Postaday2011:Running out of subjects.

So how do you decide what to write about? Prompts are ok but when they are totally irrelevant to your life, they are not much use. I could spout endlessly about my day and my family but although they are everything to me, it might be a trifle boring to other people. The trouble is, my life is pretty uneventful, and I know some people might say that’s really good, but when it comes to blogging it doesn’t give me much scope for subjects to write about. I know, maybe I should write a fantasy blog, where I become the heroine of a great adventure.  Hmmm that might take some dreaming up, but then…. I am a writer.

I woke this morning late, I had woken earlier and seen the clock showing 6.30. Wonderful at least another ninety minutes in bed before I really must start my day. I slept, not the deep silent sleep of the tired but that fitful dreamful sleep of the restless. I wandered corridors and met people I had long forgotten, replayed scenes from my childhood. I saw myself, the small child hiding in the corner and trying desperately to avoid both the classroom bullies and the eyes of the teacher who like nothing better to single me out and make a fool out of me… I didn’t like that dream. In my dreamy state I decided to change it… What if I could control my dreams? What if I could control my life? I could see no reason why it was not possible so I focussed on the little girl in the corner. The teacher asked one of the bullies a question.. she was unable to answer. Slowly I put my hand up. ‘Answer the question if you can!’ the tone was intimidating but I was in control. I answered correctly, not only that I added some information that the teacher never knew. She flustered and moved away to ask another question. Again I put my hand up. No one else had an answer and she was forced to look at me again. I answered correctly. This continued for the whole of my lesson and by the end I was so really pleased with myself.

However I was not contented with just showing the bully teacher I was clever. I switched my dream and became the teacher. The child at the back was a difficult child who failed to respond to the lesson. Her clothes were not terribly clean and she was a bit of a loner. I picked a subject that I felt everyone would know about. The girl never answered, she spent her time scribbling on her notebook, drawing little pictures. At the end of the lesson I called for the books to be handed in. That night I marked the answers to everything I had asked. The girl at the back hadn’t written a word but carefully, beside each number was a tiny drawing that showed a picture of the answer… and I realised that somehow, this child had slipped through the net and was having difficulty reading and writing. No wonder everyone had thought her stupid, no wonder she had been unable to join in… I arranged time after school for some reading classes and took her right back to the beginning with picture books, simple words then little stories. Within a few weeks she flew, her reading took off and her writing skills  developed tremendously. I had triumphed and everything changed for this child. She became popular because she was really clever only now she was able to articulate clearly and write amazing stories.

I switched my dream back , this time I took everything I had learned with me. As the teacher asked me to answer a question I stood up and said clearly. ‘I don’t understand the question,Miss, ‘ She never answered. I sat down. The girls that had been bullying me sat quietly. The teacher became angry and began shouting, ‘Answer me girl!’.

‘She don’t understand , Miss. You can’t make her answer if she don’t know.’ The teacher’s attention remained on me.. I held my breath. ‘ I can’t answer that question, I am sorry.’ She looked round at the other students and each of them glared back at her. The bell went for lunch.

The alarm clock rang into my dream… Heaven knows where I was going with this story but I seem to think that if we could all be honest with ourselves then the rest of the world would fall into place…maybe a story I could develop further.. now it is time for bed…

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2 Responses so far »

  1. 1

    Shame the story ended there…I was really engrossed!

    • 2

      Marie Fullerton said,

      Thank you Carole, it is what was expected as a short story, a snapshot in time that tells a longer story… Once I get started there is no stopping me.. Hoe you are keeping well. M


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