5 Minute Rambles




Invisible


The radio came on at the usual time. She rolled over, put her right arm under her pillow and her left on top. Then she sighed. Next to her the bed was cold. Typical, she thought, he could’ve woke me.

It took her less than ten minutes to get herself vertical, pull on the grey, fluffy dressing gown and clean her teeth. That done, she turned to face her morning expression in the poorly lit mirror. What the f…, she thought. She blinked and looked again. Nothing. Well, not nothing exactly. She could see the dressing gown reflected clearly enough, the watch too, on her left wrist. But that was it. She looked down at her feet. They were there, but then, so were her hands. In the mirror, however, there was nothing. Am I vampire? Not a completely stupid first thought. After all, she lived on a TV diet of True Blood and Being Human. She had an idea.

Slipping off her dressing gown and removing her watch, she called down to her husband. She could hear him in the kitchen, swearing at the cats. When he heard her shout, he came up to see what she wanted. “Yeah?” He was in the bedroom, she was still in the bathroom. “Where are you, babe?” He was on the landing now and she was intrigued to find out if he could see her. She checked her reflection once more. Nothing. No dressing gown or watch either. “Stop messing about, will you! I’ve got to get going, don’t want to catch the traffic!” She involuntarily put her hands over her ears as his voice boomed almost straight into her left lobe. She held her breath and whispered, “Steve?” The effect was alarming, he pulled back, stumbled through the doorway. 
“For fuck sake Karen! That’s not funny…”
“Am I laughing?”
“Where, where are you?” He was looking right at her now.
“In front of you. Steve, I’m a bit, well, scared.” Her small voice quivered a bit. She fought back tears, reached out for the toilet roll. “Oh. My. God!” He watched as the toilet roll unravelled a little and a small piece tore itself off. “You’re really, I mean, I can see you!”
“Really?”
“Well, no, not you exactly. The loo roll is moving though. I can see it in your hand!” She brought it up to her nose and delicately blew. “Don’t cry Karen! Please. This is cool!”
“How, Steve, can this be cool? I’m invisible and I have an interview in one hour!”
“Well, yes, but think about the fun you can have? Seriously babe, you can go anywhere!” He stepped toward where he thought she must be, “You can go in early, watch all the other interviews before yours. You’ll finally get to know what the Director wants and then the promotion is in the bag! God, babe, it’s like a gift!”

*

Well, she did go in early. She did listen in on the interviews. But how was she supposed to attend her own? No one could see her, except herself. Feeling low and a bit put out by the whole invisible thing, she made her lonely way home. No one stopped her to ask for change. No one offered her a smile that would’ve cheered her up. She just ambled along. Home to where she could relax.

As she opened the door, she could hear Steve upstairs. He was fucking the neighbour again. She sighed and someone beside her sighed too. She looked round. 
“Hello,” she said. A ghostly figure, tall, sexless yet peaceful, raised it’s hand in greeting. 
“Is this because I said that I felt invisible?” It nodded.
“Hmm. Well, that won’t solve what I already knew in my heart.”
It shook its head. 
“Well, old friend, let’s do it!”

*

By the time she had reached the landing, outside her bedroom door, she was fully restored. Standing in the doorway, naked apart from the spectral dagger now clasped in her right hand, she whispered his name again, “Oh Steve…”






“101 Uses For…”


A Newspaper: head-scarf, toilet paper, shoe stretcher, a truncheon, wrapping paper, book cover, wallpaper, fire lighter, ball, papier mache.                                                             


A Drinking Glass: an instrument, pencil pot, vase, bug catcher, circle template, candle holder.
 
A Cork: art, heel on an old shoe, ear-rings, pendant, firewood, missile, toy. 


A Button: money, Tiddly-Winks, toy-car wheel, dolls house clock, diet plate.


An Old Ironing Board: sideboard, a bench to stand on, work bench, bobsleigh, sledge, surfboard, table, slide.
                                                                               


A Wastepaper Basket: helmet, small side table, pet bed, drum, step, stool, bucket.                                                                  






“Life is like…”




Life is like a candle, once lit, it burns brightly, struggles to stay alight and when it burns out, leaves a wisp of smoke to be remembered by.



Life is like a mobile phone. You start with the basic and then, as you grow, you pick and choose the apps you need. When it all goes to shit, you upgrade.

Life is like a washing machine. You spend it going round and round in the vain hope of staying clean and decent but really, it’s all down to the detergent you use; go round with shit, you’ll look shit.

Life is like a light bulb. The higher the wattage, the sooner it burns out. Go eco!






“Feelings I Would Rather Not Deal With”

The feeling that sanity is often drifting away from me, that you’ll never fully understand why I do things, my longing to take the initiative with you but feeling wholly inadequate to do so.
To feel someone else’s arms around me, hear someone else’s words in my ears. Just once.
The total, emotional loss that encompasses my life on a daily basis and can never be got back and the feeling that something awful may happen to somebody else whom I love madly.
The feeling of my own invisibility amongst my family as well as my friends will never be dealt with.
I feel the need to be reckless, to be seen, but the consequences will not allow me.
To write explicitly, honestly and throw caution to the wind!





“Ritual”

The dinner is in the oven, the cats are feasting on their dry food (leaving most of it on the floor) and the chickens, at the bottom of the garden, are still mooching around. 
As the light outside starts growing dim I watch keenly for signs of their retirement for the night, ready to rush out and shut them safely in the hen house.
Back in the living room, I turn on the lamps. It seems darker in here, almost begging me to close the curtains. They can wait. 
Clenching my hands by my sides I wander back into the kitchen, peer out of the window, squint a bit and see that the chickens have indeed retired for the night. 
Pulling on my Hunter wellies, I trudge down to the bottom of the garden, deftly drop the pop-hole door and say goodnight to the girls. I am rewarded with a collective coo and so head back to the warmth of the house. 
Wellies off, door closed, dinner ready and, finally, curtains drawn. 






©Lisa Lee 2012



Film Pitch

Spielberg once said, ‘If a person can tell me the idea in 25 words or less, it’s going to make a pretty good movie.’ (The pitch for Alien was ‘Jaws in space!’)

Well, see if you can match the film with my pitches…


  









1.  ‘Phoney’ socialite charms her way into the life of a hapless writer who discovers the true girl beneath but she fights to keep her hidden.

2.  Limp car dealer hires thugs to kidnap his wife to extort money from her father in a grim, bleak landscape. All goes wrong.

3.  City policeman transfers to a sleepy Somerset village obsessed with ‘Best Village’ award. Uncovers secrets and builds friendships with much hilarity.

4.  Banker wrongly accused of murder ends up in prison where he improves the lives of the inmates before executing a heroic escape.

5.  King of Hallowe’en gets bored and decides to try his hand at Christmas.

6.  Five unlikely students find themselves spending a Saturday morning together in school where they form an unlikely alliance.


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