So I have another writing prompt from ages ago for you.
Although I am genuinely terrified of creating expectations in people when I now have no further content to share with you. At most, most recently I wrote a ‘Word Polaroid’ (haha, Polaroid! I should call it that…) which is when I describe people I see very briefly in the street, as best as I can.
I do this mainly because I am terrible at inventing the telling physical make-up of my fictional characters. I avoid this trait of fiction so much that I should probably write for radio.
Technically, I “failed” this prompt… but meh.
Found iPod with half rap, half classical music on it on the Tube. Introduce the owner as a story character but do not mention music.
There comes a time in the life of every victim of bullying where the white hot hatred of your oppressors makes you almost murderously bold.
I had no idea they were tracking me to the music shop and back. I had been saving up my allowance to buy three beautifully wax-paper wrapped cakes of resin. By the time they were done I could smell that august sweetness like thick powdered sugar in the air and the iron dark tang of blood on the street.
My only thought was: Thank God I left my violin at home.
Nonetheless I got up and got the Tube home. When I got home I realised my iPod was gone.
The violin was a thing of beauty that in fairness I would probably die to protect. It was my Welsh grandfather’s and had been spirited away into the attic in a dusty sarcophagus until I expressed the desire to learn how to play one. It stuck out in class. It was dark mahogany and its tone was deep. I had minor fits of panic every time I loosened and tightened the strings with the pegs. It deserved only the best resin on its bow so it would sing properly.
And now I’d failed myself and it.
That was the first day I cranked up Gangster’s Paradise* and kicked my room up into a shit heap, because it made me feel better than the sounds and curves of the violin. Then I calmed down and the rage came out in words and fuelled my resolve.
I would conceive a revenge as sweet as the resin that lay smashed like pieces of rock crystal.
Like diamonds from Sierra Leone.**
(© Copyright Pola Negri, November 2014.)
*Gangster’s Paradise, Coolio and L.V with Stevie Wonder sample (1994-95)
**Diamonds from Sierra Leone, Kanye West, (2005.)