CREATIVE WRITING

Below is another piece written for my Creative writing module, this piece was written in an attempt to include as many writing angles as possible, by using the words. I, You, They, He, ect, It is possible to make the reader see the story from different points of view. I wrote the exert below in an attempt to include as many of these possible angles in one short piece.

Herding Cats

I stand still, the music thumping in my ears, reverberating around my skull, looking down I see my bottle is empty and smashed glass lies at my feet. I look up. She blinks she smiles, she looks down into her glass also. Nothing is said but the feeling is mutual. I raise my eyebrows into a look that says ‘typical’. She reflects it back. They dance a solitary dance, three friends engaged in combat, a dance of rapid turns, flailing arms, high fives, shaking hips, monotonous steps. Back and forth back and forth in a drunken swagger. Three men in their Sunday best, in their own little world. A solo performance on an empty stage, unaware of the on looking audience, though what do they care? High heels, short skirts, tight tops, flesh, fake tan. Who are all these orange people? My best friend looks at me a mix of emotions displayed in one glance. A look that says I’m having the time of my life but I just want to go home to my warm bed. We’ve all been there before, the one that was one, two, many. Outside the fresh air rips through our lungs that sharp breath in and then out onto the cold pavements. A girls cries out, an ear-piercing scream, but she is nowhere to be seen. Men heckle and glass smashes, but they are nowhere to be seen. The sinister orange glow of the identical kebab shops that line the strip, floodlight the street. One of the three friends runs out across the road narrowly missing a passing taxi yet still manages to scream the word ‘casino’ rather than display any sense of fear. A second friend follows but gets distracted by a near by raised bush, stumbling towards it he breaks into a run. ‘Steve don’t . . .’ too late, Steve hurls himself into a perfect horizontal belly flop dive, arms spread eagle no twitch or flinch, rigid. and with a rustle and a thud disappears into the undergrowth. I turn to the last man standing ‘I feel sick’ he says quite innocently with a smile spreading over his face. Who are these people? the connection is so vivid, im like a mother trying to work out the world of the cardboard box her child is hiding in. I turn to her once again, the same look as before a slight raise of the eyebrows, If only she knew how much I wanted to kiss her right now. Unfortunately I have to go herd some cats.