NON FICTION: Just Leave Me The Hell Alone

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Photo: Joan Sorolla

So I woke up one day with this ache that ran from my neck to my hand. The pain was a solid six (on a scale of ten), and it was constant enough to interfere with my day-to-day.

Googling wasn’t the best of ideas, since the symptoms matched that of a heart attack. Two doctor appointments and one Chinese masseuse (not a sitcom) later, I’m still perplexed as to what it was.

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NON FICTION: I Really Should Insert A Title, But Then You Wouldn’t Read It

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I remember harbouring a dream of writing for a magazine. In fact, I remember the exact article that prompted me to sign up for a Writer’s Bureau course. It was an FHM Magazine article, and it introduced me to the world of creative non-fiction, much like the stuff I publish on my blog.

It was then that I’d realise how words could be manipulated to evoke emotion. I starkly remember the sentence ‘One hour later and the airport lights were a thing of the past.’ The turn of phrase blew my mind, and since that day, I begun to aspire to the ways of wordsmithery.

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FLASH FICTION: Undead’s Dilemma

“Just do it already.” Julia bared her neck, hair to one side.

“S-so do I just b-bite the jugular? Or?”

Jesus Christ. Even now he’s second guessing himself .

“I don’t know,” she snapped. “What is it you guys usually do?”

“I’ve never done it before all right?”

“Well there aren’t any blood banks here, so I suggest you get to learning. And keep your voice down. Bad enough you roused a pack of carvers. Now you’re gonna get us killed because you can’t handle a little blood.”

It was so dark that Julia might as well have been talking to herself, but she knew that Elu could see the scorn in her eyes. Go on pussyfooting like this and you’ll lose your that night vision in a jiffy.

“B-but what if you turn?”

“Look, Elu.” Julia didn’t know if it was the anger or fear having her speak through gritted teeth. “You don’t do this, you die. You die, I die. Turning stopped being an issue the moment you decided to wander into uncharted rooms. Now are you gonna do it or what?”

“O-okay. Right then. Yes. This might hurt.”

“For fuck’s sake.”

But it did hurt, the exact same way it would if someone stuck a blunt snail-fork in your neck. Julia might’ve whimpered as Elu drew blood… she couldn’t remember. Why is it that when you black out in the dark, the world starts getting brighter?

Despite losing grip on reality, Julia heard the unmistakable wails of the carvers. It was them all right, hungry for blood in a way that Elu will never be. Get strong, she thought. Get us out of here. As she toed the borders of consciousness, Julia summoned the energy for one last whisper: “Whatever you do… don’t look them in the eye.”

NON FICTION: Wrestling With Procrastination

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A wrestler getting some reps in with a sixty kilo bag before clocking in as a bus driver

“Don’t tell me what you value, show me your budget, and I’ll tell you what you value.”

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It’s easy to procrastinate your life away. I mean, look at my last post date. It’s been months since my last update.

Or you could take a look at how I spent the past weekend: I slept in, had a late lunch, decided I wanted to spend the day writing, did some chores, played some games, watched TV, realised I’ve pissed away hours of said writing time, drank some vodka, blitzed a few online chess games, had dinner, drank more vodka, and before I knew it, the sun has set, and I’ve wasted another day.

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