Monday, 11 October 2010

Peter: Birthday in Dubrovnik


As we waded through the stinking sewers of Dubrovnik, I thought with disgust.  “What a place to end  your birthday.  Bitterly regretted my folly, my vanity for allowing that stupid  bitch Natasha to coax me into a glimpse of  the stolen sparkler.  ‘Only a peep,’ she purred,  sipping at her her sixth glass of pink champagne, as we celebrated in the Stradum Café. Heady with slivovitz, like a fool I gave in.  Next moment she snatched at it and sped away.    Silly bitch,  slipped on the wet  curb.  The diamond jumped from her hand,  bounced onto the road and slipped down the manhole.   I was in dead trouble.  In fact if I didn’t find it tonight,  I would soon be dead. 

Now here I was, splashing about in sewage up to my knees with man who was as old as the  hills,   Yussef  Mahmoud.  His  white fez covering a bald head, he was agitatedly rubbing his grey  moustache as he led me through endless tunnels.  His ancient lantern swinging  in his bony left  hand casting a sour glow on the streaming wet walls. A sheep drover in Australia in his youth, he had sworn to me  in a Montenegrin/Australian accent, he knew the sewers  “like the baack of mi haand”.    It had cost me  a fortune to hire him.

Eventually at a junction of several conduits he paused.   A rat swam by.  Water dripped onto my face.   “ We below  the  Stradum, mister,”  he said with a laboured smile .Stretching his scrawny neck, he peered up at a manhole in a dark couloir.   “This is weeel bee the plaaace..” I stared down at the thick  brown, soupy water,  winced then plunged my hand in forcing  myself to feel methodically  along the slimy  bottom.  Working side by side, we slowly advanced.  Nothing but a few rusty nails, bits of broken glass and crushed tin cans.  Yussef gestured going forward beyond the couloir.   My hand suddenly  felt something large and  solid, fingers working carefully  around the shape  - a boot?.   “It’s a foot!  A foot!  I gasped

3 comments:

  1. I had to look up the meaning of couloir which is a steep narrow gully,perfect representation.
    It is interesting that he was carrying an ancient lantern as prior to that sentence I immediately thought 'cold war period' for some reason, but of course he would have been carrying a torch. The lantern fits the character of Yussef perfectly, but in a time of pink champagne, would a torch be more prescient?

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  2. I like this. It's well-written and woven round a opening which we thought sounded implausible but which has provided a clever story.

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  3. If I didnt know who this was by, and hadn't already heard about Peter's exploits in Dubrovnik, I would guess this was Peter, which must be a good thing. Some clever writing - 'I was in dead trouble. In fact if I didn’t find it tonight, I would soon be dead.' but care must be taken - there are a lots of awkward sentence constructions. See if you can improve 'His ancient lantern swinging in his bony left hand casting a sour glow on the streaming wet walls.' and 'I stared down at the thick brown, soupy water, winced then plunged my hand in forcing myself to feel methodically along the slimy bottom.'

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