Seasons - Part 1

        Hello there! I'd like to welcome you to the blog's 50th post! It's a year old this month and is doing far better in terms of views and feedback than I ever thought it would be. I just wanted to say a massive thank you to everyone who's ever looked at the blog, read a post, commented, offered an opinion or anything. I adore you. 

        So, It's Friday, once again and I have to be creative. It is no secret in the writing world that some days, we just don't have the right juices flowing - so when one day I can come out with something like brushes from nowhere in particular, this week, I am struggling. Maybe I'm tired, maybe it's the heat - but without any speculation, I definitely have been feeling the effects of writer's lock today. I thought instead of trying to come up with something completely new each week, maybe it's time to write something serialised again, like The Following - at least then I have some ground work to go from each week. So, that being said:

http://www.cotonmanor.co.uk/wild_flower_meadow.php

       'There once was a man from Bermuda -'

       'Who idolised Henry Tudor-'

       'He married six women -'

       'To fold up his linen -'

       'And if one wouldn't, he sued her.'

       'Ha, nice. What a douche though.'

       'Yeah, proper douche. At least Henry just beheaded 'em - way cheaper.'

       'Right?'  We laughed distractedly. 

      We were laying lazily in the meadow behind my house, passing away the long summer days by talking about things that weren't important that we wouldn't remember the next day. The grass was a perfect length and the sun was drifting through the trees, grazing our cheeks and casting strange shadows over our T-shirts. Our arms and legs were dirty from diving onto the grass to stop the other scoring goals. James was picking daisies one by one and plucking the petals delicately from their heads. There was a small discarded pile of stalks next to him. I was picking blades of grass and watching them sway in the breeze; imagining a woman dancing with her lover in the moonlight. My head was resting on James' middle - his propped up on our backpacks.

        The remnants of our lunch was strewn across the floor, the breeze not being able to muster the energy to fling it across a wider radius. I let go of my blade of grass and watched it fall daintily to the floor. I looked further to the left, my eyes finding it difficult to focus after all the running around in the sun, and the huge picnic James had acquired mostly from his mum's pantry without her knowing. I sat up when I saw a ladybird balancing in their usual clumsy yet delicate fashion on the very tip of a bending blade of grass. I put my finger beneath it and it climbed on. I turned towards James, brandishing my finger complete with its new accessory.

        'Look'

      'Lemme see? Move it closer.' He put his finger to mine, allowing the tiny bug to wander onto his extended fingers, stained yellow by the centres of the daisies. He raised his hand to his face, mine still hovering in the air. He stared at it for a moment, a strange smile playing across his lips. Eventually, he snapped his thumb onto the tip of his finger, crushing the bug - giving it no time to contemplate moving. 

        It took me a moment to realise what he'd done. I didn't look away from his fingers when I asked him; 

        'What did you do that for?' My voice full of child-like uncertainty. He shrugged.

         'Felt like it. I dunno, it was weird, I was just looking at it, and then I just got the impulse to just...do it. So I did.' My eyes remained focused on his fingers. He opened them, revealing shards of red shell littered with black dots. The wings were separate to the body they'd once supported, yet the bug was still held together by its own insides. I looked sheepishly up at James, he seemed fascinated by the sticky dead creature which dirtied his hand. He stared, transfixed for a moment - a hard expression contaminating his adolescent features. After a while, he blinked and wiped the bug onto the corner of the rug we were using as a picnic blanket. Without saying a word, he returned to his previous position and picked a fresh daisy, pulling mercilessly at its petals - what had previously seemed like idle behaviour now seemed utterly barbaric to me. Nonetheless, I resumed my position with my head on his belly.

          I have to admit - I thought making my creative day Friday would put an end to this super late uploading nonsense, but alas - it has not. Still, it's still Friday in the UK for 2 minutes, so I feel like I've nearly achieved something. Well, I hope you enjoyed this, and that you've had a great week. I saw both Monster's University and The World's End yesterday, being as it was my dad's birthday and all that, so after much debate and some good advice from my friend Ryan, I shall be reviewing both on Tuesday. (Or TWOsday if you will - haw haw haw.)

               

                Have a great weekend and thanks for reading! Laura

                                                                                       xoxoxox