Here’s a simple task that works well under timed conditions. Confine yourself to 300-words and set a timer for 5 minutes. See how far you can pursue an idea and then continue in writing ‘spurts’ -it works because it encourages free writing and daring.
I recently joined a superb on-line writing course (Writing for Well-being) with Unthank Writing based in Norwich. My tutor, Georgina Parfitt, delivered an inspiring session on ‘surprise’. This is the result.
Tyrone Constable held the brick to his face. The dust soothed him. In front of concrete foundations, he always felt like a priest. This will endure he said to himself. He crouched down and adjusted the line of string, glad to see freckles of blood on the back of his hand. Only Men worked with bricks and stone. Cement endowed the world with certainty. Tyrone kept the architect’s plans close by a job too, encased in spotless, cardboard cylinders in the van. The knowledge of their whereabouts reassured him. Blessed him.
A man needed rituals to keep the world on a level.
He adjusted the brick again. Tyrone preferred these moments alone. He lit a cigarette, glancing over at the squat shape of the mixer. No life like it. Solid objects. Blink and you’d miss the magic. He selected another brick. Sharp edges on this one. Could damage someone. But there was no one in his life he wanted to harm today; no him or her to cast any sudden shadow.
He tossed the cigarette into the foundations. One day his DNA might matter. But he’d always been careful. He never stalled on a job.
Tyrone’s second phone vibrated in his breast pocket. The committee. They valued his discretion. His artistry. Plenty of room on this site. He messaged back. Monday fine, never signed his real name. Just one ‘x‘ to cement the deal perfectly. A kind of joke.
‘Same old Tyrone.’ said a voice behind him. A shadowy voice, like a whispered, forgotten secret. Maybe female.
Definitely female. Damn.
‘Bye Tyrone.’ The last thing Tyrone heard was the hiss of something metallic before he lost half his head and all of his beautiful mind.
A short while later, someone switched on the mixer for the first time that day.
