Mr Picasso: A Short Story Part 1

Authors Note: Hey everyone hope you are well. I am sorry about my lack of blog posts recently. I have gone back to University and it has taken up a lot of my time. However that’s not the only reason for my silence. I was worried about publishing this story as I love the main character a lot, but I felt hesitant to post it incase readers didn’t agree. Ultimately I decided I won’t know unless I try. I hope you enjoy and please like and comment so I know you want the second part

EDIT: By the way, I plan to develop this story further so please feel free to leave any feedback in the comments!

(9 minute read)

I was so tired the day after, she took a long time. I thought it would just be another quick one, but it turned out to be much more than that. I’m still shocked it even happened. I mean she was a bit of a challenge but, it was worth it. How did I meet her? Well, I’ll tell you. It was about 9 o’clock on the Monday, 2nd of January. I remember getting ready making sure to perfectly gel my hair, put on a nice pair of jeans and a clean top. Women love a well-groomed man, makes them feel like you’d take care of them too.

She was standing by the bar and caught my attention almost instantly. I bet you’d like me to say she was provocative? That she was standing there half naked, flirting with every guy in her line of sight? Well, sorry to disappoint but she was perfectly modest and respectable. That’s what attracted me to her. There was something about her, something fragile and innocent. It was something I realised as I gazed upon her green eyes that were intensified by fear.  It was something I needed to own. If it was mine, I could destroy it.

I decided quickly to approach her. I could tell she was the kind of woman who would appreciate a gentle touch. She reminded me of a lost baby chimp. As though she had been abandoned and left helpless to predators. In a room full of women practically waltzing around in their underwear, her long black jumper dress was alien. Perhaps if we were standing in a coffee shop in November it would have been considered acceptable. She obsessively put her dark brown hair behind her ear, to only pull it out again moments later. She shuffled from foot to foot and was visibly nervous. She was perfect.

“Can I have a double whiskey please?” I said to the barman as I took my place beside her.

“And one for the lady?” I asked with my most genuine smile. The one I’ve been practicing for God knows how long.

“Yes. Yeah. I mean, thank you. I’ll have a shandy.” A shandy? I remember squinting and rubbing my eyes to focus my vision, in case I’d mistaken an elderly lady for a suitable match. The barman brought over our drinks a few minutes later and she still couldn’t keep eye contact with me. I noticed her holding a lighter and that’s when I knew I could do this.

“Want to pop out for a cigarette?” I asked her while grabbing one from a fresh pack and offering another to her. Beth silently nodded and we made our way to the smoking area. Luckily for us, it was surprisingly empty. I mean apart from a couple drunk girls sitting on the floor in the corner. I couldn’t tell you if Beth noticed, if she did, she didn’t make it obvious. Her eyes barely left the floor at first. But I soon got her talking didn’t I.

“So, Beth what is a nice girl like you doing in a grotty club like this?” She looked embarrassed and her cheeks flushed a little bit, but I didn’t bring it up. I let her reply in her own time.

“Well, I just wanted to go out, I guess. I don’t have many mates and the ones I do have aren’t into clubs. This is the first club I’ve ever been to. I don’t think I like it either.”

“There are a lot of better places to go out to. This is more of a…I dunno, even I don’t like it sometimes.” I lied so easily. That was the first time I’d ever been there too. So far, I was loving it.

“What’re you doing here then James?” She asked with a tight smile. Finally, I thought, a bit of life. That’s’ when I knew it would be interesting.

“I was stood up. A girl I’d been seeing was meant to meet me here an hour ago. Tried calling but she won’t pick up. Thought I’d drown my sorrows.” I downed my drink in a couple of gulps. I reckon it added to the story. I saw her eyes studying me, as though she could tell I was lying. But she just asked me the usual questions. How long were you seeing her? Did you really like her? What does she look like? It’s funny how territorial some girls can get in such a short amount of time. I have been told it’s down to my stunning God given looks, but I say that’s bullshit, it’s all about the attitude.

“What is it that you do for a living then Beth?”

“I’m a student I study primary education with a specialisation in English. I live in a host-family home down on Harris Street. They’re moving soon though, gotta try find somewhere and that’s been a right nightmare.” She tilted her head down, diverting her sad gaze elsewhere. I couldn’t believe my luck. I decided to probe further.

“I’m sure you could stay with your parents no?”

“Oh, no actually. They aren’t around anymore.” She said without looking up. It was time to step up the charm. I gently lifted her chin up and looked into her eyes. I felt her recoil for a moment, but I knew how to put a woman at ease. You must make them feel special. Like they’re the most perfect thing walking the Earth. You compliment them, look lovingly into their eyes. You make them trust you.

After a few more rounds, I decided she was sufficiently drunk, and I asked her to come back to my flat. She agreed. Beth wanted to come back to mine, I asked her multiple times in front of the bouncers. She told me yes. I called a cab and we were soon within the safety of my home. It’s a nice enough place. I don’t like mess, so I only have the necessities. I didn’t have a washing machine, got the laundrette for that. You meet people like that, standing by an ancient washing machine that squeaks with every spin, you get chatting. You get to know people sure, but more importantly they get to know you. Other than that, I had a bed, a cooker and a fridge. A simple life is a happy life.

Anyway, when we got in, I offered her a glass of water and said I’d sleep on the sofa if she wanted to have my bed. It’s only a single anyway, wouldn’t have been enough room for the both of us. She came over to me, or rather she stumbled over to me. I had to steady her before she collapsed on the floor. I was surprised she hadn’t already considering the amount she drank at the club.

“You should go to sleep now Beth” I encouraged, I needed her to fall asleep. It just wouldn’t work with her like this.

“Why? We… We haven’t spoked at all though.” Beth was swaying again and for a moment I was sure her face flashed a light shade of green.

“You’re too drunk. Go to sleep,” I grabbed her arm, quite firmly, and pulled her toward the bed. Beth did what I said and got under the covers. I was glad she’d finally caught on. I left the door slightly ajar, sat outside and waited. Within the space of five minutes, she was asleep. Once I was truly convinced that she was out, I started to prepare.

The adrenaline running through my veins was probably enough to power a space shuttle.  I remember having a little bounce in my walk, yeah, I was excited but there was something else. A desire for something a bit more, adventurous shall I say. I decided to go a bit further than I had done before. The ideas floating around my head were irresistible. She was perfect.

I walked back into the bedroom and just watched her for a little while. She looked so peaceful all sprawled out on my bed. I was so close to her face I could count the blonde hairs on her forehead. I know she was knocked out, practically sedated, but her face was a vision of peace and prospects. I had to take it.

I stood up towering high above her and lifted her up. She was so small, it was like carrying a little kid. She barely stirred. Her head flopped painfully to one side and her arms and legs flailed around like they had a mind of their own. It was a short walk to the back of the flat, I lucked out when I found this place. It’s on a run-down estate with mostly empty flats all around. It was scheduled to all be knocked down and the council had plans to rebuild luxury flats instead. Most tenants decided to move as quickly as possible, you never know when they’d be back with bulldozers. I was on the top floor of a 50-floor tower block. There were no neighbours for as far as the eye could see, or the ear could hear as it were. She was perfect and that was perfect.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror and noticed my blonde hair had fallen from its former high stance. I thought I must have sweated all the gel away, what with all the anticipation and preparation. I quickly re-focused on the task at hand. Beth’s breathing began to get quite shallow, but I wasn’t worried. I closed the door to the back room and laid her down on the table I had put in the middle. The room was fully soundproofed, of course you can never be too careful in these kinds of situations. Hey, I even locked the door with ten different bolts I’d installed the week before. Never too careful.

I then took off her jumper dress and let it fall limply beside my foot. I could then finally see all of her. She was very pale and quite skinny, she was a bone to put it plainly. I examined every inch of her body and I remember seeing long angry cuts all the way up both arms and both legs from the knee up. Now the long dress and tights makes sense, I thought. She was ashamed. It was interesting to say the least. How do I always manage to track down those kinds of women? The broken kind. The damaged kind with deep daddy issues. I think it’s a gift personally.

You know what I did next.

No?

Signed,

Jen X

I’m Struggling: My Rambling Thoughts

Authors note: This is an unedited stream of thoughts. I had the urge to blog and thought I would share this.

Hey everyone hope you’re all okay!

I’ve been a bit quiet on here for a bit and I’ve noticed I’ve lost a little bit of the momentum I had for blogging im the beginning.

Yesterday I got my final grade for my BA in criminology and sociology and it was not what I was hoping for. Luckily I prepared for this and applied for mitigating circumstances so I can retake the modules I failed. The thing is, University has been the worst experience of my life. I have been miserable since the day I started which is now 5 years ago. I still haven’t graduated. I started in September 2014 at 18 years old. Something that has changed my life happened during my first week which followed me and frankly broke me for a year after.

Then in my second year or University my grandad was diagnosed with an incurable form of cancer. The pain I felt for another year, while I watched my grandad die, was indescribable. I fell into a deep depression. A depression I find I am still battling with to this day. He died February 2017. I dropped out of uni for a year. I got sacked from a job I enjoyed.

Somehow I found enough motivation within myself to try again. I got the chance to retake my second year, and I got a 2:1 overall. But it wasn’t enough to lift me out of the darkness I had surrounded myself with. I went into my final year and I crumbled. My anxiety prevented me from attending lectures, seminars and even from using public transport. I became a house bound recluse for a year.

It is only now, 5 years after enrolling into Univeristy, that I feel my mindset is more suited to the work it requires. I am by no means better. I struggle everyday. I have forced myself to get out of this room. I am trying to get better and I hope, after all that’s happened to me, this time I will try. I think I will because for the first time in 5 years, I want to live. I want to try. I didn’t before. I didn’t care enough to try. But I care now.

I hope this time will be different but only I can make it different. Only I can make the necessary changes.

Signed,

Jen X

Saving You Saved Me: A Short Story

Authors Note: Hello everyone! Here is a new short story I’ve been working on. It isn’t the one I discussed in my previous post about adapting short stories, that one is still in the works. It is a lot longer than my previous stories on this blog, but I hope you enjoy it regardless!

(14-18 minute read)

When you make promises to somebody, you should go to the ends of the Earth to honour them. If somebody treats you right, puts you before themselves and never allows anybody to exploit you, you must do the same for them. Even if it means you go hungry. Even if it means you sacrifice your own warmth for theirs. Loyalty is everything. I am and always will be loyal to Harry.

Harry ‘s my brother and my best friend. He rescued me from those horrible men who ripped me from my mother’s womb and tried their hardest to force me to fight. They starved me, beat me and locked me in a cage. Harry was there but he would sometimes sneak me scraps of food, that I could smell had been taken out of a bin. On rare occasions he would half a sandwich he’d managed to get hold of ,though these luxuries were far and few between. I knew he wanted to help me, but those men, who stank of stale sweat and thick alcohol, had imprisoned him like they had me. They forced him to steal others like me from people who loved them. They forced him to watch the atrocities they committed and through it all, Harry stayed true to who he was. He refused to partake in the abuse, and would be beaten himself as a punishment.

“I’m sorry little one,” Harry said to me one day after a particularly bad beating, “I’m gonna get you out of here. I can’t right now but when the time’s right, we’re out of here!” I don’t know why but I believed him. I could see it in his eyes every time he was forced to witness the beatings. That look was there when they taunted me with food and then cruelly took it away. Every time I was confronted with a new competitor, Harry apologised with his eyes, reminding me of his promise. Somehow, he knew I only killed them to survive. My initial instinct upon meeting my latest challenger was not to kill them. Nor was it to bite and rip and gnaw at them until there was nothing but blood and flesh in every direction. I hated the taste of their blood in my mouth, their cries and the sound of their lungs exhaling their final breaths. I didn’t want to kill them but I had to . I did it to stay alive long enough for Harry to take me away from it.

Finally, the day came. Harry’s not a very big man. He’s actually quite short, boyish and dangerously thin. His dirty tracksuit bottoms hang so loosely around his waist, he has to use a hair tie to keep them from falling to his ankles. But that day he came to rescue me, he looked like some kind of God that finally decided to intervene. That day, I was alone in the garage, tied up and locked in a cage so small I couldn’t stand up not to mention I hadn’t eaten in a week and was ravenous. The sound of the garage doors opening sent shockwaves of fear through my body. Although I couldn’t stand, I could feel my legs shaking uncontrollably. That was until I saw Harry’s shock of black hair and those kind brown eyes looking down on me. That was the first time I had ever smelled alcohol on him. The scent was so strong for an awful moment, I thought they had finally broken him. I thought he had become one of them. I searched his face for answers, but he was frantically trying to unlock the cage.

“Hello boy! We need to be super quiet okay?” He said as the lock finally clicked, and the door swung open. It was always a struggle getting out of the cage. I stretched my front two legs in front of me and then shuffled the rest of the way. I could see Harry was terrified because every second he was looking out for the demons that were intent on destroying us. He took a piece of rope, tied a loop and put it around my neck. At first, I couldn’t walk at all. I was so weak my legs refused to cooperate. Harry saw I was struggling and scooped me into his arms. The pain was unbearable and a low growl managed to escape my throat.

“Shhh boy, I know. I know them fuckers have hurt you but…” he hesitated as he swallowed his rage, “We have to be quiet okay, I don’t know when they’re coming back. I’m getting us out.” He rubbed my head so gently, the love I already had for him doubled. That was the moment I knew, once I was able to, I needed to protect him at all costs.

He ran as fast as he could, through the estate, through the park and he kept on running until it was dark. The day had left and an uncertain night had taken its place. Harry scanned every street, every alley way and every shop entrance until he found one he deemed suitable. That was the best night of my life. Harry never left me alone. He carried me until I had the strength to stand. He rummaged through shop bins giving me every piece of food he found. Luckily for us, Harry bumped into someone who was dressed similarly to him. She smelled awful but I could tell she was kind. She gave him one of her duvets and a bottle of clear alcohol.

“That’ll keep you warm,” she said to Harry. He accepted, thanked her and set up our bed for the night. It was a very quiet street but almost every shop entrance had people sleeping there. Others had small groups of people, men and women, talking and drinking. Some huddled up close to protect each other from another chilly night. Harry laid the duvet down on the ground and we both sat on top of it. I laid down as close to him as I could, hoping to radiate enough warmth to stop him from shaking. He took long swigs of that drink he was given and stroked me until he fell asleep still sitting up.

That was our life. We moved around a lot, almost every day. That was the one and only time we slept at night. Harry told me it’s much safer to sleep for most of the day and then move on during the night. For a while, it was fine. Some days Harry collected enough money from strangers to be able to buy proper food for me to eat. Harry’s so good like that. He’d happily go without so I could eat.

“I need you to be big and strong so you can protect us, don’t I? You’re the best dog ever boy!” He would say after feeding me as much as he could. To this day, I’m not sure if boy is my name but it’s the only thing Harry has ever referred to me as. So, it must be. Up until recently, we had not run into much trouble. Here and there a few people would tell Harry to fuck off, or they tell him how horrible it is to use me to gain sympathy. I would scream and shout at them, but they never seemed to understand, he saved me. He wasn’t like the other men. The ones I see sharing the same guardian. The ones who don’t care for them like Harry cares for me. Harry would never react how I did. He would always stay calm, apologise and move on if he needed to.

I don’t know how long we lived on the streets, but after what felt like a lifetime, Harry was given a room to live in. It was a tiny room, but it was better than a cold stairwell. For a while life was better than ever. Harry stopped drinking, he ate more food than I ever saw before, and we had a warm bed to cuddle up in. Of course, I never really felt 100% safe. Something inside of me told me to always keep an ear out. I’d never let myself get too comfortable, I would tell myself to sleep with one eye open.

On a day like any other, there was a light knock on the door. Harry opened to door, probably expecting it to be a delivery. Standing in the doorway, was a giant man, not dissimilar to the men who kept us prisoner. He was broad, large and bald. Why are they always bald?

“Hello, I’m looking for Harry? I’m here to serve an eviction notice. I need to inform you that the landlord has decided he wants to redo the bedsits and make them into bigger flats for more rent. Once the renovations are done, he is stopping accepting housing benefit so unfortunately you need to move out.” The man at the door didn’t notice me that day. Harry already told me not to shout every time the door went, or every time a letter was posted through the letterbox.

“How long till I have to leave then?” Harry asked, defeated. He wasn’t one for confrontation, that’s what I was there for.

“30 days, I’m giving you this to show I have served the eviction notice.” With that, he handed him the paper and walked away. Harry closed the door and just stood there for a while, reading it again and again. He eventually slumped down onto the ground with his head hanging low. I went straight over to him and nestled my snout into his neck. I could smell the salt in his tears that were now falling thick and fast. I placed myself in between his legs and looked straight at him. I wanted so badly to tell him it was okay. That we were going to be okay.

“You are too good for this Earth boy. You are too good for it.” He held me for a long while, before grabbing him phone and making a call. He seemed to be avoiding me all day until that evening. Harry put two tins in my bowl and for the first time, he left me inside on my own.

“I’ll be back soon, just need to pop out,” he said but as he did, I let out a low whimper to show my dissatisfaction. He smiled at me with such love, I started licking his face until I was on top of him. His laughter echoed through the tiny room and my heart was entirely full. Although I hate being alone, I knew there must have been a reason. He would never leave me unless he had to.

Before he left, he came over to where I was laying, kissed my head and stroked me. That was not out of the ordinary, as he usually made time for me every single day. He stood up while still looking at me and said,

“Saving you really did save me boy. I love you.”

Once the door clicked behind him, I found my comfy spot on the end of the bed and let sleep caress me. I woke up a while later and the room was dark. Too dark. I cried and cried until I eventually fell back asleep. When I opened my eyes once more, Harry was back. But he was acting odd. He was on the floor, reeking of alcohol and his eyes were rolling back in his head. I go straight for him and lick his face. He didn’t say hello boy, he didn’t stroke me. He didn’t even look at me at all.

The night turned to day and then day back to night and Harry was still on the ground. I didn’t leave his side once. I didn’t leave to relieve myself, I didn’t leave to grab the last bit of food in my bowl. I just stayed with him, with my head resting on his leg. I tried so many times to wake him up. I licked his face. I screamed and shouted until my throat hurt. I even nibbled at his fingers and toes like I used to when I wanted his attention. Nothing. Once again, my only escape was the comfortable nothing of sleep. I felt like I had been sleeping for way too long, when a knock on the door woke me up. It began as a polite three taps but then progressed into angry thuds that shook the door in its hinges.

“Hello, Harry Roberts? Hello sir, we are here to repossess the property if you could open the door please?” Said a man through the letter box. I remembered what Harry had told me and stayed put. I thought they had finally given up when a loud bang announced the entrance of three big men in black uniforms. I peeled my eyes off them and onto Harry.

“Fucking hell” said the bald man who was standing the closest to us. He pulled a piece of tissue out of his trouser pocket and used it to cover his nose and mouth. The other two men followed suit. One of them looked to be about the same age as Harry and he was using the end of his tie rather than a piece of tissue. The other one looked almost sickly, very pale, very slim and he didn’t look very steady on his feet.

“Jesus. He’s not… He ain’t… He’s…” The young one blurted to the bald one. I saw them scanning the room, but they still didn’t seem to notice me.

“Got another tissue?” The pale one asked. He used it to pick something up off the kitchen side.

“Look fellas, needles all over the sink area.” Their faces, as if in unison, dropped to the ground. Usually I would have reacted to them touching Harry’s things, just like those times people would try to take our sleeping bags or the money he’d managed to collect. But I couldn’t leave Harry, even if I tried.

“Poor guy. He’s only about 20, look at him.” The man named Bill said to the room. He rubbed his shiny head and I saw his brown eyes flash with tears.

“And the poor dog as well.” Finally, I thought, they noticed me. For a fleeting moment, I thought we were going to be okay. These men would help Harry wake up and we could go back to how it was. Bill, still covering his face with the tissue, leant down closer to me.

“He never left his owners side.” He was looking at me, but it felt more like he was looking through me.  After a reflective moment, someone finally said

“How long you think they’ve been dead for?”


Signed,

Jen X

Passing Comment: A Poem

Authors note: Hey everyone, here is a poem I just wrote. It’s funny because last night I was thinking about how I haven’t written any poetry and that was because I haven’t felt depressed in a little while. I felt surprisingly happy and was glad I hadn’t written any poetry as it seemed like a good sign. But today I haven’t been good. Today has been hard and a conversation I had earlier sparked this poem. I hope you enjoy it.


It was just a passing comment

It was just a nostalgic trip

About how happy your childhood was

About how you look back with fondness

It made my eyes flash with memories

It made my eyes brim with tears

But you didn’t know how I was feeling

But you would never understand even if you did

I hope you know it wasn’t out of jealousy

I hope you know it wasn’t out of spite

Words have such power

Words can take you back

They take you to a place you have fought to escape

They take you to a place you have prayed to forget

It was just a passing comment

It was just

A

Passing

Comment.


Signed,

Jen X

I Need A Bit Of Advice: Adapting Short Stories

Hello everyone I hope you are doing well!

So I thought I would come on here and and ask for a bit of advice with regards to a short story I just finished.

As I was writing it, I fell in love with the main character, although he is not somebody I would ever wish to encounter in real life. He is a very complex character and the story itself ended up being around 3500 words. However when I finished the first draft, I wasn’t satisfied.

I intentionally left the ending open and there is definite room to expand this story into a book.

That’s where you come in.

I’m not sure whether to keep it as a short story, post it to my blog and call it a day. Or whether I should try to expand it and tell the whole story. Maybe I could even do both?

I’m really not sure.

It’s a very dark story that is quite troubling but the main character is strangely likeable. He seems too good of a character to end his story there.

What do you think?

Please let me know in the comments any advice you may have.

Signed,

Jen X

The Sunshine Blogger Award!

Hello everyone,

I just posted a short story, of which I hope you have a minute to check out after this one, you can find that here. HOWEVER, this morning I woke up to a lovely comment by The Avid Reader nominating little old me for a Sunshine Blogger Award.

So thank you very much for that!

So as for the award, I have briefly heard it mentioned, but as I have only been blogging for coming up to a month I admittedly needed to Google what is it precisely: “The Sunshine Blogger Award is given to those who are creative, positive, and inspiring, while spreading sunshine to the blogging community.”Once I read that, I was like, wow. Maybe I did the right thing starting this blog and sharing my work. So a big huge oversized THANK YOU to  The Avid Reader and everyone please make sure to check out their blog!

So, there are some rules that go along with the nomination and this is what is required of me in return:

  1. Thank the blogger who nominated you in the blog post and link back to their blog.
  2.  Answer the 11 questions the blogger asked you.
  3. Nominate 11 blogs to receive the award and write them 11 new questions.
  4. List the rules and Display the Sunshine Blogger Award logo in your post and/or on your blog.

Right, down to the questions I’ve been asked!

If you could only read one book and watch one film for the rest of your life, what would they be?

What a question. The one book I would read for the rest of my life has to be Sleepers, by Lorenzo Carcaterra. This book has taught me so much and I believe there is much still waiting to be discovered amongst its pages. I read it as a young teen and will continue to read it again and again.

The one film I would watch for the rest of my life on the other hand is tough. I don’t really like movies, I find myself skipping a lot of irrelevant filler scenes and that gets tiring. But if I had to choose, it would be Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind which is funny considering this is the Sunshine Blogger Award post! (Just noticed that while adding the link haha.) If you’ve seen it, then you might know why I chose this. If you haven’t I recommend you do.

Tea or Coffee?

I used to hate coffee, but in recent years I have developed a taste for it. However, nothing hits the spot better than a nicely brewed strong cup of tea.

Paper Books or E-Books?

I have written a blog post about this, it was one of my first ever posts. It’s called Tradition VS Convenience: Should Printed Books Be Left In The Past?

In Short, I prefer paperbacks but I am not opposed to e-book reading.

What’s your favourite day of the week?

Thursday. Just because, the excitement due to the approaching weekend is just within reach but not quite. Then it gets to Friday and you’re like, yay weekend but it never really lives up to your expectations. I like the idea of the weekend more than the weekend itself. Strange.

Are you an Early Bird or a Night Owl?

When I was a young teenager I would WILLINGLY get up at 5.30am on a school day, leave my house at around 6 and be at school by 7am just so I could have a quiet place to read before school. 

Now, I am a definite Night Owl. I find I am most creative in the evenings. I have the most motivation in the evening/early hours of the morn. I feel calmer at night.

What’s your favourite number?

I have always found this question to be odd. What does a number have to do in order to be positively perceived? Maybe I am biased because I am and always have been quite perplexed by numbers. They seem to float around in my mind and never settle enough for me to really understand them. So I guess the answer is, I don’t in fact have a favourite number.  

If you could have dinner with anyone famous (dead or alive) who would they be and why?

This is a hard one. I don’t really care for famous people. I don’t have any celebrity idols or anything like that so that makes this very very hard indeed. I think it would have to be Émile Durkheim. He was a french Sociologist and is commonly referred to as one of the forefathers of Sociology.  He had a lot of interesting theories and I would love to tell him of our society, his reaction would be a picture for sure.

Who is you favourite author?

It may sound blah but… Stephen King. I am not a fan of series of books and haven’t really had a definitive favourite author as it changes a lot. But I love Stephen King and have been reading his books for as long as I could read books. My grandad was a massive King fan and I may or may not have temporarily stolen borrowed them at a very young age. 

Why did you start blogging?

I started writing  a book about 9 months ago. It’s an idea that I had for about a year before I ever wrote a word. I’m not much of an outliner on paper but in my head, the story has to make sense for me to want to make it into a real life story. I was also writing poetry occasionally and felt sad that they were sitting in a folder on my laptop all sad and lonely. I have wanted to blog for years, I started a writing blog as a teenager and quickly deactivated it when nobody read it. I’m now a lot older and realise I can write for myself and if it interests other people or makes a small difference in their life too, that’s a bonus!

IMG_20160811_130434.jpg

What makes you happy?

My dog Monty. He has been like my best friend/annoying little brother for almost 12 years! The love he has in his sweet little soul is undescribable. When I lived at home, he slept in bed with me every night. It is only now that I write this do I realise why. (Reasons I can’t go into.)He is so gentle, loving, silly and stubborn. God I love him!

Dogs or Cats?I think my previous answer answers this one for me! 

The blogs I’m going to nominate are: 

  1. Blissbelly
  2. C.D Anders
  3. The Broken Inside Of Me
  4. Ignited
  5. Chloe’s Blog
  6. Rachael Fairclough
  7. Tee The Poet
  8. The Blighters Rock
  9. European P. Douglas Writer
  10. Kitty Marie Book Reviews
  11. DoRee MelNic

My Questions for all you lovely people are as follows and I look forward to reading all your answers!

  1. What is your favourite genre of books and movies?
  2. What is the best piece of advice you have ever received?
  3. If you had to pick a new name for yourself what would it be and why?
  4. Where is the most beautiful place you have ever visited?
  5. If you could ask your pet three questions what would they be?
  6. What book or movie character would you most like to meet?
  7. What is your dream job?
  8. What is something you’ve never done but have always wanted to?
  9. What is your favourite childhood book?
  10. Who was your favourite teacher and why?
  11. What do you love most about yourself?

Signed,

Jen X

A Question Of Perspective: A Short Story

(under 5 minute read)

I can feel Emma on top of me. Her weight is evenly distributed, but heavy nonetheless. To be honest it’s a comfort, an early sign of what’s to come. The weight of her body lets me know that it’s nearly time to go home. Or as close to home as possible.

Emma’s family came to visit yesterday. I must admit I was very nervous for their arrival as I wasn’t sure whether these people were coming for another round of chopping, cutting, scraping and colouring. I was relieved to find out they only came to see Emma. Though her mother did mention how beautiful I was, she was the only one to acknowledge me at all. The rest of her family members seemed to look through me, as if I were invisible. However, I refused to allow their negativity to burden me further. It was the likes of them that brought me here and made me what I am today. I didn’t ask for this.

Emma and I were left to get acquainted in a small room of which boasted soft glowing candles and colourful windows. That was until we were transported to an even smaller room that moved, just after flowers had been placed on top of us by sullen men in matching suits. I saw other moving rooms as we made our way to a large field with a stone house in the centre. I spot Emma’s mum and her red eyes fill with tears as soon as she notices our arrival. She turns her back and cries into the shoulder of a man I’ve never seen before. He certainly wasn’t there yesterday with the rest of the family. He is very tall, thin and gaunt. His presence unnerves me for reasons I can’t explain.

“Why is she crying? Why does everyone look so… Red?” I ask Emma.

Silence. I admit defeat and promise myself not to dwell on it. Today is my day and she can’t ruin it for me. Even if we are being forced to spend the foreseeable future together, they do say time is a healer.

I notice everyone in the room turning to look at us as we are brought to the front, every row filled with long faces. After a short speech and a few songs, people start approaching Emma and I. Some people place trembling hands on me, while others are simply staring with glassy eyes. The men who carried us in here are big and strong, not dissimilar to the first men I ever met not too long ago. It’s hard to enjoy the attention when the atmosphere feels thick with despair and is swirling with sadness. The room empties and I am once again lifted into the arms of men.

“Earth you are, and to earth you will return,” says the man who is sprinkling a rain-like substance on top of us. Oh, how I’ve missed the rain. If only my roots were still intact, perhaps I could quench this dry thirst. I still feel Emma’s weight on top of me, but then I finally feel the cool earth underneath me. I take the opportunity to revel in the familiarity of the dirt and find myself holding Emma closer. I think myself luckier than most. Some never get the opportunity to be as close to home as this.

“I know it must be hard to leave your family and friends, but I’m going to help you return to the Earth. That way, you will always be near them.”


So, this is my little story. I do hope you enjoyed it and if you did (or didn’t) please let me know in the comments!

Signed,

Jen x