I’ve not ‘played’ Fiction Friday for a while, but I love doing it, so what better way to spend the first Friday lunchtime of the new year? Hopefully this will get me back into the habit of ‘playing’.
The prompt today from Write Anything is: Your character wakes in a circus tent. They are wearing baggy pink pants and a poker dot frilled shirt. A midget in a strong man outfit is shaking them awake asking if they are alright. Here’s where I took it… (remember this is UNEDITED)
‘Jane! Jane! Wake up Jane.’ I come to and turn to the stanger’s voice. ‘Come on Jane, wake up properly. It’s nearly time.’
I blink a few times to try to clear my head. I can’t possibly be seeing what I think I am. I must still be dreaming.
When the blinking doesn’t work, I pinch my arm. I close my eyes again, but when I open them the scene is still the same.
James, my next door neighbor from when I was about five is standing next to a bed I’m lying in, with crazy baggy pink trousers and a poker dot frilled shirt. I’m wearing the same. I look over James’ head (not hard when he’s only 3 foot tall and I’m on a bed almost the same height) to see what I had thought was a room, but in fact is a tent. A large loud yellow tent., with other people milling about.
‘James?’ I ask him. I didn’t know if he’d recognise me, I moved away when I was about six or seven, so hopefully have changed a lot in the ten odd years.
‘Who’s James?’ James asks. ‘We don’t have time for your silly games. We’re going to be late if you don’t get up NOW!’ The loud shout of his final word shocks me. How could such a huge noise come from such a small man? I sit up, but instantly regret it. My head is swims. I feel momentarily sick, proper I’m about to throw up sick, but it passes after a second or two.
‘Jane, are you ok?’ James asks more concerned than he had sounded until this moment.
‘Who’s Jane?’ I wearily ask as I put my hand to my head. What am I doing here? I know I was drunk last night, and it’s not unheard of for me to wake up somewhere strange. But strange was usually my mate’s sofa, or on that one occasion that hot footballer’s bed.
Certainly not a circus with someone I’ve not seen for over ten years calling me a name that isn’t mine and denying who he is. That is some serious drinking I’ve done.
‘Bob! BOB!’ Again the volume of James’ voice surprised me and I jumped. It really hurt my head.
‘What?’ A voice shouted from behind the bed I was now sitting on. ‘Why do you have to be so bloody loud. And why aren’t you out there yet? Mason’s going to kill you two if you don’t get a wriggle on.’
‘Bob, shhhhh. We’ve got more important things to worry about. Look.’ He pointed at me.
A freakishly tall man came round the side of the bed. When I say tall I mean, I’ve never seen anything like it. Honestly he must be about eight foot tall. I gasp.
‘Shit.’ Bob says, and looks down at the guy I’m convinced is James. ‘It’s happened again hasn’t it?’ James smiles tightly and they both look at me.
‘Yep. It’s happened again.’
Well.. there you go. I remember when I first started taking part in Fiction Friday I didn’t really get how to write a short story so my writing was often a clip from something which should have been much bigger (although I never did anything with any of the ‘extracts’). It would seem that’s the way my mind worked today too.
Please let me know what you think. Happy Weekend!