.
            Then Granda looks up and smiles, his cat green eyes shining from a brown face that is nothing but wrinkles and scars and teeth as brown as conkers.  He holds up King Charlie, and lets him go.  The big fat pigeon flutters across the little room and lands on its perch with a comfortable shiver.
            ‘Would you fly away, Granda?’ I ask slowly.
            Grandpa lifts his mug of Bovril Plus to his lips.  I don’t know what the Plus is, but it is an amber liquid that made my eyes water when Granda told me to sniff it.  Granda drops it in his Bovril as generously as someone putting cream in their coffee.  Before he drinks he smiles again.
            ‘Where else would I want to be?’ Granda replies.

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