Creative Writing - 30.10.2020

It has been a bit of a struggle this week what with attending a funeral and then my birthday.  I haven't done much writing and instead have been dealing with life admin.  Also, I haven't had much of an appetite to do any writing as I am so mentally tired at the moment.  I think I need some proper time out to do something completely different and nice.

Alas, now it's back to writing. Okay, I was still working my way through the five-minute writer by Margret Geraghty.  There was around four or five exercises to go, but I have skipped through due to time constraints and they were generating ideas type of exercises which I didn't thinki were appropriate for here.

However, sometimes I do free writing from a given prompt.  I have a book called 642 Things to write about.  It a useful tool when you're too tired to think about something to write.

The prompt for this particular piece was: 

An estrangled mother and son who haven't seen or spoken to each other in more than twenty years meetin in line at the post office in December, arms full of packages to be mailed.  What do they say to each other?

I saw him first.  He has lost weight.  I see a wedding ring on his finger and my heart cries, knowing he had the wedding without my input or attendance.  He probably has children too, my grandchildren, that I haven't been around to see growing up. He is walking towards me.  Oh, God, what do I do?

    'Mum?' he says, questioning, with a not sure look on his face. My arms are full of presents that I'm buying for various friends and acquaintances.  I smile back weakly.

    'Yes son, it's me,' I respond.  I want to put down the presents and give him the biggest hug but he looks as though he is in a hurry. And I don't want to in case he recoils in horror from my touch.

    'I would love to stay and catch up but...'

    'You're in a hurry,' I finish his words. 'I understand.'

    'It's Gayle, my wife.  She's waiting in the car because she can't walk very far as she's nearly due.  She's having our first child.'

    'Oh,' I say, remembering that was not the name for his long-term girlfriend at the time. 'I thought you and Katheringe got married?'

   I see him pull an annoyed face, like I've given him some bad medicine: 'Yes, we did marry, but got divorced nearly 10 years ago.  Our two boys, Kieran and James, live with her.  Gayle is expecting a girl.'

    'Okay.' My arms are getting tired and my mind is blown.  I have grandchildren that I don't even know anything about.  I didn't like Katherine at all. I thought she was a nasty piece. Surprised they even got as far as getting married and having children together.

    'Look, mum, give me your number and I'll call you,' he says. I start to recite my number to him, knowing full well that he won't call, but he still inputs the details into his phone.  When he turns to walk away from me, I put the packages down on the floor.  I have no interest in them now.  All I want to do is cry.