track 7

As Ben entered the room, a sea of eyes fell upon him. Nevres fluttered and blood rushed to his cheeks turning them a scarlet red. The familiar strong stench reassuringly rushed throughout his lungs whilst still reminding him why he was thier. It was decision time: Stay and finaly conquer the mountain that had blocked his path for so long or settle at the bottom as he had done for the past 10 years. hands shaking he approach the unfamiliar crowd who were now all fixated on his every move; staring hard as if he was a ghost. The only ghosts present in the room were the suken pale faces of his fellow addicts.

The meeting proceded despite his late arrival with the typical introductions and cheap refreshments (no alcohol).Joe, the leader was aware dealing with recovering alchoholics was lacking any sort of thrill or excitement that the majority of them were accustom to, so he tried a new tactic: retrospection.
Joe: "close you eyes, dont block nothing out. ask yourself why are you here?why?"

* * * *

A teenage boy is walking alone in the streets with a large rucksack, lonely, scared and frightend he squats on a doorway,the cold stone step a chilling reminder he is still alive. He removes his jumper; carefully placing it underneath his head as he settles down for another restless night, his only comfort the bottle of whisky that lies in his pocket.

* * * *

Ben's head rose sharply, like he was viciously awoken from a nightmare to see everyone else was in deep coversation with thier neighbour,except him. Realising this was one reason he didnt want to share he slowly crept out of the building, into the rain lookin for another doorstep to call home.

Inspired by "Track 4"

He's running, his muscles aching, beads of sweat running down his face until they meet and form with the liquid running from his eyes, molding a perfect tear. He keeps on running, through the woods, through the main roads, through the park- He cannot risk stopping. His breathing is now heavy and so are his feet. It's getting hard to keep up the pace, the wind pushing against his face, mocking him, trying to slow him down. Maybe fate is against him.

And she's at home. Waiting for his key in the lock, looking out her window, hoping to see his face. After all, there are so many things left unsaid, so many things that she could have said better. Her bags are packed, her passport in her hand. There are so many things she should take back... She didn't mean the things she said when she lost her temper... Why isn't he calling? She's shivering all over, thinking of his touch... Why doesn't he care? He would be here with her if he did... Glancing at the huge clock on her bedroom wall, she puts on her shoes, slowly, reluctantly. One more hurtful glance at the now half empty flat and she bangs the front door shut.

His heaving chest is about to explode, his legs give in and while his mind is still focused, his body refuses to play along and he stops. The rain is pissing down, as if everything is against him, everything is against him getting to her on time. He decides to screw his plan of catching her at home and starts towards the airport. His phone is soaked but the battery died anyway. The frustration and anger almost lifts him off his feet and again, he's off.

She's getting out of the cab and runs for the airport before the rain soaks through her dress. He's running too, but his throbbing heart is ripping at his chest, begging him to stop, to slow down, but he won't. He knows he's running out of time, he knows he has to speed up in order to get to her, not vice versa. He knows he could be too late. She's walking towards the desk now, reluctantly dragging her feet, looking at her watch, She accepts that he isn't going to come and as if a child giving up her favorite toy, she hands over her passport and boarding pass as a tear forms at the corner of her eye. He's at the entrance now, pushing open the door, he looks all around, about to call out her name when he spots her. He would of ran towards her, would have screamed her name, he would have tried to get through the ticket inspectors to get to her, but his heart sank and he knew his was too late. Maybe fate was against him.

Task 26: MORE Music to Words

Read this VERY carefully. This task is SIMILAR to Task 25 but it is NOT the SAME.

With Task 25, you had to use a piece of music to inspire a narrative - a self-contained extract from a story. Atmosphere, plot, tension etc. were all important, and all had to be extracted from the music itself.

Task 26 is purely DESCRIPTION. Whilst what you write could appear in a much longer piece of fiction, it will work on its own as a single description - of a place, a (fictional) person or an object.

As with the best writing recently, I am looking for description which:

• makes creative but careful use of sonic devices such as rhyme and alliteration
• embraces the potential of figurative language (similes and metaphors) and personification to bring an image to life
• avoids cliche and pursues originality - of lexis (vocabulary) and syntax (sentence structure)
• is structured carefully and consistently, with a clear opening and a deliberate finish

I will post an exemplar shortly.

As before, please listen carefully (and several times) to ALL 10 extracts - before you select the one which most powerfully makes you imagine the person/place/thing you will describe.

You can LISTEN to all this week's tracks here. Alternatively, once you have chosen one, I can email it to you directly so you can listen to it wherever and whenever you like - so just ask! :)

The deadline for this task - and this is NOT negotiable - is midnight on Saturday 7th June.

Good luck!

Track 2

She's still. Cocooned in a porcelain paradise. Peaceful; at least she seems. Wires invade her angelic body, tubes tear through her throat. Life support machines are the only thing you hear; robots pumping her blood, pumps inflating her lungs. The room so sterile and white yet she feels infected and suppressed by fear.

She's hurt. Morphine cannot erase her pain. They're footsteps outside her room, nurses, doctors, family and friends. All going places but neglect her room. Still holding onto life but already forgotten.

She's stuck. Limbo never seemed so sad. In a trance of apocalyptic thoughts, she's screaming inside by no-one can hear her. She's stuck in a place far worse than hell. A place where feelings have no meaning, no love, no happiness, not even pain. She's reaching out for help,hope, happiness. Reaching recklessly for a helping hand. There's nothing.

Inspiration By Track 2

Her face looking as fragile as glass. Her hair glimmered as it reflected the sunshine from the window as she lay there asleep, and all I could do was sit there. Watching her. Waiting for the moment she would wake up and call for me. Call for her mummy.

My heart would rip more and more with every minute she was asleep. Every minute seemed to be like hours. Hours like days. It seemed like it had been a lifetime ago since I last heard her voice. A lifetime ago since I had looked into her bright blue eyes. A lifetime ago since I had cuddled my baby girl.

Instead of hearing my baby's voice, all I could hear were the machines. The machines that were keeping my daughter breathing. The sound would echo around the room. Then another noise joined in. A tap of footsteps. I knew who was coming. I knew why they were coming. Yet I could not take my eyes of her, in case she did wake. I couldn't turn around and look at the doctor who was coming to ask the same question as he had been doing every hour, all day. He wanted to switch them off. He wanted to switch the machines off. He wanted to let her go.

Every time he came I knew I should let her go. She was never going to wake up. She was never going to speak to me again. But each time, I said no. Each time, I let my heart take over instead of my brain. I desired with all my heart for her to wake again. This part of me kept those machines switched on, but this time when he approached me and put his hand on my shoulder. I knew what I ha to do, to keep my baby happy, I agreed. I said yes. I knew in my mind I had to let my baby go. She was never going to come back to me . She was always going to stay on the machines. And there was nothing I could do about it.

Then the room went quiet. I knew it. My baby was gone.

Inspired by Track 2

As I surveyed the blade, I did feel a detachment from what I had done. You would call it a cruel detachment.

If you ignored the panicked helplessness in his eyes, if you couldn’t hear his screams or watch his frantic efforts to release himself from my prison; you too would have found it funny. Maybe. Like an animal caught in barbed wire funny or throwing a cat out a window funny. Do you know what I mean?

You say I am incapable of emotion.

But when I killed your husband I felt emotion. A whole lot of emotion. Too much emotion. And really, it was my emotion that killed him, and so I guess now I’ve proved myself?

I wonder what you will say when you see him…will you scream? Don’t scream, it’s too noisy and…unnecessary. Maybe you’ll laugh too? I laughed a lot. (Remember when we laughed together?)

I hope you find him soon, bodies are not pleasant when rigor mortis sets in. It’s a bit of a shock really, seeing something so alive so…dead. Less of a shock if you watch it happening though… in any case, I’ll be here when you come.

I wouldn’t miss your face for anything in the world.

track 2 - Not so void

Both sides of the road are lined with row after row of sickeningly perfect houses with identical hedges flawlessly trimmed out-front. It's at that hour in time when it is neither day nor night and she asks herself, “is the sun setting or is the moon rising?”
The slight chill of autumn permeates her little red anorak, and she pulls it tightly against her small frame hoping that it will shield her from the harsh reality of life.

She stares at her black patent leather shoes as a lone teardrop bounces off their shiny surface, and in that single moment she is reminded of how alone she is.
This realisation reverberates through her like the echo of crashing cymbals; numbing all emotion, slowly anaesthetising all feeling.
Her mind is at war with her heart and she struggles to decide who is right. Logic tells her to face the truth and move on; instinct tells her to run and hide.

As she approaches the cemetery, red autumn leaves begin to mournfully float down around her, as if to console and prepare her for the burial.
Dejected familiar figures clothed in black give way, allowing her to pay her final respects. And as they lower her mother’s casket eight feet into the earth, a cool soothing breeze drifts by, assuring her that although things weren’t going to be easy, they would somehow be ok.

Track 1- Concious

I awoke to the suddenly cooling saliva on my left hand that had slowly drooled out over the last few slumbering hours. The air clung to my skin forming a kind of Clingfilm over my body, making it ever more apparent that I needed a drink. I started my journey from the chemists’ porch, where I had slept, to the off license fifty yards up the road. The occasional pitiful look was only worsened by the looks of scowling city men, their disapproving glances burning guilt-ridden blisters my back. The only kick I could get out of the experience was the knowledge that as soon as they had gotten off work and had three scotch whiskies on the train back to Suburbia, they would neglect their children and ceremoniously spiral into a nightmare of sky sports, question time and whatever gritty Scottish detective drama ITV had to offer. I knew this reality was false, I knew that ultimately they were probably kind people that went home and loved there families, I knew that really, money could buy you happiness. However all of this was part of the experience of homelessness, part of the method author technique, and part of the test of will that would ultimately culminate in my most successful book to date. It may well have been worth it, if i didn't pass out on the off license floor, moments after buying my six-pack of polish lager.

Track 5, Shoot Out

He landed steadily, comfortably and without a sound. The parachute folded easily back into its bag and he left it there next to the wall behind a large metal crate. Footsteps in the distance were getting quickly closer and without any hesitation he was in the shadows once again. The door was close by just up the corridor near 20 yards.

Suddenly a stampede of hooves at high speed. This was his chance. The unicorns came to a halt outside the Large Sky Fortress's only entrance. Once it was opened Alex lashed out from the shadows and down the corridor at full speed, he wasn't going to make it. The gate was near closing, he jumped head first. Everything seemed slow motion, it was now or never as soon as the gate slammed down, the lasers were out.

The first few shots were easy, he always had an eagle eye. He spun on his heals and slid across the floor on his side fingers at a ready. As soon as the next few targets were in sight it didn't take him long to take them out too. The next lot came running from the right, with heavy armor and machine lasers. Alex knew there was no where to run but up, it took him one nano grenade to take out the front line of the soldiers and one smoke bomb for him to quickly climb up into an air vent.

number 9, track 1

23;59, 8th September 1809, Le Beignon, France.

I woke up in a cold sweat. My ears pricked. Pitter-patter. T'was raining. Clap's of thunder. Twas pouring. A storm to welcome the new day. 00;00. And that's when I heard her. She was faint-sounding at first, I thought it was a dog outside. A dog howling. But a dog's cries did not sound as sharp as this. I thought it was a girl outside. A little french girl seeking refuge under our porch, away from the rain. What kind of parents would let their baby wonder the village at night like this? Come to think of it, her cries are too deep. Obviously not a mans. Her voice was not broken, but her cries were. Painful, empty, sorrowful cries. She was not on the porch, she was in the house! Downstairs, in the living room. An open space filled with little more than an old bookshelf and a sofa. What was she doing down there? Had I left the front door unlocked? No, that's not at all like me. The crying. It was getting louder. I could vividly hear it now. Not echoey. In fact, right near me. She was in the corner of the room! I could not see a thing, apart from when the lightning bolts provided glimses of a shadow.

"bonjour madame. Sont bien vous ? Quelle heure vous l'appelez-vous pour me déranger de mon sommeil avec votre cri ? Arrêtez-vous s'il vous plaît! Arrêtez-vous en ce moment! bonne nuit!"

The crying stopped. All was silent. It was dark. Even the clouds must have heard this commotion because they put a stop to the thunder and rain.

Suddenly footsteps! Stomping, angry, outraged footsteps running towards me. Almost touching, bumping into my bedside. I can hear her loud and clear - "Pisse de!" and then she laughed a victorious laugh and ran downstairs...

Track 2: Heartbeat

My body lowered itself deep into the heartlessness of the cold sea. I could feel my heartbeat: dee dum dee dum dee dum. A simultaneous beating of my heart with an iambic pentameter. I was getting deeper and deeper into the water. Down. Down. Down DOWN. I knew I was beginning to lose conciousness the minute my eyes wouldn't keep away. They wanted to sleep. They wanted ME to sleep. Fond memories played about in my head like broken records; mere reminicsenses of my life in pieces; different stages perhaps. Like the time daddy would take me to the park, engaging in our little picnics. Or mother and father both telling me how proud they were of my greatest achievements in life. These flashbacks were so self consumed in my head I didn't know what to focus on. My good times or the fact that I was still unconcious in the freezing water. I smiled inside my head just thinking about my childhood experiences. I wonder what daddy would've done if he knew about this near death experience I was in now. He would've jumped and gone in for me. Daddy's little girl. I wonder where daddy is now. I miss him ever so much. I'm just wishing I'd wake up. I can feel myself rising to the top of the surface now. That's it. My eyes are live.

Track 2-My Music Box

With him everything seemed fine, even though it wasn’t everything seemed it.

My life wasn’t easy, it wasn’t easy at all. Everyone doubted me from the beginning, ever since primary school people said that I was different, my goals were not the same. Then secondary school started it got worse I got thrills in weird ways I didn’t mix with any crowds I was just my own person Then I started college that’s when I realized everyone was right, I wasn’t normal I liked different things to everyone else, I wanted different things to everyone else I was just different to everyone else fall stop.

So here I am 3 years later walking through a dark ally with nothing more then a belt round my waist, and a ragged bra on. I’m feeling alone as always, scared but I’ll cope, I always do. I know what’s gonna happen next, it happens every night, I’ll turn this corner then I’ll see them as usual. They’ll all try to touch me, fantasising about what’s under my belt. I’m supposed to feel safe because of these people around me! But I don’t feel safe I just feel alone.

But I’ll keep on walking for the sake of getting home to him! I turn the corner and the hungry hands start pawing at me, I can’t do it anymore but it’s so much easier to carry on and forget this happened again then to push them away. I really do wonder what they think gives them a right to do this to me though, am I not a human just like them I might be a superstar that has more then 10 platinum singles but I’m still human. The bodyguards, the fans, the clothes I don’t need them all I need is him to make me whole to make me happy. When I’m with him I don’t feel alone I feel me.

So I kept on walking with a big fake smile across my face trying to accept what they were supposedly giving me, love, but that’s not how I feel I don’t feel loved just used. That will change when I get there though, once I get there I’ll see it I’ll feel him. Because it’s all in my music box he is in my music box that little plastic figurine that sings and turns perfectly in time to my heartbeat, he’s perfect, something that everyone strives to be but never gets but he does it and because of that I need him because with him everything seems fine and that’s how I need to feel.

Track 4; Chase

Pelting through the city with no thoughts of turning around, Mathewson knew that his only hope was to lose them. Sirens echoed far too closely behind him, reminding him of what was at stake here. With his shoulder crying out in agony and his breathing becoming ever heavier, he knew he could not last any longer. The gem was his until he got to T, he would make sure of that.

The stares of passers-by were only in disregard. He knew that citizens of Washington saw a chase everyday, but did they know what the secret under his jacket could bring down? Sidewalks were becoming crowded. Like a real professional Mathewson bounded into the mounds of ties and briefcases, getting lost in the sea of rush hour. James Bond knew nothing. Extravaganzas about guns and girls was not the truth, but a way the media could make money. Mathewson knew the media will be all over this. Running out of Pennyville tower in broad daylight was too big of a mistake. It was stupid of him, he knew. A lecture or two would be waiting for Mathewson.

Looking behind him for the first time, he could not see pass the hundreds of bobbing heads. But flicking an eye across the street gave him all that he needed to know. They could see him. Police officers and armed men were sprinting in his direction pointing and shouting orders. A wall was slowly enclosing itself around Mathewson. He had to find a way out, fast. Now the shouting had begun the cover of the hustle and bustle slowly began to split itself. Sounds of running feet and shuffling opened up a gap in the sidewalk. Mathewson muttered a quick “Shit.” And sprinted around the corner and down Millwalk Avenue.

It was a small avenue, the sound of music travelled through the air, notifying him of the open back door of Fever Club. Flashing disco lights and pounding music added to the never-ending headache that ripped through Mathewson’s head. Neon lights shuffled his thoughts bringing him onto the dance floor full of skimpy legs and waving arms. It was only then that he let his jacket fall open, allowing the brown envelope to escape onto the filthy floor. It was only then that the screaming and shoving melted away into a dark realm, seeing as the bullet had taken on its full effect.

Task 25 Track 5

Lost in the middle of no where. I’m moving but everything seems be to still. Where I am going? I see them and I just stand there to watch them run wild, run free. As if they have no care at all. The feeling that was running through my veins was unbelievable; I had a new meaning to life. I felt a change in my body. Suddenly I felt myself getting weak and I really couldn’t control it. I felt myself falling to the ground. I called out for help yet no answer, there was no life around. Last thing I can remember is the sound of the horses in the distance.

I woke up, there he was standing. He left the others and came back to me. He was looking great but in his eyes; I could see he was worried about something. I got up and stroke him on his back; he always used to like it when I did that. For some odd reason he moved away from me this time. I didn’t really know why he was behaving like this or maybe he wanted to show me something. He looked at me then into the distance, on the right of me. I slowly started to walk towards the place he was looking at. Still to me it didn’t seem like there was anything there. Emptiness surrounded us like a spider’s web; I didn't really know where we were headed to.

I think we were walking towards north but I had no idea. We’ve been walking for hours and hours and it started to get dark, we both needed to rest for a while. I sat down, looking around like a helpless child though he was strong even to just stand there. I started to feel that same pain as before and I got weaker and weaker. My head was spinning like I was in some kind of fun fair ride, I was in need of water or maybe even a fizzy drink so that my energy level stays high. The pain was unbearable, couldn’t fight it, I try to put my hands over my head to make it stop. I was turning and turning; trying to find a good position to be in. That wasn’t helping and sooner or later I found myself lying on the ground.

Track 5 The widow

The deed is done. I never knew it would be this easy. All I had to do was take off my clothes and there he was, at my feet. Did he really think I was that stupid?

Two years on and he thought that I would forget. Two years ago he made me a widow. He let onto the authority that I was an unfit mother, he took away my baby;the only thing I could remember my husband by and he took it away, I wasn’t going to let him get away with it. He ruined my life.

It was my birthday. The day started off wonderfully. Sun shining on my skin, my husband, Harvey next to me; he made me breakfast in bed. I remember his touch when he was holding me against his body, his strong body, lovely skin and his fragrance. He held me up close to him and fed me; I felt as if I was in heaven. It took an hour for me to finish my breakfast; I didn’t want it to end. After that I don’t know what happened, I was mesmerised, enchanted. All I can say is that we became one, there and then. This was our new start; we were going to make a family. I didn’t want this moment to end.

I was fine the way we were but he wanted everything to be perfect. He bought me a present but because he knew I would find it somewhere in the house he left it at his friends and so he went to get it. I begged him to stay, I didn’t want a present I was already content. He wasn’t, he wanted to make this day even more special and so he went to get my present, and he never came back.

I wonder how long it will take for the neighbours to realise. He stank when he was alive so I don’t know about know. He stank of jealousy. Of hatred. You could see it in his eyes. I thought I was just seeing things, more fool me but it was true. He didn’t like our relationship. He wanted it to end.

I wonder what he felt. Having me all to himself. For the first and the last . That was the last time he would feel anyone so close to him. He will never love or be loved again.

I hope he doesn’t ever rest in peace, I hope he rots away in hell and pays for his sins.

An Exemplar: Track 2

I know some of you have been struggling with this task. I chose Track 2, and put it on my headphones really loud on a continuous loop with my eyes closed until I found myself imagining a scenario, a location, the germ of a story. The music took me somewhere, and I found the story unravelling in my imagination, and all I then had to do was write it down.

I had considered Track 9, whilst listening to which I could see a father and daughter in small sailing boat, gliding wordlessly across an azure sheet of water. Then I considered Track 8, and could picture a teenage girl, surrounded by rough, dangerous-looking boys, under a bridge on the canalside, as she takes a tablet foisted on her by one of them. But, in the end, it had to be Track 2 for me...

The ward was white – everything bleach bloodless: the air a pallid sheet, the tiny, plastic beds like cocoons, and the nurses floating around like so many ghosts. He hadn’t been able to go in at first: all he had heard outside were the screams Maggie had made before the blood fled her body, like rats from a sunken ship, screams which played a violent loop in his mind, almost accusatory in their anger, the panic and the pain demanding some relief. But he had been able to provide none. A better man might have managed to rescue her – or so he told himself – but the truth was far more final.

He could not recall the silence before the screams; and then he had suddenly remembered how Maggie had used to talk about hiccups or mouth ulcers or itching sunburn: she used to say that, when any of these things struck, it quickly became impossible to remember what life was like without them, even moments before. Briefly riding the wave of this trivial memory, he had pushed the doors and drifted into the ward.

And now, stood here statuesque in his stillness, he could no longer hear the screams. They had been wiped away like the blood which had caked the baby’s body. All he could hear was the gentle, fragile gasp of the respirator, as the baby’s chest shivered each exigent breath. But, stark amid this sea of white, a smudge of colour was appearing on her cheeks, and he knew, beyond contradiction or danger, that she was going to be all right. Together, in perfect harmony, they both exhaled.

track 4: freedom

So there I was. Running free. To where? To be honest, I didn’t know. All I did know is that the past was the past and I wasn’t going to let it intervene.

It all started back in ’85 when I was found guilty on charges of murder, I was sent down for life. Hell I‘d like to say I didn’t do it, but I can’t, I’m as guilty as a man can be.

I remember the night of the crime like it’s stored in some sort of filing cabinet in my brain, I took that knife and sliced that sad son of a bitch up until he looked like he had just walked through an abattoir, some people say I’m proud of what I did and to be honest I probably was until age takes its toll and all of a sudden you get sectioned under the 60+ part of the prison. That’s when I realised ‘an old fool like me can’t keep this up much longer’.

I remember when people used to apply for an early release, me and some of the guys used to line up outside and jeer at the rejects. I knew my position on the prison hierarchy would be demolished as soon as I even so much as stepped into that office. To make matters worse the prison only handled a few cases a month out of nearly a thousand so I had my work cut out, even to be considered.

3:30am, July 27th, 1999. Probably one of the happiest days of my life but at the same time one of the saddest. Since I was leaving. Yup, all 66 years 264 days and 3 hours of me. One thing you should’ve known about me however is I never followed rules. Takes a dumbass not to realise that when you’re in prison. I wasn’t leaving through the front gate with my 20-year-old leather suitcase in one hand and a pack of smokes in the other. Oh no, that was way too modest. I was leaving in what everybody else had left behind. I crawled just shy of a mile through foul smelling shit, in the prisons sewer system. You’re right. I did hate every moment of it but through the thick stench of my immediate surroundings I could smell something I hadn’t smelt for fourteen years. Freedom. On that chilly July morning I emerged, not exactly clean of sins or sanity but nether the less. A free man.

So there I was. Running free. To where? To be honest, I didn’t know. All I did know is that the past was the past and I wasn’t going to let it intervene.

Task 23-Grumpy & Rumplestilskin

[Dopey is at a computer in the internet cafe in Fairyland Prison talking on MSN to Rumplestilskin who is in Fairyland state prison in his intenet cafe]

D: Wow! Rumple wat u in 4?
R: Nothin really! Kidnapping a child, child manual labour den i kidnapped her child. Peanuts really! I wuld never xpect u 2 be in here! Wat u in 4?
D: Da fairy police got a bit suspicious about a woman living with seven dwarfs! Apparently it's not normal!
R: OMG! Dey judge our lives like they live them themselves, da cheeck of them! 2 b honest I dont think its our crimes that we've been arrested 4 i think its something a lot more prejudice!
D: Wat!!!!????
R: R u tellin me you havent noticed! All da 7 dwarfs in ere, me, pinocchio, little bear, Jack! R u seriously not seein da pattern!
D: No im not really but i can feel its gonna b a great point!
R: We've all got 1 thing in common... Our height! We're all short! thats why we're really in here! you saw what Prince Charming done to Shrek & Fiona why aint he in ere! I'll tell u y its cause he's an average aint he!
D: I never really thought of it like that! OMG we should complain!
R: They'll never listen we should break OUT!
D: R u mad! They've got Fairy shooters just waitin 4 1 of us 2 pull dat stunt!
R: O come on wat can b worse den here!
D: DEAD!!!
R: They cant kill us! How would da children take that hey!!!
D: Tru!!! Fine wats da plan!!!???

R: Well we're gonna hav 2 go out da bak aint we! less guards dat way! U bring rope, a shouvel & urself and i'll bring da rest!

D: Alrite den wer we meetin & wen!!!

R: Half 10 outside the ca-

(Prison guard cuts of the internet connection the screens all go black)

Rumplestilskin: (Talks to himself) O bloody brilliant, dats happy, sleepy and grumpy off my list 4 left to try!!!

Rush: Track 1

(Jeremy a young pianist around the age of 20 is getting ready for an all night performance at the Bingo Gala, it is empty at the moment but as the hours pass the players flock in barbarically. He feels nervous and starts to shiver violently but the Call-out, who seems around the age of 40, hands him some medicine which he claims help him all the time.)

Jeremy: (Shivers Violently from head to toe whilst clenching his arms in a defensive position) OH MY GOD, MY FIRST EVER SHOW! I’D BETTER NOT MUCK THIS UP.

Call-out: (Stands in a complete contrasting stance to Jeremy with his hands folded gently, his arms folded, and he himself leaning on the curtains with his eyes closed.) Ah don’t sweat it kid, I know how you feel now, I remember my first day as well, so much happened that I…errrrm… (the Call-out changes now to a defensive stance embarrassed of the “incident” that had happened to him).

( Jeremy stares at the Call-out in an oblivious manner but soon returns back to his fragile minded state).

(Call-out walks towards Jeremy)

Call-out: Eh Kid, Take it easy. It all gets better in the end.
If you want I can help you “ease” the pain.

Jeremy: W-W-W-Whh-What D-D-Did you have in mind?

Call-Out: Well Kid, in my day we use to have this thing called… Mini-shots.
They’re guaranteed to “KICK” the old jitters if you know what I mean.

Jeremy: W-W-What D-Do TH-TH-THEY do?

Call-out: Listen kid, I’m a busy dealer... I-I-I Mean wheeler…yeah wheeler, I ain’t got time to be goofin’ around with you here. So either take the “shots” and have a great performance or leave them and spend the night a failing disaster.

Jeremy: Well… I do need quite a lot of help right now, and I can’t play at all with my fingers shivering like this…

Call-out: Yeah so…?

Jeremy: All right…How much to make me confident?

Call-out: It’s Cheap, only $50.

( Jeremy seems sceptical at first but eventually hands over the money)

( 2 hours later the time of the all night performance)
( Jeremy has taken the “ Shots” and he is now much more confident and Raring to go, his body has stopped shivering and things seem to look up for the young pianist).

Call-out: And please welcome our new performer, keep in mind he’s only 20 or so ladies and gentlemen, Jeremy Baker!

(The Audience applaud Jeremy as he strolls out from backstage with a smug look on his face)

(Jeremy struts towards the piano in his penguin tux, and starts to play melancholy music from Amadeus Mozart himself.)

Call-out: Number 9! Number 9! Anybody have a number 9! Number 9! Number 9!
Number 9! Number 9! Number 9! Anybody for a number 9!

( There is no answer from the audience, only a few disheartened grunts)

Maggy: OOO AHH, this young lad’s got potential Meera, I think we should watch out for this one in the future.

Meera: I think so too. Good going young man!

(Jeremy smirks confidently)

Jeremy: Ladies, Ladies, there’s really nothing to it.

( 2 hours later and the “shots” start to kick in and Jeremy’s piano skills deteriorate distinctively)

( Speech is also Slurred)

Jeremy: W-wharrsh gooooing ooooonn?!

Call-out: HAH this is where the performance really starts.

Jeremy: wharshh thisshhh finggsshh?

Maggy: Oh dear Meera I think I might have been wrong about our young lad here aren’t I?

Jeremy: whaarsh?

( As Jeremy tries to regain concentration he notices that the world surrounding him seems to be moving at a much faster rate than he is and so tries desperately to concentrate)

Jeremy: Shhhlowwww Down
( Although it was a valiant effort it was to be to no avail)

Jeremy: ARGHHH!!! Arhg!

Call-out: Whoo!!! It’s getting’ started!!!

(eventually the world moves to fast for Jeremy to follow and he eventually trembles to the floor).

Room in New York...

(Jane sits by the piano tenderly touching the keys...John sits reading his newspaper avoiding eye contact with Jane...All is quiet...so quiet you can hear a pin drop.)

Jane : (Looks up from piano) John I can't go on like this... This is a bloody mess. We don't even talk anymore... what kind of relationship is this?

John: (Looks away from his newspaper) Jane we are fine. You're being paranoid.

Jane: No I'm not. When was the last time we have been out together? It's not right John, it's just not.

John: Well... How can I make it right? I offer you tickets to the ballet, you refuse. I offer you tickets to see the opera, you refuse. What more can I do?

Jane: You see we are falling apart...has it ever crossed your mind that maybe, juat maybe I do not like the opera or ballet?

John: Well what do you like then?

Jane: I liked Elvis Presley, but as you know we can't see him anymore, however, I am fond of that new girl, the myspace freak , who is she?

John: Oh you mean Illy Lallen?

Jane: Yes that's the one. Illy Lallen. Brilliant.

John: Well... If you want we can book a weekend in London to see her?

Jane: Oh I'd love that! See now you're getting into it! (she walks over to John and kisses him.)

John: Right, well... I'll book the tickets now then, shall I? (He walks over to the computer, then eagerly researches Illy Lallen tickets)

John: Perfectomondo! all done! Right next saturday - 11 o' clock at the Winchester theatre, London.

(cuts to them at the theatre)(A well-built woman stands in front of the crowd and bursts into song... Only It's an opera!)

Jane: You did get the right tickets, didn't you?

John: Yes. Your looking at her. (Points at the woman) I give you Illy Lallen!!!

Summer Evening

(boy (17) and girl (16) both are standing outside on the girls balcony)

girl : (staring longingly into the boys eyes) thank you for walking me home tonight , I had such a wonderful time,

boy: Oh your welcome, I couldn't just let you walk home on your own could I, it is getting rather dark, and no one knows who's lurking the streets these days.

girl: I suppose ... (awkward silence as they both think of what to say)

girl and boy : urmm

boy: (apologetically) oh, sorry you go on,

girl: (staring at the stars dreamily) I had a wonderful time tonight...

boy: I must admit, I had a better time than I thought I would have.

girl:(confusion shown in her face) Thanks......I think.

boy: actually, it was the best time in my life I've ever had, I mean all my other dates, we've gone for dinner, or to the cinema, never before have I been to the fun fair.

girl: well, I'm not just an ordinary girl, I'm the sort of girl who loves to have all the fun,

boy: Well, everybody knows that

girl: Am I meant to be offended by that?

boy: (apologetically) no, no, no of course not, i just meant that you can really notice it, in the way you talk, the way you act, i mean you can really notice it, in whatever you do.

girl: Well then I must say thank you, now I'm really sorry, I have to get in, my parents will kill me

boy: (looking worried) Oh I hope I haven't gotten you into too much trouble,

girl: (reassuringly) no, don't worry, my parents are just really overprotective of me.

boy: oh okay, well I hope you enjoyed yourself

girl: Oh yes, it was wonderful

boy:Maybe we could do it again some time.

girl: (moving closer towards him) Yeah, sure i would love too.

boy: (stepping forward) What about next week?

(both lean in to share a kiss, when the sound of a voice arises from inside the house)

Voice : (shouting) Elizabeth Mary, Is that you, if it is you're over an hour late, your father is going mad with worry, get in here right now.

Girl: Oh coming mother. (looks at the boy) I'm sorry. I have to go. Next week is perfect. Can't wait. Goodbye.(Rushing through the front door)

Boy: (as the front door slams in his face, he stands looking rather shocked) Bye......

 

(Boy left standing on the balcony,  on his own, rather bewildered about what has just happened)

Room in New York

Clarence: Penelope?

Penelope: hmmm?

Clarence: I’ve been meaning to ask you this for some time now…

Penelope: (gulps deeply and refuses to look him in the eye) wh-what?

Faces her and Gets down on one knee pulling out a small velvet box from his pocket

Clarence: Will you do me the honour of making me the happiest man alive by becoming my wife?

Penelope’s eyes widen in shock as she physically recoils

Penelope: clearance, please don’t do this

Clarence: why not? I’ve never felt this way about anybody before; you make me so happy-

Penelope: it wasn’t suppose to happen like this, I -

Clarence: Is it that you need more time? Because I can wait

Penelope: No it’s just... You were the only one I had left and-

Clarence: I know, the fact that we both lost all of our family members proves that we’re supposed to be together… don’t you love me?

Penelope: I-I do, but there’s something you should know abo-

Clarence: then what’s the problem? Do you want me to-

Penelope: Listen! I can’t marry you because I’m your cousin! (Begins to sob)

(Pause)

Clarence: n-no, this can’t be happening, we-

Penelope: the day we met I knew that I had finally found you, I just wanted to get to know you a little better; I had no one to turn to

Clarence: but we… and we…

Penelope: Clarence I’m so sorry

Clarence walks to the window and sits precariously on the ledge

Penelope: (walks slowly towards him) I didn’t mean for this to happen

Penelope tries to take his hand

Clarence: don’t touch me! (Clarence violently snatches his hand back and in doing so he falls to his death)

Task 25: From Music to Words

Back to prose fiction again this week - but congratulations on a fantastic set of drama tasks; you really have excelled in that particular form.

Sometimes, when it is difficult to find the MUSE, a writer needs to seek a specific source of inspiration in order to unblock the creative process and get the ideas flowing again. That inspiration might come from something visual - a photo, a painting, a piece of architecture, for example; it might come from a memory - accidentally triggered or deliberately recalled; it might even come from some other sort of sensual trigger - a smell, perhaps, or even a particular taste.

But, this week, I would like us to explore how we can use music to provide the inspiration for a piece of creative writing. I would like you to follow these instructions very carefully indeed:

1. Find somewhere quiet and, if possible, dark (or, at the very least, close or cover your eyes)
2. Listen to each of the pieces I have emailed you all today in turn ONCE
3. Now listen to each of them a second time, but with your eyes open and pen and paper in your hands
4. While you listen, you should try to describe, in rough notes, what you 'see' in your mind when you hear it. Do you picture a particular place? Is something happening? Who exactly is involved?
5. Now choose which of the pieces of music provided you with the most vivid and interesting pictures. Which one gave you material which would be easiest to turn into the beginning of a short story?
6. Once you have selected your piece of music, listen to it several times more, making notes all the time until you have lots of material with which to work.
7. Now use those notes to write the first few paragraphs of a short story, inspired by the music you have chosen.

As with any creative writing task, I am looking for:

• how ORIGINAL it is (so avoid cliche, melodrama or, indeed, anything derivative)
• how ENGAGING it is (from the outset and throughout)
• how ADEPT it is (i.e. how cleverly and deliberately and diversely does it use the tools of language and punctuation of which you need to become master)
• how CREATIVE it is (e.g. you do not have to take the piece of music LITERALLY, just let it set fire to your imagination, or act as a catalyst to the chemicals of the right side of your brain)
  

You should write between 250-400 words.

Good luck!

The deadline is midnight on Sunday 18th May. PLEASE don't miss the deadline! :(

P.S. I will attempt the task myself over the next couple of days...

Room in New York

Edward: You ever thought about the finer things in life honey? (turns to look at his wife whilst putting down his newspaper on the table)
Sarah: Like what darling? What type of gravy we're going to be using tonight for dinner? Don't you worry though, I'm sure we have plenty in the fridge. (smiles and is about to leave the room to enter the kitchen before she is stopped)
Edward: No no, just wait. Like I'm talking about another mouth to feed, someone to be there for, someone that can make our family complete.
Sarah: Edward...
Edward: I want a child Sarah. You know I do. Don't you think that's really what we need. If we had one we wouldn't even HAVE gravy to be worrying about (laughs)
Sarah: Yes but darling...
Edward: We could even convert the guest room as a nursery and paint it whatever colour the child was into...
Sarah: Honey...
Edward: Wouldn't thay be marvelous. And what about the NAME first off? (an ear to ear smile)
Sarah: Look...
Edward: For a boy maybe, Thomas, Daniel... (dreamily smiles)
Sarah: Edward!
Edward: Roger? I don't know how about...
Sarah: EDWARD!
Edward: Toby? (looking puzzled)
Sarah: EDWARD WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME! (frustrated and angry looking look on face)
Edward: (looking slighty annoyed) OK, OK. If the names were that appauling then so be it. No need to get all whiney over it. What name would YOU like honey?
Sarah: I DON'T CARE ABOUT NO BLEEDING BABY NAMES BECAUSE THERE ISN'T GOING TO BE A DAMN BABY... EVER! (stands up edgiing away from the piano, a slight tear in her eye)
Edward: What? I mean I thought it was what me and you wanted a family shortly after we got married... (looking down at the carpet and puzzled again, slighty hurt)
Sarah: I know. So did I. (sits back down again in silence staring into space)
Edward: (stands up and goes over to the window) So whats changed huh? One minute you do the next you dont whats wrong with you? (turns around to look at her and screams) WHY DON'T YOU WANT CHILDREN SARAH?
Sarah: BECAUSE I CANT HAVE ANY CHILDREN!! (breaks down into tears)

cape cod evening

(A man and his wife sit in the veranda and silently watch their pet dog Fluffy.)

Harry: can’t believe it’s almost time.
Jill: please Harry, can we not go through this again
Harry: so when do you propose we go through this because as you well know the clock is ticking.
Jill: I don’t propose we go through this at all; I’ve made my decision, end of story.
Harry: so what I don’t get a say, despite the fact I’ve helped build its life.
Jill: it’s not yours you didn’t want him in the first place.
Harry: well he’s been here for 13 weeks now and I already feel like he is a part of the family.
Jill: we move house, acquire a little something on the way and your saying IT’s a part of the family?
Harry: that’s exactly what I’m saying. Just because he can’t tell us how he feels doesn’t give you the right to slaughter him.
Jill: Oh shut up Harry! You and I both know we can’t cope.
Harry: no we don’t because we haven’t even tried.
Jill: (attempts to respond. But stops)
Jill: its getting dark I think we should bring him in now.
Harry: let him savour the last bits of sunlight
Jill: no. (shouts) Fluffy…time for dinner! (Jill heads towards the house with fluffy following close behind her)
Harry: goodnight Fluffy! (Dog barks and exits beside Jill leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.)
Harry: that’s the last I’ll ever see of him: my unborn son. The abortions tomorrow then I guess that’s that (heads off towards the house)Harry: goodnight Flynn, miss you already (a single tear falls from his face)

cape cod evening.

(A man and woman are by the door of their new house. They’ve lived there for a month, although there are dark secrets hidden deep below the surface.)

Bill: god, I miss Detroit.

Donna: yes, well Detroit is a distant memory now.

Bill: sometimes, I don’t want it to be though, even with all the technicalities. I mean, it was home.

Donna: and this isn't?

Bill: of course it is but, the soul, the history, the atmosphere. It’s all gone.

Donna: yes, well you know very well why we had to move.

Bill: (Angered) don’t you get it? It’s all gone. Gone and its never coming back.

Donna: well it’s not my fault you chose to spend your nights ‘at work’. I would of thought ‘work’ doesn’t usually come with a ransom.

Bill: well they don’t call it ‘white gold’ for nothing you know. That same ‘white gold’ bought us this very house!

Donna: funny isn't it. I spent 75% of my day busting my ass off and I still only earned half you did.

Bill: what do you mean?

(Donna smiles sarcastically)

Donna: oh, and I bet you’ve had you’re fair share of violence. The odd dickhead who ‘will get you the money tomorrow’ instead he didn’t see tomorrow because his life had already ended.

Bill: and you expect me to disagree? I can’t say that didn’t happen. People take you for a fool if you let those things happen and before you know it you’re on the receiving end!

Donna: so is that how we ended up here then? So you didn’t get maimed? So I didn’t end up with your corpse in my bin one day?

Bill: well what do you want me to say!

Donna: the opposite would be nice!

Bill: well at least I’m not lying to you.

(Donna sighs)

Donna: you really don’t get it do you, you bloody don’t even understand why I’m mad at you!

Bill: of course I do.

Donna: oh don’t give me that bullshit! You never have and you never will!

(Donna finally gives in and starts to sob)

Bill: oh come here, I didn’t make out for it to be this way bu…

Donna: no, you! You stay the fuck away from me! I should of known you were nothing but a washed up junkie when we first met!

(Humbled, Bill bows his head and is silent)

Donna: I can’t take this anymore I’ve had enough! I’m leaving you Bill and you can’t stop me!


(With that she leaves a sobbing bill. Broken. On the doorstep of a darkened house).

Summer Evening. Extremely Late.

(Girl and boy our of breath in desperate need of air at the same time frantically trying to open the door)



Mark: (impatiently) COME ON, WE DON'T HAVE TIME. OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR WOMAN.



Stacey: (sobbing) I'M TRYING MARK, I'M TRYING.

Mark: OBVIOUSLY YOU'RE NOT TRYING HARD ENOUGH.

(Mark pushes away Stacey and snatches for the big bundle of keys and tries each one clumsily)

Mark: This is ridiculous, pathetic. (Looks behind him and all around) Useless girl, stop your crying you incompetent fish and HELP ME OUT?

Stacey: STOP SHOUTING AT ME... I DON'T LIKE IT WHEN YOU SHOUT.

Mark: Argh.... (looks at watch with a shocked look). OH FOR FUCK SAKE. LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE GONE AND DONE NOW.... WE'VE MISSED DOCTOR WHO!... bloody door.

Room in new York

Eve: (Breaks the awkward silence) So where were you last night?

Dan: I was at a meeting .It ended really late so I stopped over in a friend’s house.

Eve: I was worried.

Dan: Why? What’s the worse that can happen?

Eve: Well firstly we are in a different country and secondly…

Dan: Well you didn’t have to come.

Eve: (Looks hurt) But I wanted to. I want to support you.

Dan; I don’t need support!

Eve: Dan, Why are you being like this?

Dan: Look Eve this relationship is going nowhere, supporting me isn’t going to make everything better.

Eve: (Looks down) It was worth a try.

Dan: Not really Eve, I don’t love you and…

Eve: And what Dan!

Dan; I …

Eve: (on the verge of tears) No don’t say it. Please Dan, don’t say you’re in love with someone else please I beg you.

Dan: (Looks sympathetic) It’s been four years Eve. We don’t love each other.

Eve: (tears rolling down her cheek) I LOVE YOU! Please don’t do this Dan please.

Dan: But I …

Eve: Yes I know you have had countless affairs but I’ve forgiven you Dan I’ve forgiven you.

Dan: What, you knew?

Eve: (Smiling kindly)Yes I’ve known all this time. But it’s in the past…

Dan: So you pretended to believe all my excuses.

Eve: Yes Dan because I love you and I would do anything for you, and now me you and our baby-

Dan: BABY!!

Eve: Yes our baby. Mine and yours.

Dan: (speaks quietly) You’re pregnant.

Eve: Yes honey, isn’t it great? (She walks over and hugs him)

Cape Cod Evening

[ A young 23 year old man sits on the steps outside his house while his older 37 year old wife leans on the window to the right of him ]

Heather: So what are your plans for today then Hun?
Mark: The same as the last two months. Get up, eat , go to bed.
Heather: Stop exaggerating. Thought you wanted to go out somewhere.
Mark: Well I wanted to go out but I guess I can’t.
Heather: Why not?
Mark: You bloody well know why!
Heather: No I don’t!
Mark: To go out somewhere you need somewhere to go and someone to go with. In this isolated place I have no friends and I see you every minute of the bleeding day so no point going anywhere with you is there.
Heather: There’s no point getting angry at me. You wanted to move out here just as much as I did.

[ He gets up and takes a few paces forward ]

Mark: No I didn’t. It was you who wanted to move out here. I just wanted to make you happy but you’re still complaining.
Heather: Darling I am happy.
Mark: No you’re not. You’re constantly nagging me.
Heather: Im just trying to make sure your happy too.
Mark: Well im not. I hate this place. I cant even get a decent job out here. You’ve got your job that’s the reason we moved out here to get closer to your job. That’s the only reason.
Heather: No we moved out here to start the family we were planning for three years.
Mark: A family of what; cows?
Heather: No need for the tantrums.
Mark: Tantrums? You sound like my bleeding mo…
Heather: Your what? Carry on!
Mark: Fine. You sound like my bleeding mother. Always nagging me and telling me what to do and what not to do.
Heather: Well maybe if you acted more like a man instead of a lousy kid I wouldn’t have to treat you like one.
Mark: Oh god now you sound like dad.
Heather: Well one of us has to be the strong one.

[ He walks back to his wife and leans on the window next to her ]

Mark: You know what… Dad was right. You are to old for me. I don’t think i love you anymore . I dont think i ever did.
Heather: Oh don’t be silly. Just because you’re angry doesn’t mean you need to say things you’re going to regret.
Mark: The only thing I regret is lusting after you. The older woman.This isn’t how I want my life to be. The dogs the only one thats happy. Looks like he’s having the time of his life. I want to be like him. Free.

[ He stares at his wife, sighs and walks inside the house with his head hanging down ]

Chair Car

A young woman sits in a first class area of a train, staring at a woman on the other side of the carriage that is sat reading herbook.

Mildrid: (talking to her self ) Twenty-Five years and i've finally found her, the woman i've been looking for all my life

(She gets up and moves to the chair next to the other women and clears her throat)

Mildrid: Ermmm excuse me ( clears her throat again ) Excuse me!

Heather: Yes ( a startled shake in her voice ) Can I help you?

Mildrid: Ermm yes if you could. I was jsut wondering were you got your amazing necklace?

Heather: (while nervously fidling with her necklace) O you like it I purchased it while on a rendez-vous in Italy.

Mildrid: O did you! It looks suprisingly enough like one i got my mother on her birthday, the birthday before she left to go to Italy, isn't that wierd.

Heather: ( Suprised look on her face, lets go of her necklace and edges back) O wow really!

Mildrid: ( edges forward appearing to look at the necklace ) Really! ( lets out a fake laugh )

Heather: ( A defensive tone in her voice ) Well I don't know what you're trying to imply but I don't appreciate it!

Mildrid: ( a subtle but upset almost hurt, tone in her voice ) Mum how can u act like you don't know who I am? You just left me how could you do such a thing?

Heather: ( suprised but shaky tone of voice ) Ermmm excuse me i thi-

( Mildrid stands up leaning over heather invading her personal space )

Mildrid: ( getting infuriated ) Mum just answer the question!

Heather: ( raising her voice defensivly ) But excuse me, I think you find I don-

Mildrid: ( almost shouting ) Why are you rejecting me?

( Mildrid begins to shout at the top of her voice )

Heather: ( shouting to get heard ) I really don't know what you are talking about!

Mildrid: (still shouting ) O don't you now! Your Lorraine Werein are you or are you not! Did you have a child in chica-

Heather: ( Shouts at the top of her voice with hands out in defensive motion) My names Heather Bush not whatever you said i-

Mildrid: ( lowers her voice and sits back down) Wait your names not Lorraine Werein?

Heather: ( a bit disturbed ) No it's not it's -

Mildrid: ( ashamed, embaressed and let down voice very low) O sorry.

(Mildrid gets up and returns to her seat and keeps her head bowed for the rest of the train journey)

Summer Evening

(Kate and Ash standing outside their terrace, they came home from a friend’s place.)

Ash: What the hell was that about? What were you thinking of? You nearly, oh my gosh…what if something was to …

Kate: Err…what are you talking about? (looks at Ash) It wasn’t my fault, I just…just couldn’t stay there any longer. (looks away from Ash) She got lucky or else I would of...

Ash: You know exactly what I’m talking about, but that gives you no right to (pause)

Kate: (looks towards Ash) To what? To what Ash? Go on then, say it. You know I’m not the kind of person who would do such a thing but she crossed the line.

Ash: Oh God Kate, why do you have to be like this? (puts his arms round Kate)

Kate: I’m sorry. (pause) I couldn’t control myself, I was just about to give her what she deserved.

Ash: For such a small issue, you were about to (takes his arms away from Kate, holds her hand and looks into her eyes).

Kate: But I didn’t do it, isn’t that good enough for you? If you care so much about her and her precious life, why don’t you go live with her instead?

Ash: (sigh) why do you always think like that? I love you Kate.

Kate: Yeah, Yeah whatever you say. You never mean it and that’s why today I nearly took someone’s li- (pause)

Ash: Shut-up about that now, will you? I don’t want to talk about it anymore.

Kate: Oh…but who started talking about all this? Me? I don’t think so Ash. And why are you so shocked and worried anyways?

Ash: (looks at Kate in shock) Oh my…is that a question to ask? Don’t you understand what could have happen if you, you …

Kate: Well, not much would of happen, cause you see (pause) It wasn’t…

Ash: Kate don’t say anything else, both of us know what could have happen. (bows his head)

Kate: But Ash, at least listen to me, she wouldn’t have got hurt cause it was…

Ash: (looks up at Kate) Sssh Kate, I don’t want to hear anymore! Had enough, lets just go inside now please. (walks towards the door).

Kate: Alright but I wasn’t really going to hurt her, I was just…

TASK 23 VERY LATE =]

[Snow white sitting by the window in her wooden house and is on the phone to Cinderella who is laying on her bed in her gigantic room. They both hear a loud thud]
SW: Oh good gracious.
C: What was that? What happened?
SW: Its just grumpy hurling himself at the wall again. Honestly you’d think living with seven little guys would be easy but they’re just as mad as seven normal men.
C: Well that depends on what you define as normal.
SW: Oh some off it Cindz. I’d give anything to live with a handsome husband like yours.
C: Snowy believe me, there’s nothing charming about my prince.
SW: Cindz, you were always one to complain weren’t you. I see marriage hasn’t changed you
[She smiles to herself]
C: Shut it you.
SW: Did you hear about that little red riding hood. Heard she’s been to see her grandmother again.
C: Bless her. She’s just trying to help her grandmother feel better.
SW: That little wretch. Nearly got eaten alive last time. Thinks she’s invincible.
Its ‘coz she’s been hanging round with that little miss ‘my hairs longer and better than yours’. You know that little Rapunzel.
C: You’ve got to hand it to her though. She’s gorgeous.
SW: No wonder your step sisters hate her. Jealous cows. Don’t know what they’re jealous about though, they’re gorgeous themselves right Cindz?
[She chuckles]
C: Snowy you really need to stop bitching about other people. You wouldn’t like it if someone bitched about you.
SW: Oh please everyone loves me. Who’s gonna bad mouth me? You? Haha don’t think so.
C: Why don’t you just go and eat some red apples you greedy pig.
SW: [She takes a deep breath]
Cindz… I cant believe you’d go that far. You know im still traumatised.
C: Take a chill pill babes you know I was just messing. ( She says mimicking snow whites voice)
[There’s a loud knock at SW’s door]
SW: Well I’d love to chat and gossip [she says sarcastically] but your husbands at my door. Got to go and teach him everything you cant. [ She cackles and hastily hangs up]

Summer evening

(Richard and Amanda, both aged 24, stagger home to their terrace house after a night of heavy partying and switch on the patio light)

Richard: That was a great night Amanda; I could’ve stayed at the club all night.

Amanda: Yeah! That was a night to remember, and did you see John-

(A Loud smash of glass and Debris shower the couple as it interrupts Amanda, The Couple both look up in horror)

Richard: W-W-What on earth was that….?

Amanda: Oh it’s probably next doors baseball practice again, you know they’ve been playing over 6 years now.

Richard: But if it was your neighbours….

Amanda: Yeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah?

Richard: Shouldn’t it be on the other side? Since your neighbours are on the other side…

Amanda: You need to stop worrying so much, you used to be so carefree but now your way too safe.
(Richard folds his arms in a defensive position and prepares to traverse back to his own house)

Amanda; oh now don’t be like that, come in and have drink first.

Richard: Alright fine but I’m not going to get to comfy, I don’t know what could be lurking inside that attic of yours.

( the couple stroll in and Richard constantly checks for any dangers within the household)

Amanda: Oh stop worrying!!! Really, are you really that less of a man? Because if you are I might as well-
( A loud creak of floorboards and slamming of a door interrupts Amanda)

Richard: What the hell was that!

( Amanda shudders with fear but tries not to show it to Richard because of her earlier talks of bravery towards him)

Amanda: I-I-I’m sure its nothing…

CREEEEAAAAAAK!!!

Richard: Oh I don’t like the sound of that!!!!

Amanda: Don’t worry I’ll Check upstairs.

Richard: No Wait!!-

(Before Richard can finish Amanda is already halfway up the staircase)

Richard: Oh dear Oh Dear, I hope she’s o.k.…. COME ON RICHARD GET A GEIP OF YOURSELF, YOU’RE THE MAN, SHES THE WOMAN, YOUR SUPPOSED TO BE PROTECTING HER!!!!! But it is a really scary noise…

(Richard Hears A Loud Scream)

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Richard: AMANDA!!!!!!!!! ARE YOU O.K!!!!?

(There is no Reply)

Richard: AMANDA!!!! IM COMING UP O.K!!

(Richard cautiously traverses up the staircase and turns right into a dark room, there what seems to be a red door but with closer inspection he discovers that the red door is actually made of............BLOOD)

Richard: OH MY GOD!!! AMANDA!!!

( Richard opens the door and there to his horror he finds…………..)

Task 24- Room in New York

A middle aged man sits in a flat with his Mistress.
He reads the paper while she sits in silence.

Man: (looking up from paper and around the room) You've really turned this place around you know.
Woman: (Fiddling with glass ornaments on the shelf) Yes, well, I do try...
Man: (reading paper) Yeah, looks really nice.
Woman: (Turning to face the man) Look, Nigel... I need to talk to you...
Man: (flicking pages of the paper) Honey, I'll tell Megan about us. Just, not now, you know...
Woman: I hate being in this flat on my own most days. I need company, Nigel... (she says looking down)
Man: It won't be like that soon. I told you, I'm going to tell Megan. Just...just, give me time.
Woman: How long will that b-
(Man interrupts violently)
Man: I said I'd fucking tell her! Just leave it at that ok?!

Woman freezes in shock

Man:... Honey... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to....(hugging her)
Woman: (tears roll down her face) Get off of me. You make empty promises, all the time. Nigel I'm sick of it.

Man kicks the table in anger

Man: You know its hard for me!
Woman: We've been sneaking around for 6 years now, I want a solid relationship with no secrets. Man: I know... (he says angrily, clenching his fists)
Woman: You always say that you're such a man yet you're not brave enough to tell Megan?
Man: YOU DON;T UNDERSTAND HOW HARD IT IS TO TELL HER! MEGAN IS YOUR SISTER! IT WOULD BREAK HER HEART! (shouting)
Woman: Oh, so now all of sudden you care about breaking her heart? You never seem to care about her in bed, with me.

Man breathes heavily with frustration

Woman: You know, I might just pop there tomorrow and tell her myself
Man: NO! (he says lashing out and punches her torso)

Woman falls to the floor in agony and clenches her stomach

Complete silence...

Woman: You animal. I don't even know you any more...(shaking her head in tears)
Man: I'm...I'm..sorry(rushing towards her)
Woman:You. You stay the fuck away from me

They both look down to the floor and notice blood

Man:(staring in shock)...What is that...?
Woman: I'm pregnant, Nigel.

Nigel falls to the floor with guilt


*curtains close*

Hotel by a Railroad

An old man stands by window of his hotel room, cigarette in hand whilst his sister sits next to him, silently reading a book. The open window brings the sound of passing trains.

Old man: It’s time Annie.

Sister: (Slowly looks up from her book) For you maybe. It was never time for me.

Old man: (Inhales, says abruptly) For God’s sake, we’ve been through this a thousand times.

Sister: (Closes book and places it on her lap.) A thousand times is never enough. (Pauses) What’s done is done. You dragged me here to dig it up like you always do.

Old man: She couldn’t have lived, you know that Annabelle. We sent her out here for a reason. No one could have noticed that she was gone out here (Inhales deeply).

Sister: (Her eyes teary and full of awe) Mother noticed. We were away for months before you returned and sent me to America. She knew something was wrong.

Old man: She knew something was wrong and she died because of it. (Leans forward over the windowsill) She knew things that weren’t good for her. (Sighs)

(Pause)

Sister: If only we’d been more care-

Old man: (Interrupts her and then undoes the top button of his shirt.) Did you enjoy dinner last night? (Taps cigarette)

Sister: It wasn’t different from the night before. (Opens up her book and continues from where she left off.)

Old man: I ordered Gnocchi in the spaghetti, your favourite.

Sister: Funny you remembered. (Smiles) I forgot how much I loved it.

Old man: (Carries on staring out the window, breathing in deeply) You smiled.

Sister: You saw. (Looks up to meet his gaze as he puts out his cigarette.)

Old man: (Catches her eye whilst putting out his cigarette.) It’s time to go. (Softly drops the butt) Do you still remember where we put her?

Sister: (Tears welling up inside her eyes) We buried our little girl in the forest behind the rail track, (Pauses) where no one would have noticed. (She picks herself up and places the book on the sofa. He places his arm around her, and together they leave the hotel room, locking it behind them.)

Summer Evening

Bryan: You don't smoke.]

Amanda: Yeah,  i know i don't smoke. I just wanted some fresh air.

Bryan: Well i think you can sacrifice your fresh air for good manners . Come back and join our guests.

 (Bryan starts to walk into the house)

Amanda: I think I'm a racist.

(Bryan Pauses)

Bryan: You think you're racist or you are racist?

Amanda: Well I'm not sure. See i...

(bryan Interrupts)

Bryan: Would you feel awkward being sold a car by a colored person.

Amanda: No, It's just...

Bryan: Your not racist, I can remember countless times when you've stood up for negroes. Remember last week when you judged the diving competition at the integrated pool.

Amanda: Yeah. I suppose you're right.

Bryan: As always. Now, time for some lemon meringue pie.

(he rushes towards the door)

Amanda: I nearly beat a man to death.

(Bryan turns and stares in awe at Amanda)

Amanda: After i came out of' Diane's this colored man swaggered up and asked me for a dollar for the train fare and when i told him that i didn't want to give him a dollar he reached into his inside coat pocket. I honestly thought that i was gonna die, so i took the first thing from my bag, which was my perfume, and i sprayed it in his eyes. He fell onto his knees, and i started kicking his head and his ribs. It felt like hours before the police came. Sergeant Morgan told me that he had taken a statement from a witness and that he clearly tried tried to assault me. 

Bryan: But he did. He was about to pull a gun.

Amanda: No. As i walked past the crime scene on the way home i saw what was in his fist, it was a card with his name, address and the telephone number of his surgery.

Bryan: You almost killed a colored doctor. Listen, lets make sure that as little people as possible hear about this, if this makes out of the county, the city press will find out and they will crucify you, which will lead to an appeal and another inquisition.

( Bryan puts his hand on his heart, Amanda carries on with her story, glazed over)

Amanda: The worst thing was- I enjoyed every second, the rush it gave me, the power it gave me.

Bryan: Listen, I love you but...

 (Amanda takes a different tone, almost clinical)

Amanda: nothing ever good comes out of sentences that start with i love you but.

Bryan: I don't know what to say.

Amanda: Then don't say anything.