Writing Exercise (first draft)

This is an exercise set by Matthew Naqvi, our Wordsmiths of Melton tutor for 2015. I haven’t give it the amount of respect I should and this is very much a first draft.

·         The exercise:

o   Show Not Tell - A Disability

Pick a disability; it can be a physical or mental illness, a wheelchair condition, or simply a common cold.

In five hundred words or less, through the art of writing, without telling us what it is, show your reader the disability. Use dialogue and inner thoughts to help.

The Dog’s Tail                                                 

God, he’s just pursed his lips and whistled; I hate it when he does that. Means I’ve got to look pleased; he wants to get his paper and read about his glorious football team. If I stay low he mightn’t find me, yeah that’s the go, I’ll pretend I’m deaf. It seems to work for him.

Damn, here he is. I could pretend I’m dead but that would just make him tickle me and I can’t stand being tickled, not the way he does it anyway. Yep, he has that damn harness; I’d better make it look like I’m excited.

Agh, the neighbour’s cat is sitting on the roof of our car, one back leg in the air and licking its butt. You’re a smug little pussy with a little pink tongue dragging cat spit over your coat, how gross. Jump down here, Furball, you can meet your ancestors, my treat.

Bloody cat thinks it is so superior and just because it can leave the yard whenever it wants. You’re no different to me pal. The vet has your nuts in a jar on the shelf too, right alongside mine, but mine are bigger. At least they were.

Steady on fella, you’re making that harness tight, what do you want to do cut off my circulation?

Okay I’d better pretend I’m keen to do this. A bit of tail wag after a stretch, a few pants and a couple of circles to show I’m excited and listen to him wheeze up to get the paper.

I stop to sniff the geraniums; Saliba’s mongrel has stopped to pee over my scent. I feel the lead tug and tug again. I don’t care about the bloody paper. I have to piss on this until I’m happy I’ve washed that mongrel’s scent away.

Jeeze, ease up. He is dragging me and I feel the arthritis in my old bones begin to ache. The cat is tripping along the top of O’Riley’s fence now, it leans out and Rob strokes its back. Bloody cat will just sit on the gate post and wait until we get back.

I see a dog coming and feel the lead strain, I just want to sniff butt and let her sniff mine. Humans have no idea how much you can find out about each other with a little bit of butt sniff. They think they are so clever and yet they haven’t worked this one out yet.

The harness snaps and it lifts me off the ground. Steady on, I’m coming. Bugger, now we are tangled, but it feels good to be close to another canine.

‘Sniff, sniff.’

We unwind and are away. The oxygen bottle makes his trolley rattle and the plastic tube connecting the gas to his nose sways, while his newspaper heroes wait.

Rob’s steps are shorter now, a shuffle and his breathing is faster too. His foot catches a raised chunk of pavement and he stumbles. The noise of the crash and all of the dust startle me. I pull, pull away but his grip doesn’t fail. Cripes who cares if Collingwood won or lost? I don’t want him to cark it, my mind wanders, if he did, I wonder if the players wear armbands for him?

A crowd mills around us, then lights flash. People with a stretcher and that open door slams behind him.

I feel my lead loose and Rob is gone. Who will feed me?