Tuesday, 16 September 2008

The Writers Group

The University writers group met today. Its only once a month for an hour at lunch time and I always wish it would go on longer. As this is the first meeting after the summer, no one had any homework to read out so we were set a task. First we had to pick a letter from A, B and C. I choose B. Then a letter between A and E which wasn’t the letter we had already chosen. I choose D.
Then she read out what they meant. B was ‘Two people meet on a bridge and one hands the other a package.’ D meant it had to be dealt with in a ‘Horror’ style. We then had 10 minutes to do ‘something’.
Now although I happen to think Stephen King is one of the best writers on the planet, and I’ve thought a lot about horror stories (I hate horror films with a passion) I’ve never written one. Here was my chance.

Tom stood on the bridge, and pulled his hat down against the wind. The water reflected the lights of the restaurants on the banks, but any sound was hidden by the wind as it howled down the gaps between buildings.
No one else was out tonight so when the figure started walking towards him he knew it was who he’d been waiting for.
Dread filled his heart as he saw it carrying a package. Not again. He couldn’t take it any more. When would they release her?
As he approached Tom felt the lump against his breast. He has to end this and end it tonight.
‘Have you got the money?’
‘Of course.’ Tom reached into his coat and pulled out a large padded envelope. But it did not contain money like it had in the past. No, this time he stuck his hand in and pulled the trigger of the gun.
Although it hit him square in the chest he didn’t even sway.
‘You know that won’t effect me, you idiot. Now we’ll just hurt her more.’
He turned to leave, dumping the package at Tom’s feet.
Tom just stood and watched him go. He knew what he’d find in the package and he felt sick.
Pulling a palm top computer from his pocket he hit some keys. The glow of the screen lit his frown of concentration as he looked at the information on the screen.
The gun might not kill them, but it was perfect for placing trackers on them.
Now at last he’d be able to find out where they nest and maybe, just maybe he’d finally be able to help her.

I can’t say it’s any good, but I don’t think it’s so bad; considering we only had 10 minutes and I’d had none of my normal pondering time.
Our homework is to work on it. Hum….not sure where its gonna go, or even if its gonna go at all. Now I shall ponder.

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