Over the weekend I went through some old files and cleared stuff out and filed! I found some old stories. They made me laugh. I wrote some when I was in my late teens. I do hope I have moved on since then! I rescued what I thought might be useable with a heck of a lot of editing and I also found a poem I'd been looking for about two years, along with several others that might be okay with some editing. My older poems seemed rather simple - nice but twee. Still, it does you good to see your 'back catalogue' and realise how you've developed.
Along with all the dross I found the stuff I wrote when I did a course at an Adult Education for one term. One story I ditched because it was so corny and even I didn't believe it but there were other things that made me laugh - in a good way. I realise I do like humour in my work. I have decided to share one of my 'homework' exercises from those days. We had to write a diary - seven days in the voice of a non-human. I do like a challenge. Good one for you all to try. This is my attempt. I haven't edited it since so it's as it was. Everyone liked it and thought there should be a sequel! I had great fun writing it. What do you think? Want to share yours?
Monday 23rd July
Oh! What a night! The shame of it. Finally, I realise what a sorry state I’m in. Winter has taken its toll on me.
Last night, a clear one for a change, I suddenly heard among the cat fights a call which sent shivers down my spokes. For a moment I could hardly believe it, but there it was again. The tingly sharp ring from over the wall. That hunky green young mountain bike, all 15 gears of him, was calling to me. To me!
Why he should send his affection my way when I’m old enough to be his mother, is anybody’s guess. Right then I didn’t care, I was too busy working up to a response as I leaned against the fence sighing.
Then it hit me as I struggled to answer his call. I couldn’t make a sound. I tried and tried, but months of neglect has left my communication skills stiff, and rusty.
I am in deep depression.
Hive of activity in the garden today. The warm weather has transformed everyone. Laughter echoes in the air, white arms are exposed to the sun, washing flaps on the line and a frenzy of gardening is taking place.
I was dosing in the warm rays when I was suddenly jolted backwards from my leaning post. My wheels jarred slightly as my owner, Kerry turned me full circle. The shock almost made my chain slip.
“What a state.” Kerry said staring at me. She poked my front tyre with her finger and thumb. “Perhaps I should just trade it in for a new one.” Trade me in! It’s not my fault I look like this. Why can’t I live in the shed. At least I’d stay dry. Now I have rusty wheels and my shiny chrome is covered with an itchy brown scaly substance. A bike with eczema, if you please!
Had a bath! I kid not. Warm water caressed every part of my slender frame. I may be old and rusty, but there’s not an inch of fat on me.
Such attention has put me in a good mood. My rusty wheels were de-scaled, I suppose you’d say.
Kerry has lavished such care on me today. I can almost forgive her for rubbing those hard rusty deposits from me with a Brillo pad! Nothing could have prepared me for the sensation it gave me.
To see my dull chrome begin to shine once again almost made my tyres self inflate. Life is definitely looking up.
There was much swearing today. There was much waving of arms too.
“This blasted cover.” Kelly said struggling with a huge white plastic sheet. She tried in vain to make it fit over me. “There’s nothing to tie it together underneath.” She kept grumbling.
I ended up with string tied in all sorts of strange places to stop the ends of the cover from flapping.
Had an accident today. Not my fault. I wasn’t even on the road. Haven’t been on there for ages. I’m embarrassed to admit it but a huge gust blew right up my white cover and took my wheels from under me. I suppose it could have been worse. I could have ended up in a tornado whirling around in a circle like a barrage balloon over the neighbours gardens. Being a lightweight bike has it’s disadvantages. I bet that hunky specimen over the wall doesn’t have this trouble.
I’m sort of upright again now, though leaning somewhat drunkenly against the fence with a brick on the plastic cover over the back wheel. Hardly elegant.
I can see now why I’ve never been inside the shed before. There’s no room. Planks of wood lean at dangerous angles, shelves bow under the weight of paint cans and tools. The vicious strimmer that whines and destroys everything in its path lives in there among countless dusty flower pots. The upshot is that Kerry has allegedly tidied up to make space for me. I should be pleased but after being shunted this way and that, squeezed between the lawn mower and an old heater I actually miss the outdoors. I never realised how hot it go in here once the sun beat down. Worse still, I share my home with the biggest, long legged spider I have ever seen!
Went out today. I mean really out….on the road.
Kelly was keen to see what I could do. I was incredibly nervous.
It felt very strange having someone sit on my saddle again. Warm, but heavy. I veered a little as Kelly got her balance, then we were off and it all come flooding back. We whizzed down the road and into the main street. My peddles turned surprisingly smoothly. Up into second gear, then into third. My mature disposition doesn’t extend to any higher gear, but I was doing great as the world rushed by in the breeze. We sailed round the corner at speed. There was no stopping us, though hopefully my brakes would if the need arose.
I felt young again, a mere slip of a bike and in my prime.
After such an exhilarating day I decided to try my luck with the bike next door - see if he’s still interested. If he’d seen my performance today he would be most impressed. As I wasn’t returned to the shed I figured this might be my only chance for a time But guess what?. My damn bell is still rusted up. All that hard work and Kelly didn’t check the bell. My love life is in ruins.