My dad left home on my 13th birthday and never came back. One minute he was waving goodbye and the next, he was gone. It was an odd day altogether.
Dad had taken our neighbour,Bert Campling, to the local hospital in the early hours of my birthday morning after Bert had been found staggering home the night before with a bottle of Famous Grouse in one hand and a peculiar looking green growth on the other.
Bert was reknowned in the village as a purveyor of stories. He kept the local pub regulars enthralled with tales of strange encounters with alien beings who scooped him up in their wonderful craft, peformed acts of unbelieveable weirdness upon him before depositing him back upon earth, usually outside the Green Man, where he would be found sprawled amongst the empties by my father. Doctor Rales at the cottage hospital had never seen anything resembling the fungal mass which had been removed from Bert's hand and had sent a sample to the county hospital for analysis.
Villagers in the main were understandably sceptical about Berts' mutterings, but on the morning he was taken to hospital there was an air of trepidation permeating even the most disbelieving of the residents.
Fear had descended over the village like a fog, after a family of travellers disappeared the same night complete with their pony and three dogs.There had been rumours circulating for days, about strange lights appearing over the Common.Villagers in the main were understandably sceptical about Berts' mutterings, but on the morning he was taken to hospital there was an air of trepidation permeating even the most disbelieving of the residents.
On the day of my birthday, Mum had arranged a big party to celebrate my entrance into the 'Teen Age'.
Dad had scooped me up, twirled me round and planted a kiss on my cheek before he got in the car to pick up three of my schoolfriends. As he drove away from the house, I remember him brushing at a small green mark which had appeared on his arm. I had noticed it when he kissed me. I had laughed and told him he must have caught the 'Lurgy' from Bert. I stood at the window watching the bright yellow Hillman Hunter with its black roof, disappear over the hill and saw a pure, the purest, white light on the horizon. Then he was gone.
You've managed to fuse the concepts of illness and a birthday well here - and I think the sentence that sets the tone nicely is 'It was an odd day altogether'. Try reading your piece out loud to yourself - I often find it helps to improve what I write. For example the sentence 'Dad had taken our neighbour,Bert Campling, to the local hospital in the early hours of my birthday morning after he had been found staggering home the night before with a bottle of Famous Grouse in one hand and a peculiar looking green growth on the other.' It's not immediately clear that the 'he' is not your Dad. Reading aloud helps you see it from the perspective of the reader and you might have changed this 'he' to 'Bert'. (Don't forget to put your name at the top of your piece because this is effectively anonymous - though I'm guessing it must be Hilary.)
ReplyDeleteThanks Gary. I have now changed it and agree, it makes the sentence easier to understand. I can absolutely see what you mean as in my head, I know it is Bert, but a reader would have been confused by the original sentence!
ReplyDeleteThe narrative carried me along and I liked the pace. The opening was dramatic and I liked the air of mystery presented by the last sentences. Bags of stuff here for an extended story. Names of the characters were interesting too but I would have liked more phystical description of Bert and Doctor Rales.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed the tone of this, and particularly liked the sentence 'Fear had descended over the village like a fog.' The name of the pub is clever; bearing in mind the theme, it gives an alternative meaning to the usual Pagan one!
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