Month: May 2015

Everyday fictions

The fiction
Apologies for R’s late arrival at school. She was feeling queasy in the early morning but felt well enough to come in later.

The truth
R had a mini existential crisis revolving around an unfinished assignment. She persuaded her mother to let her stay home and complete it. Her mother made her a cup of tea, came up with an advertising slogan, shaded in a poster and, several hours later, drove R to the train station. Unfortunately when R got to school, she found the teacher was, once again, away sick. R thinks the teacher is pregnant. And as she keeps coming to school, vomiting, and going home that may well be the case.

The fiction
Please excuse R’s late arrival at school. She missed her train.

The truth
R took the opportunity of her older sister’s absence to ransack her room. (Many things were found. None of them the desired black jacket) The resultant lack of the good hair straightener led to a hair emergency which necessitated a quick trip to Woolies for hair ties.

The fiction
R has been battling a debilitating flu and was unable to attend her eisteddfod solo.

The truth
R has been sick, but she was sufficiently well enough to dance. However, she stayed up all night talking to a boy she is not sure that she likes but who, nevertheless, is very entertaining. When woken at 6.30 in the morning, she mumbled something and went back to sleep in much the manner of a bear returning to hibernation. Her mother went back to sleep too. It was Sunday morning. The eisteddfod was an hour’s drive away and it was dark and cold.


Wise words from Wendell Berry

(to remind myself)

Make a place to sit down.
Sit down. Be quiet.
You must depend upon
affection, reading, knowledge,
skill — more of each
than you have — inspiration,
work, growing older, patience,
for patience joins time
to eternity. Any readers
who like your poems,
doubt their judgment.

Breathe with unconditional breath
the unconditioned air.
Shun electric wire.
Communicate slowly. Live
a three-dimensioned life;
stay away from screens.
Stay away from anything
that obscures the place it is in.
There are no unsacred places;
there are only sacred places
and desecrated places.

Accept what comes from silence.
Make the best you can of it.
Of the little words that come
out of the silence, like prayers
prayed back to the one who prays,
make a poem that does not disturb
the silence from which it came.

(Found via the inspirational Brain Pickings)