The Writing Group 21st Sept 26

Due to various commitments this was my first attendance at the local writing group for a few weeks. It was nice to be back and see the familiar faces who contribute so much to our lively sessions.

To get us started and creativity warmed up with some mental jogging we were given the prompt to write a short story using as many words as possible beginning with the letter "T" in a couple minutes and as they say on all of the best game shows "Your time starts now":

"T"

Totally tantalisingly Teddy tempted Thomas to try tasting tangerines.

"Are they tasty Teddy?" Thomas asked.

"Thanks for asking Thomas" Teddy replied "they are tasty."

"Tasty enough to have for tea tonight?" Thomas asked.

"Yes" Teddy replied.

"They are truly tasty apart from the skins" Thomas answered.

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The prompt set last week was "Breaking Point".

BREAKING POINT

When life gets tough we all try to convince ourselves that things will get better with that old cliché “What doesn’t break you makes you stronger”. It gives us a sort of vacuous comfort.

    I am not sure which is worse. The physical or mental ones breaking points. What I do know is that just once in my life I was a catalyst for both of them. They ganged up on me.

   Newmarket in the middle of January in itself is enough to break anyone’s spirit. Throw in a rigorous training program at the British Racing School and anyone who goes there voluntarily needs some serious counselling.

   I was the novice, the amateur and rookie in the group. So, to say what I went through from six on the Monday morning through to the Friday lunch time was purgatory would be an understatement. What I went through was a condensed and precipitous learning curve. Riding three lots before breakfast, lunch, gym and five a side football in the indoor school after dinner. All made worse by having never sat in a racing plate before.

   By Wednesday night, I was on my knees physically and mentally. My feeling of incompetence was enhanced by the instructor, Robert. He questioned my sanity, riding ability and my parentage. I so wanted to jack it all in.

   On the Thursday morning my heart, stomach and other vital organs were in my mouth. All because of the fear of getting smoked off with and getting another military style bollocking from Robert, the instructor.

   We headed out to the turf gallop area. He gave the “hack away” instruction. That was the last I heard of him on my headset. The same for the second and third lots. I even checked the battery pack. He is only humouring me and after third lot he’s going to suggest I leave.

   Robert was a man of few words, none of which would be complimentary. I asked him how I did.

   “You forgot Alan, I don’t give praise."

   What doesn’t break you does make you stronger.

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We were given a set of prompts and ha to choose one to write a story about. From the prompts I chose "Park Bench".

PARK BENCH

If it wasn't for Wing Commander Ted King (1948 - 2026) I wouldn't be here and those who sit here can only do so because of him.

Oh I've heard it all over the last ten years. None of it makes me blush anymore. I can't do that anyway because wooden slats and steal frames are devoid of any emotions and expressions.

I've heard it all. Arguments about money. Children being shouted at when they run away. Homeless people begging for change during the day then at night falling asleep, snoring and farting.

I'm sure the old Wing Co hears everything as well. Afterall he was in charge of lots of people and so had to deal with all of the foibles that people call baggage.

But do you know what the worst noise is that I hear. It is the sound of a dog walking towards me, male of course, and stopping. I can hear them sniff one of my legs and "yes" you guessed it.

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This next prompt was to write a "breathless" piece. That is one without any hesitations imposed by punctuation or having to have an intake of breath. The prompt was "The Last Time".

THE LAST TIME

The last time that I had that examination that someone described earlier how little did I know that a a new journey and chapter in my life was about to take place travelling to and from hospital for treatments and giving more samples than athletes do at an Olympics but it was all really strange as this was all happening to me me and yet I felt like I was watching me and looking at myself as that third person who is part of me but not of me which is how the journey ended.

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And so the session ended. The prompt for the next session is "Cross Roads" in approximately three hundred words.