I think it was September time last year when feeling a little lacking in oomph with my writing, I had Google generate a list of twenty random words, each to be a stimulus to write. The first, funnily enough , was ‘last’ and although I could have written about a cobbler’s last, I decided to write about something being the last – in this case it was a group of students going out together for the last time. I was quite pleased with it, less pleased with the next one, donkey. In a way it should have been easier because of course a donkey is a creature, and there are many phrases and sayings about donkeys, but I wrote about donkey stones. They are a block made from grit and dust and powdered stone which could be used to scrub and clean floors, window sills, doorsteps etc.
I had decided to write in the random order the list had appeared, so I didn’t choose ‘easy’ words or leave ‘difficult ones to the end. Spiffy (a nick-name) lumber (clearing out a dusty attic/lumber room), taboo (a nightclub story based on a real event) all flowed rather well, but then heat, carriage, needless, wasteful and way. really took some thinking about. Heat was a reminiscence of a holiday in the south of France, carriage was a postwar romance, and needless and wasteful merged into a single story inspired by memories of working in a hotel kitchen.
On the whole I’m quite pleased with what I have written so far. The next three are ruin – maybe too many ideas are buzzing, comb – how can I make that less dull than it sounds, and purpose which will be a struggle. I think I may pull them all together, and if I ever solve my technical difficulties I’ll publish them as a small anthology. These technical difficulties have meant that the latest and possible last Thomas Radwinter book remains unpublished.
I have shared this before, but here is the first episode of that book, possibly to be called Spindrift. Thomas Radwinter, driving home, has come to an unexpected and abrupt emergency stop:
All I could hear was the car alarm almost deafening me. I was engulfed by the airbag and so shocked I could barely think what to do.
Then the door was opened and someone was shouting was I alright. Yes, actually I do believe I was. I managed to take the key out of the ignition and undo the seatbelt and crawl out of the car. I was on my hands and knees and someone was helping me up asking again if I was alright. Winded and a bit shocked but yes, unharmed… and my car? Yes, that also was completely unscratched, unbumped, undamaged… which was more than could be said for the deceased beast which lay in the carriageway, its dead legs stiffly in the air, its dead eyes looking accusingly at me.
I was in no way responsible, I assured it silently.
A crowd had gathered and it too was silent, phones out, taking pictures and videos of the extraordinary scene.
“Oi, you!” I turned to face an aggressive kid of about twenty addressing me. “What the fuck did you stop for?”
I pointed wordlessly at the dead cow, being still in shock and unable to think of a reply which wouldn’t sound sarcastic or aggressive.
“Fucking twat!! Why didn’t you drive round it!!”
I guess adrenalin was pumping because from being in a dazed shock I was suddenly suffused with a total rage.
“You stupid little Herbert! It wasn’t just lying there in the road, it fell from the sky, right there in front of me! I’m damned lucky I didn’t drive straight into it!”
And I took a step towards him ready to do goodness knows what and he unexpectedly quailed back. In retrospect I must have seemed mad, a cow falling from the sky and a dead cow at that, all stiff with its rigid legs pointing heavenwards and that accusing look in its glazed eye.
The bloke stepped back from me with a strange expression, almost of fear on his face.
“Sorry guv, sorry mate, yeah I was driving too close, my fault,” he said waving his hands in a placatory fashion.
Gosh, I didn’t know I was so intimidating!
“OK, no harm done…” I said severely, I didn’t want to lose my advantage, whatever that was. I stood watching him jump in his car, reverse and gently drive round me with an ingratiating smile and a friendly wave.
I returned to the dilemma and puzzle of the dead cow. A group of people had now gathered, inevitably taking pictures. I returned to the front of my car; it was literally inches from the creature and I got my phone out to ring the police and my garage to recover my vehicle, wondering what the insurance company would say and how much it would cost to have the airbag replaced.
I must have been in somewhat of a state and couldn’t really take in the full absurdity of the situation. Weird things do seem to happen to me!
Lois Elsden 