Creative Writing - 09.08.2020

I have been focussed on other things the last few days so haven't been in the right sort of mood to write.  

However, everything changed last Wednesday when I attended a London Writers' Cafe creative writing workshop which was hosted by America author Dr Zelda Lockhart PhD, using exercises from her book The Soul Of the Full Length Manuscript.  It was inspiration and really helped me to product some creative output in less than 10 minutes.  I also read out one of my efforts which I hadn't intended to do before the session.  I really hate reading out work.

Please find below two pieces which I produced during the session.

Prompts - my awful feet/we all hate home

We all hate home, especially when I have to return early because my feet are hurting.  The pain shot up my left leg and I was in agony.  I had never felt pain like that.  I didn't want to return home so early as I had been stuck in the house all week and I had taken today off work to go out and get some fresh air.  The pain was unbearable.  It lasted all evening and into the night. I think it was sciatica, but I can't be sure.  It started in my left leg and moved into my bum cheek.  I felt old.  When I was 25, I was never like this.  I was fit as a fiddle.  At that age, I felt like I could never feel any pain. I could fall over blind drunk and I didn't even feel the gravel embedded in my palms or knees. Life was good then, but not now.

Prompt - Garden bench

I look out of my kitchen window at that sorry looking garden bench in my back garden.  I wouldn't even call it a bench because it's peeling and manky and only the cat seems to like it.  I acquired it when I bought this house, over 8 years ago.  It was painted green then by the previous owners.  I think they may have done it to make it look inviting enough for someone, like me, to purchase the house - along with the bench.  They had left me a load of other garden ornaments, along with the bench that I have never sat on.  Those ornaments have included a stone crocodile which was painted in the same shade of green, like the bench.  I remember picking up this heavy crocodile soon after I moved in and then nearly dropped it on my foot.  It broke in half.  Then there was the white painted ornamental poodle with its peeling nose that used to give my friends the heebie jeebies because it used to glow in the moonlight.  That poodle, like the bench, is laying abandoned in the garden.  The next time I get a skip, all that crap is going.  It's time to move on.  No more living with someone else's relics.