Writing and Dyslexia

My dyslexia doesn’t make writing easy but it has helped my imagination to develop. As a child I struggled with reading and writing. So, books weren’t something I would naturally want to pick up. But, picture books were a different matter and I loved them. The pictures allowed me to make my own stories up and now I think the dyslexia is a bonus.

I don’t think my brain is lazy but I do think it’s obstinate. It doesn’t see the point of read and writing So, writing helps to challenge the way my brain works and reminds it what it needs to do.

But, I’m always go to have problems and it’s better for me to accept this. I can laugh about my mistake and not feel embarrassed by them. But, what isn’t funny is someone trying to hid their literary problem from everyone. They feel ashamed of it and this is a pity because it stops them from getting help to improve their reading and writing skills. I found out I was dyslexic when I was at college and was told this doesn’t mean I’m stupid. After all, Albert Einstein was dyslexic and I wouldn’t call him stupid.

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Sometimes I like to have Fun Writing

It’s important to me to enjoy writing and my creations aren’t great pieces of literature they are just a bit of fun.

True love!

The moon watched on as the dish ran away with the spoon and he thought to himself it will never last. He remember when a kitchen chair fell for a bookcase’s with a shady past. The kitchen chair’s heart broke when she found him with another, under some old dirty dust cover. She left in haste thinking he could never be replaced. But, she didn’t wait long when she fell for some huck from the stage. He had a lovely veneer which she rub through year but he was a Chippendale table!

Our Friend

Our Friend

The hero of my story isn’t young, or good-looking and he doesn’t even have a name. I can tell you he lives on the streets and we’ll call him Our friend. I know your not supposed to talk in your own stories but I’m here for our friend so I’m going to stay. Our Friend has a scruffy four legged companion, he’s known to everyone by the name of Scraps. He is important to this story but sadly he has nothing to say. You may think after hearing this story Scraps is responsible for what happens on this day. But I’m not going to speculate about what could have make a dog act in this way.
The sun is going to join us and she going to start our day. So, we will find Our friend, on this beautiful summers day, sitting on a bench outside the entrance to the city park. Scraps has made Our friend come here every day since they became friends. Our Friend is now scratching his head and he’s puzzled by Scraps’s daily ritual
“I don’t understand this Scraps,” said Our Friend, “Why, do you want to come here every day?” Scraps ears went up when he heard his name but there was no other response from him.
“You’re a very loyal friend, Scraps, But why? Are you waiting for someone? Your true owner?”
Every time Scraps saw a man in a dark suit he would become excited. Once they got closer Scraps would calm down from his excitement. Our Friend was convinced Scraps was waiting for his owner and they must have a dark suit. It was the only reason he could think why his new companion brought him here every day. Their first month together Our Friend would have been happy for Scraps to go back to his owner. But, after six months it was a different matter and now he didn’t want to lose his only friend.
Today Scraps started to become excited again when he saw a dark suited man approaching. But, this time Scraps stood up and started barking. The man was almost at the bench and Scraps went to greet him. Our Friend’s heart sank it was obvious to him Scraps knew this man. The man knelt down to make a fuss of Scraps.
Our Friend got up from the bench and watch as the two enjoyed each other’s company. The man looked up at Our Friend and he waiting for this stranger to speak.
“You’ve got a lovely dog there,” said the man, “I used to have a dog just like this.”
“This could be your dog?” knowing he was about to lose his friend he was finding it difficult to keep his emotions under control.
“I know it’s, it’s wrong for me to….” Our Friend didn’t want to say anymore
“No! I wish it were true but my dog is no longer a live!”
“But! He seem to know you!”
“Yes, he does, doesn’t he.”
Our Friend was sure this man knew Scraps who was now by his side but the man had said he’s dog was dead. He looked down at his friend and then back to the man.
The man had a bag which he had placed on the floor when he had knelt down. He picked it up and tried to pass it to Our Friend. He didn’t put his hand out to take it and was a little bit confused why this man was trying to give his bag to him.
“It’s your,” said the man.
“That’s not mine!” said our Friend wondering what this man was up to.
“It’s definitely your!” and he opened up the bag. It was full of money but I can’t say what the notes were that’s up to you and your generosity.
“That’s not mine!” said Our Friend pointing at the bag, “Where did you get that from?”
“It’s not stolen money if that’s what your thinking!”
“Who’s money is it then?”
“It’s my money and I’m giving it to you.” said the man.
“You can’t give me your money! Why, would you do that?” said Our Friend.
“Maybe it’s because of your dog?” said the man, “I can give it to you and I will!” the man put the bag on the floor and he walked away.
But, he stopped and shouted as he turned to face Our Friend, “Don’t worry, my friend there’s plenty more where that came from,”
The man went on his way not looking back again and Our Friend watched this man until he had gone out of view. Our Friend was unsure about what had just happened and was it real? But, the bag was there and he picked it up. It was heavy and he placed it on the bench. He sat for a while before opening it. He touched the money and then shut the bag quickly.
He smiled and patted Scraps’ head, “What should we do first?” Scraps wagged his tail in response, “Yes, I agree,” said Our Friend.
They made their way down the higher street and stopped at a restaurant. It’s a place Our Friend had passed many times before and had seen their cooked breakfasts. They were the best in the city and he was going to have one. But, he knew they wouldn’t let him in. So, he took an outside table and he didn’t have to wait long for a waiter to come out.
The male waiter hurried over to him, “You can’t sit there!” and he looked at Our Friend with disgust.
“But, I want a cooked breakfast,”
“We don’t do free food!”
“I have money,” said Our Friend opening the bag to get a note out and could see the waiter was shocked.
“It’s my money, it’s not stolen,” said Our Friend who wasn’t happy at what this stuck up waiter was thinking.
“You can have a cooked breakfast as long as you stay out here,” said the waiter.
Our Friend didn’t acknowledge what the waiter had said and place his order for the full English and a pot of tea. The waiter walked back to the main entrance door but Our Friend called the waiter back.
“A plate of sausages as well,’ said Our Friend.
“What?”
“A plate of sausage for my companion,” and he smiled at Scraps who was wagging his tail even fast than before.
The waiters didn’t reply but left them to wait for their breakfast. Once it arrived, Our Friend got stuck into his breakfast because his stomach was moaning. He happily scrapped the plate clean with his knife and licked it. Scraps was also content with his plate of sausages and he was licking the plate clean.
They left once the bill was paid and headed in the direction of the train station. All I know is Our Friend didn’t come back to this city but he did want to live by the sea.

Good and Bad News About ME!

When I got to four followers on this site I thought WOW! But, it quickly became a disappointing OH when I realised I was following myself. I’ve removed myself which means I’ve lost 25% of my followers.

But, it’s not all bad news, I’m having singing lessons to help strengthen the muscles in my throat because of a medical condition. I can’t sing but I do like singing. The lessons have improve my voice and I no longer sound like I’m killing a cat but kicking it

Why am I Here?

Why am I here? It’s a good question for someone whose never considered blogging before. I’m not technically minded and this is going to be an experience for me and especially for anyone who comes into contact with me. So, you’ve been warned and if you do decide to follow me I’m very grateful and puzzled. I’m not here by chance but because a friend recommend this site to share my work. She saw my writing on Facebook and thought I should share my world with people who don’t know me.

I enjoy writing and I find it therapeutic to switch off to the world around me. But, I will let the world plant the seed in my mind and my imagination will then nurture it. Hopefully it will grow into a worthwhile story. If it doesn’t form to my liking I put it aside and forget about it for a while. I find it better to move onto something else until it changes it’s course in my mind. So, I never delete anything I’ve written even if I think it’s rubbish. So, nothing we write is bad it’s just not developed the way we want.

The House

The police car Sean was driving turned left into a drive leading to a derelict house. He came to a stop and could see no signs of any intruders. There had been five arson attacks on empty properties in the area in the last month and he had to investigate the report of a possible break-in.
Sean paused before getting out of the car and stared at the derelict building. It was a old Tudor manor house and as far he could remember it had been unoccupied for decades. The stories about it were centuries old, they were just folklore and Sean dismissed them. He wasn’t superstition, he didn’t believe in God so why would he believe in ghost stories and devil worshipping.
He took a torch from the back of the car and walked towards the house, he stopped abruptly a few feet from the door. It was now open, when his headlight shone on it was definitely closed.
“Don’t get scared now!” he said aloud.
He pushed the door opened and went into the main entrance hall. The lack of light inside wasn’t the only thing that made it dark, the torch shone on the dark wooden panels which covered the walls and the stair case was the same colour.
He saw a passageway and walked in that direction. Sean used to laugh at the stories of people he knew refusing to go through the main entrance door on their own! Even though he felt uneasy he told himself not to be influenced by other people’s silly imaginations.
A groan descended the stairs, an unnatural sound.
Sean stopped, “Hello!”
There was only silence as a reply. He moved the torch light up the stairs, he could see nothing there.
He delayed before walking back towards the stairs. Everyone at the station would laugh at him if they knew he was hesitating.
His weight on the first step made the wood creak, “What a cliché” he laughed, remembered horror films, where creaky floorboards were a warning to stop!
But, he continued to climb the stairs and he wasn’t going to let his fear stop him! His torchlight gave life to the shadows and he watched as they performed a ritual dance against the dark wood staircase.
When he reached the last few steps the torch failed. The darkness enveloped him and he could feel its presence all around him. He made his last unsure steps to the top of the stairs.
There he could see a corridor to his left and a window at the end. But, the moonlight would only dare come so far in and it was out of reach to give him any comfort. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could see the same dark wooden panels as the one downstairs. They continued down another corridor on right and at the end there was a faint light coming from a partially opened door. The rational policeman inside him told him to investigate but he didn’t want to! Now, he felt fear slowly creeping through his body! Not wanting to stay but unable to flee, Sean froze where he stood! It wasn’t his fear holding him there, it was something else controlling him! Moving down the corridor, Sean tried to regain his senses.
The light coming from the room was telling him something was wrong! But, he didn’t believe in paranormal, did he?
There was movement in the room, a shadow broke the light in the doorway!
“Hello!” Sean called.
But there was no reply!
When Sean reach the door he pushed it so it would opened wider. He went in and the door closed behind him. A noise filled the air wasn’t human and it was followed by deathly silence!