Sunday, 30 October 2011

Bringing it to the Table

Group writing exercise. Take three slips each. Write a different random word on each one. Fold them up. Throw them into a pile and mix them up.

Now pick out a slip. This first slip is the title to your vignette. Pick another. This is your first word. Pick again. This is your last word.

You have ten minutes to produce a story. Go!

My words:



Fly enters through the open patio door. His pixellated vision throws up a homely scene. Lunch has finished. The table is being cleared. Mother takes the plates back to the kitchen. In the next room, Son loads the dishwasher begrudgingly. Fly enters. The kitchen is busy. The extractor fan hums, and Fly feels the distant suction through the room. Before the air channel gets too strong, Fly vacates back through the dining room, looking for crumbs. The table is tidy, void of morsels. But there's a smell of food still in the air; the table was the scene of a big meal moments ago. He follows the scent, past the fireplace that hasn't been used in months, over the recently hoovered carpet, to the shape lying at the edge of the room. It's a man. He's asleep. He snores long and slow. In his hand, there's something made of paper rolled up. The crumbs are at the edge of his mouth, an area wrought with danger and potential infection, but the smell is gooood. Fly can't resist a fly-by. He homes in on the lips, covered in Fly's lunch. Fly lands and eats. It's more than enough. Man's hand moves. The paper is large and heavy and slows Man's reaction. Fly flies away. Man launches the paper into his own head, hard. Fly supposes Man will have two things to expect- indigestion and a bruise.

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