Each month we choose a work by one of us to allow you to see a sample of our writing. This month we have a piece by Alan that truly illustrates what creative writing is all about. Last Before Dawn: The diary of an early rising cobbler. Saturday “Glass slippers are not for every day!” I’d said, “you’ll do yourself a nasty,” I’d said “or cause someone else a real oops-a-daisy,” I’d said. Of course she took no notice did she; who did I think I was? She was a princess; me, I’m a cobbler. But at least my cobbler’s shop isn’t mortgaged to the laces like her father-in-law’s flamin’ castle. Well, now it’s different isn’t it; it’s happened, more or less as I feared. Dancing a galop she was; what did she expect! Glass slippers are not made for dancing galops. Lost the heel she did; snapped off like an icicle in a tornado. There in the middle of the dance floor, stuck in the under-floor heating grill with people bounding onto it. The floor was covered in shredded feet; dance floor like a huge plate of breakfast cereal mashed with strawberries. Sunday Why me? Am I the only cobbler in the castle? I ask you, am I the only…………………yes; I’m the only cobbler in the castle. And what does she want, this ex scrubber, this usurper of princes, this, this ex-cinder groveler, she wants new slippers by morning; tomorrow morning;so what time must I be up? Three, that’s when: steamin’ three o’clock. I’ll have to give the sun an early morning call. Monday Well, I made it, or them I suppose. Beautiful: fitted like a glove; well, sock I guess. But was she happy; was she happy? Was she…….. No. They’re too soft; don’t give her the support of the glass slipper; there’s too much red in the purple……………….the toes are……………………on and on; then I met this strange old bird coming out of the nursery; said she was the princess’s fairy god mother: asked me to make her a pair of slippers. “When for,” I asked. “Tomorrow morning,” she said. Steamin’ three o’clock start again! “What size,” I says. “Fairy size,” she says, waves her wand and bloomin’ vanishes. Have you ever felt the world was against you? Tuesday Now, she was happy. Fitted her perfectly she said. Then she asked if I would fancy the post as FFF. ‘Course I hadn’t a clue what the old bat was on about but apparently the fairies wanted a new cobbler or, as they called it a ‘Fashioner of Fairy Footwear’. Naturally, I asked about salary and she said they would pay me in luck. There was only one drawback. All shoes, slippers, or fairy-boots had to be made twixt midnight and sunrise. I said I was getting used to that anyway so we had a contract. Wednesday Busy? Stone me, I’ve had ‘em all; fairies is only a starter! Came in droves they did, fairies, sprites, elves, gremlins, imps, a bloomin’’ great genie carrying his lamp under his arm, gnomes, gremlins, two leprechauns and a goblin. The wife says it’s like Pixidilly Circus. Thursday Night shift cobbler that’s me. Still, in the winter it will be better; sunrise isn’t ‘til after breakfast. But I mustn’t grumble; today I won the castle lottery. A hundred groats isn’t bad; I guess I was lucky, well, very lucky, especially since I didn’t buy a ticket. Friday So I’m sitting by my fire having a kip and there’s this thunder clap, well that’s what I thought it was but it turned out to be a knock on the workshop door. Dirty great Chinese giant it was, said his name was Fee Fie Foe Fum; wanted a pair of seven league boots he did. Now, apart from needing a couple of cows-worth of leather there was the small problem of the magic content. But he said it was his feet that did the magic; all he needed was the boots; by tomorrow morning. Said he had a problem with someone called Jack and simply buzzed off. Saturday Well, they say a week in politics is a long time; try being a cobbler I say. Try being a cobbler! Fee Fie Foe Fum turned up, seemed happy with his boots and left a pot of gold. Said he’d retrieved it from this Jack bloke and as it had caused him so much trouble I could keep it. I think I’ll buy the flamin’’ castle; at least I know someone who can cope with fireplace cinders. Next month’s task is set by Bill who will be in the chair on the last Thursday in July. Write an original composition, using no more than 750 words, in any form of creative written expression. In your submission correctly use each of the words or phrases below. A lick and a promise praxis Agaric stringent Contraband lunar Billow serendipity Mendacious zither Quandary demagogue Bye for now, Love to see you in TheLighthouse second and last Thursday of each month at 7.45pm.Regards Bill.
Posted on: Mon, 15 Jul 2013 08:33:15 +0000
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