F&Outcast... and, strangness of a morning...13:54 Feb 06 2011
Times Read: 976
I awoke at one, or so, wide-awak and momentarily confused. ‘Where was I?’ ‘Who was I?’ and, ‘It was still raining outside?’ Strangely enough, I recalled the rain. That was strange!?! I had pushed the bedclothes off myself and got up and turned the light on. ‘’Quarter-past past one?! That’s what tie it was….’ I noted, looking at the bookshelf above the door and, the clock there. I padded through to the kitchen and drank some milk, checking the time there, as I made a coffee for ‘the morning.’ Even though, ‘the morning’ was about seven hours away, assuming of course that I got to sleep again quickly enough, to wake at “the usual time,” for a Sunday.
Crouching in full-lotus, a shivering to my shoulders, I turned both laptops on and watched a film, on one, as I opened up the other machine’s word-processor abd pulled the keyboard down to my level. I’d gone travelling, I recalled as I wrote, how the day had gone, but slowly, as slowly as my fingers typed, my fingers giving my brain the clarity it sought; and within less than ten mutes or so and, a third of a page of writing; though I did get rapt by the film I was watching ‘F’ a little-British movie, starring. David Scholfied about a teacher who grades a student an ‘F’ and gets thumped for his troubles; and then ‘Eleven Month Later’, The Hoods’, teenagers in hoodies, their faces in black, attack those left in a school late one night. It had been a genuinely creepy, very dark film and, very much ‘of our time.’ It was very good and I sat and listened to the rainfall, wishing I had a whiskey. I had one, or two, while I was out I’d recalled as I thought back to the events of the day. I’d meant to call at Andy’s, before I went to acquire what I wanted. But, loathe to hear anymore of his negativity, so got a bus other than the one taking me the direct way, to Liscard. I’d called where I intended and got what I sought, asked the time. ‘Time to go.’ I left to find it raining hard, which sounded good, as it fell and I began walking, quickly realizing that if I travelled by public transport, I’d not get to Birkenhead in time, to get the train and home for six, as I’d promised my Father. So I walked. It was a walk I’ve done many times. But, as it rained and rained hard, it gave me the opportunity to think, which I’d needed to badly. And, I had thoroughly enjoyed the walk, over the bridges, the water either side of me, as the fail fell, then finally at the station, I’d looked at the town hall clock, to see it was just twenty to five. I was well early, but late, so my Father thought much to my chagrin. So I did as he seemed to want an cooked a really good omelette to get with the smoked fish, with my wet clothes hung up on the maiden. After making a cup of tea, I had gone to my room, to lie down awhile. When I’d opened my eyes, I’d been wide-awake, so decided to type, while watching a film, or two. When I neared the end of my piece, I had also watched ‘Outcast’, made by Colin, Tim and Brendan McCarthy, a British film, although very Scottish: set on a high-rise and was how The Craft is possibly still practised today. It was excellent.
COMMENTS
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NoctusAngelusProcella
17:10 Mar 01 2011
HEY YOU! I was thinking about going back to college! I would like to be a museum curator!