Pull Me Up On Your Stupid Boat

The bottle of wine Noelle got for ten bucks is already empty. She’s not too concerned because it was a two for one deal and there’s plenty left in the second bottle. Everyone else is gone, was already gone out somewhere when she got in from another night of doodling at the library, occasionally stopping to scribble in her notebook or type something to seem like she was doing homework.

Her phone chirps with a notification: Dani Laurent and 5 others have checked in at Chuck’s Tavern.

“Fan-friggin-tastic,” Noelle slurs as she attempts to toss the phone on the table. It clatters to the floor and the back comes off. She reaches down to gather it up and it takes 5 minutes to line up the little pegs and click it back into place. “Damn childproof…” she mumbles, trailing off as sudden inspiration hits her.

She stumbles down the hall after dropping the bottle on the couch, dodging discarded glitter shirts and spilled drinks from the girls getting ready to leave, until she reaches her room. Sitting at the shaky desk she opens her lap top and runs the home movie program. The camera turns on and she stares at herself in the frame. Bloodshot eyes try to focus on her place on the screen and her hair is a big halo of uncombed, unwashed, curls. She presses RECORD and the haze seems to fade.

“You know, when I met you guys, you were the kind of people I always wanted to be friends with. The kids who do whacky shit and don’t care, yet still get their crap done, a little group, a clan of cool weirdoes who lit up this whole town.”

Noelle paused as her mind went into overdrive compiling a list of things the wine thought needed to be said.

“You’re all watching me drown. I know you are. You can’t say ‘no Elley we aren’t what are you talking about you’re totally on the couch and whatnot’ because I am legit drowning and you clowns won’t pull me up on your stupid boat. Your little stupid Shiny People Boat where everybody is shiny and sparkly and…and whatever,” she said, losing her train of thought.

“I’m drunk in case you can’t tell. I started at about nine this morning after I ate your cereal. Quick question: is it really a start if you were already hung over? That’s a rhetorical philosophical question in case you couldn’t tell…idiots.”

She surprises herself with a burp and leans her head to one shoulder before readjusting her position.

“I listen to all of your voices yapping about how you’re soooo grown up now, you’re twenty-one and you’ve got all your shit together. You aren’t a “babysitter”. Well you know what? YOU are the baby. Constantly one-upping the next person on how self-sufficient you think you are while failing to notice you have no clue how to function without instruction.”

Noelle paused as some part of her brain sent out little pings of “Hypocrite! Hypocrite!” as if an alarm system had been triggered.

“None of us know what we’re doing,” she mumbled, “but am I the only one scared by that?”

To be continued….

Link

An eerie children’s tale for The Fox Magazine July 2014 Issue

An eerie children’s tale for The Fox Magazine July 2014 Issue.

“Everyone knew the meadow was there. It was no secret. But no one knew about The Tree….”

read more at:

http://thefoxmagazine.blogspot.com/2014/07/noemis-delicate-gardens-by-ariel.html

Writing 101: Stream of Consciousness: 12 minutes

She came into the room with no expectation of finding the person she was looking for. It was a stupid move really, she had caught sight of a man strolling through the jewelry section of Woolworth’s and had taken to him. His face was classic Americana handsome. He wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of a folk album. So what was he looking for in the glimmering cases? She trailed him from a distance and lost him as he went down the escalator into the cafe and cafeteria on the lower level. Buon Appetito was crowded for the afternoon lunch rush with a mass of shoppers, workers from neighboring offices, and a few employees eating bag lunches. She weaved through throngs of people standing and talking, tables littered with wrappers and people paying more attention to their phones than their table mates until finally she caught a glimpse of his green and brown tweed jacket. He was standing in a small line of people waiting for the Coke vending machine. She walked up behind him and pretended to be in line. “Pretty crowded today eh?” She said, smiling at him when he turned around. “Yup.” He said and turned back around. This is just going great she thought to herself, of course it’s crowded what am I saying. She………….
She
Where is this going meeting for?? Love story? Focusss

The line moved and he was choosing a cherry coke. It was the last one.
“Got the last one, hmph!” she said, mock angry.
“Oh did you want it?” he said.
She waved her hand, “No, no I’m getting a regular. Too much cherry this week. Ah ha-ha.”

blah blah

From Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice to Donna Tartt’s The Secret History: 25 of the best books ever written by women

Metro

Books comp 1

With the winner of this year’s Baileys Prize soon to be announced, we’ve been discussing our favourite books written by female authors.

From Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice to Donna Tartt’s The Secret History, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein to Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl, there were plenty of novels we all read and loved.

Here are 25 of the best books written by women…

1. To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee

You only need to look at the outcry following Michael Gove’s ‘banning’ of To Kill A Mockingbird to see how highly regarded the novel is by so many. An emotive and inspiring work tackling the issue of racial inequality, there’s a reason this book is a classic.

2. The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood

This dystopian novel, set in a near future where a Christian dictatorship has replaced the United States government, is a favourite among English literature students (myself included). Haunting.

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Quote

I should practi…

I should practice more- I need to practice more- I WILL practice more. I will, I will.

Aside

I’m a huge fan of having a special bubble to write in. The kind of bubble where you can see the world around you but not become so distracted by it as to stop writing mid-sentence. People watching through a bubble with two-way mirrors. Of course, there’s a way to cloud the mirror for when you need to see nothing in front or around you but your hand poised over the keyboard or notebook. My ideal writing space is elusive. I am constantly either too solitary or too in the thick of other people’s interactions. How do you find space to write in a crowd?

Puppet Strings

Pulling me in all directions, yes they’ve got me contorted and stretched beyond comprehension.

What do I believe-Who do I like-Why am I standing here-How can I stand this or that

I am fluid, easing into one shape and then another in a matter of seconds-two different people in one and neither is in control of the body.

A mind pulled in all directions but still lucid enough to remember the days before the strings

-and where they hid the scissors.

 

 

 

Currently Listening To:

 

I really like this artist and this song. Has anyone else listened to her album in full?