I havent updated for a while and I don’t want to end up neglecting this blog again like I have been known to do in the past, so in absence of any real type of update I offer you an excerpt from that book what i’m writing that I told you about ages ago and that. It’s coming along actually, slowly but it’s getting there. Six chapters to be precise. Actually its almost the length of my dissertation and was much easier to write i might add. I am planning a comedy based video blog that you can expect no later than the weeks end…maybe.
In the mean time enjoy this passage of text. Feel free to critique it according to your opinions.
William looked around the room and was pleasantly surprised; it was actually quite a nice room, for an interrogation room anyway. I’m so glad I’m not in that cell he thought. He had more or less managed to put the horrible vision of the future out of his mind. William thought about how much trouble he might actually be in. He stared at the carpet, his mind decided to pluck out a memory from his childhood, he was 11 and playing in his garden during the summer holidays. He smiled as he remembered how easy it used to be. He was playing a game of his own invention but designed for two. At either ends of the patio were two very symmetrically placed drain covers. William had drawn chalk targets on both of them. He had a pile of stones that he had collected next to both drains and would go about throwing a stone to each drain in turn. It took time as he walked back and forth between the drains but that didn’t matter. It gave him time to conduct the commentary for this event in his head. He had assigned a score of two points for hitting the drain area outside of the chalk target and a score of five points for landing a stone within the drawn circle. Currently the version of himself on the left side of the patio was winning by five points. The right sided patio version of William had to make this shot to draw level. It was a tense moment. The commentator in his head remarked “ He does seem to buckle under the pressure at times.” William lined up his stone. He wiped the sweat from his brow, squinted and just a split second before he threw he heard his mother’s shrill voice calling his name “William!” He jumped, and the stone missed landing on the lawn. His mother appeared from the backdoor. “ William Sandra is here for a cup of coffee” his mother said “ Dale’s here too, you can play your little game with him now.” his mother raised her eyebrows while grinning. William was too young to know the word patronising, but eventually he would be able to file that word along side his mothers eyebrow-grin in his vocabulary. His mother went inside and Dale emerged from the doorway with his hands in his pockets. William had known Dale for some years due to his mother’s friendship with Dales mother. He didn’t like Dale very much though. Normally he would come round and get all of William’s toys out, bore easily and move on to something else. Normally when Dale had to leave William was left with a terrible mess to clean up.
Luckily though they were in the garden and his parents didn’t really care about the state of the garden. William looked at Dale standing at the other end of the Patio. He was wearing shorts with socks pulled up as far as they would go and black shoes. William could only assume they were his school shoes, Why he was wearing those William was not sure. His t-shirt had a picture of a yellow and red chequered American style taxicab with a happy face on the bonnet. William wasn’t exactly winning any prizes for most fashionable kid but he knew the sort of thing he had to wear to avoid ridicule. If any kids from school saw Dale wearing what he was wearing, there was a good chance it could stick with him throughout the remainder of his school years. William even thought he could probably earn some popularity points for himself by informing some of the other kids of Dales attire. Maybe, he thought.
“What are you playing?” Dale said. “ I’m just trying to hit the targets with the stones” William replied. “Ok that sounds fun” Said Dale.
With reluctance William evened out the stones between himself and Dale. He wiped away the scores he had been keeping with a chalk tally by spiting on them and rubbing his shoe over them. He explained the score system to Dale and they began to play. About five minutes into the game William was frustrated. Dale was winning. And not just by a little, by twenty six points. William just couldn’t hit the chalk circle, he could hit the drain, his two pointers were all that was keeping him in the game. Dale hit a fiver pointer. William got two. Dale threw another fiver. “Yip, yip, yip!” Dale celebrated. William this time missed the drain all together. “ Deary me” Laughed dale “That was terrible.” Dale managed to throw another five. This time he left his arm in the air after the throw and started pushing the air upwards with his palm. “Whoop, whoop, whoop!”
How could someone like dale be so good at this, William thought. He’s a little Gaylord. William had grown tired of this game and wanted a new way to amuse himself. He looked to his left a saw a plastic watering can. He then looked at the pile of stones that dale had very neatly assembled next to his drain. I’ll throw the watering can and destroy his stockpile he thought, and then we’ll play swingball or something. William grabbed the watering can by its spout and aimed for, Dale’s stones.
The can hit Dale square in the nose. Dale fell backwards, as he brought his head up, William saw blood. He saw Dales surprise and confusion over the incident turn to tears. He could see that transformation and with it came the realisation that Dale would immediately seek out his mother. The direct consequence of this was that William’s mother would also find out what had happened. It was an accident William thought. No one would see it like that though. If William tried to explain that he was aiming for the stones rather than Dales nose, his mother would simply retort with “What the hell were you doing throwing the bloody watering can in the first place, I despair of you sometimes William, I really do.”
He knew he was for it no matter what. William tried in vain to talk Dale out of entering the house and seeking his mother’s comfort, but Dales mind was made up. Dale sobbing and bleeding from his nose pushed past William. William walked back to his drain and sat cross-legged on the floor. He hung his neck out and flicked a few stones onto the grass. He waited there, knowing that his mother was coming any moment now. knowing that no explanation would placate his mother. Knowing that he was in trouble because he had done something stupid, and he had to face up to the consequences.
The door clicked open. William once again snapped out of his daydream. A young looking police officer stood in the doorway, he had a file in one hand and a plastic cup of coffee in the other. He took a sip from his coffee and looked William up and down. He then glanced at the file under his arm and remarked “William Gerald Stott.” William winced at the sound of his name being read aloud and thought please god don’t let me go prison. The young officer entered the room and pushed the door shut.
It closed with a loud slam.
